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learned ages ago. She checked for a carotid pulse. Nothing. Jessie lifted Sherry’s jaw, pressed her lips to Sherry’s mouth, and forced two puffs of air into her lungs. Shifted her position and started chest compressions.

“Hello?” came a voice outside the door.

“In here!” Jessie called.

She couldn’t remember ever being as happy to see anyone as she was to see those men with the paramedic emblems on their shirts charging toward her.

Twenty-Three

Jessie felt as if gallons of the fetid water had gotten trapped inside her head, behind her eyes, and in her sinuses, creating pressure on her brain. Someone draped an old horse blanket reeking of stale sweat around her shoulders. She watched as the paramedics administered CPR and pasted leads for a portable EKG unit to Sherry’s torso. Jessie was too far away to hear their whispered comments, but from their glum expressions, she surmised they didn’t have much to work with.

They found a bloody gash on Sherry’s head. Jessie hadn’t noticed it before, too busy trying to get both of them out of that damned pool.

She wasn’t sure when Daniel showed up, only knew he was at her side.

Two uniformed police officers entered from the passageway. State Trooper Larry Popovich trailed behind them. The same crew as the night Doc died.

Someone shoved a Styrofoam cup of coffee in her hands. She looked up into Greg’s face. She tipped her head toward the other cops and the paramedics. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

Greg’s expression lacked humor. “What the hell happened, Jess?”

With one hand, she clutched the rank horse blanket around her. She extended the one holding the coffee cup toward the pool and pointed. “I fell in.”

“I heard. You look like shit.”

She noticed his paint-splattered once-white t-shirt and faded blue jeans. His usually neat, short-cropped hair was uncombed. “So do you.” In truth, he reminded her entirely too much of the guy she’d fallen in love with all those years ago.

He snorted a short laugh. “I guess you’re all right.”

Popovich strolled toward them. For a man only slightly smaller than a mountain, he moved like a cat. He extended one massive paw toward Greg, who grasped it. Then the trooper turned to Jessie. “Twice in one month. That has to be some sort of record for this place.”

Jessie released the blanket to shake Popovich’s offered hand, and the blanket slid off her shoulders to the floor. She’d forgotten Daniel was there until he bent down to retrieve it. She considered telling him to leave it. The thing stunk. But she realized she was still shivering and allowed him to wrap her in it once again. His arm stayed protectively around her shoulders.

Trooper Popovich produced a pad and pen from his pockets. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

She wished the pressure inside of her head would ease up and allow her to think. “Sure.” Flanked by Greg and Daniel, she told the trooper about Sherry’s cryptic call requesting they meet.

“What did she want to talk to you about?”

Jessie resisted an urge to cast a sideways glance at Daniel. “I don’t know. She just said it was important.”

“Go on.”

“Ten minutes before she was supposed to come here, I got a text about an emergency in Zelda Peterson’s barn.” Jessie looked at Greg. “But no one there sent it. And when I checked the number the text came from, it was the same one that called Doc the night he died.”

Greg shot a glance at Popovich. The big trooper held out his palm. “Do you mind if I have a look at your phone?”

Jessie worked her hand into her wet jeans’ pocket. No phone. She fought the fog and the pressure to think. Where was it? She’d used it to call for help.

“Dr. Cameron?” the trooper prompted.

She glanced around and remembered the sickening splash. “I dropped it. It went in the pool.”

“Wonderful,” he muttered. “Okay, you were at Peterson’s barn. Then what happened?”

“I rushed back here. The lights were out, so at first, I thought she hadn’t shown up. But my note was gone—”

“What note?”

“I left her a note taped to the light switch before I went over to Barn E, telling her where I was and why.”

“Where is it now?”

“I don’t know. I told you. It was gone when I returned.”

He jotted something in his notebook. “Then what?”

“When I turned on the lights, I saw her floating in the pool. I called 911 and then tried to pull her out, but I fell in.”

“You fell? You didn’t dive in to get her?”

Jessie thought she detected a note of accusation in his voice. “I can’t swim.”

She expected him to ask her why not, but instead he asked, “Do you have any idea how the victim got that cut on her head?”

“No.” The pressure behind her forehead was becoming unbearable. “I didn’t know there was a cut until I heard the paramedics talking.”

“You didn’t know?” Popovich looked incredulous. “How could you not notice? It was a good size gash.”

Jessie liked the tone of his questions less and less. “I was busy.”

Popovich thumbed back through his notes. “I understand you and Ms. Malone have had a number of arguments in recent weeks.”

Daniel extended an arm toward the trooper. “Excuse me, sir, should Dr. Cameron have a lawyer present?”

Popovich looked surprised. Jessie was pretty sure he wasn’t. “Only if she feels she needs one.”

“Are you accusing her of something?”

Greg stepped between them. “Hold on now.” He turned to face his colleague. “Larry, just what are you getting at?”

He shrugged. “You know how it goes, Greg. I need to find out exactly what happened here this afternoon. A girl is dead. She was supposed to meet your wife. Your wife happens to be the one who found her.”

“And pulled her out of the water,” Jessie reminded him.

The trooper held up a hand. “Which definitely helps if you want to look innocent.”

I am innocent, she wanted to shout. Greg took Popovich by the arm and directed him away

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