sheriff’s room?”
“That’s right,” Brad confirmed as he pushed open the door of the room where the patient lay unmoving, his chest no longer rising and falling, his pallor weak, his eyes closed.
Oh, no.
His heart monitor was visible from the doorway and the green line moving across the screen remained level, not so much as bumping the slightest as a piercing sound that should have been softly beeping was a steady, ominous warning.
Brad moved to the patient’s side and started compressions on his chest as Reba found the bag valve mask to force air into the patient’s lungs.
“Make sure the doc knows that we’ve got a second cardiac arrest. We need a defib cart ASAP!” Brad was still working over his patient as he barked at Amy.
“The cart’s in Mr. Donnerly’s room—”
“Order another one.”
“There’s only one on the floor.”
“Then get one from another floor. STAT!” he ordered as he worked over the patient who, so far, wasn’t responding. His heart monitor showed a flat green line, its high-pitched whine piercing. “For Christ’s sake, move it!”
Amy was already turning into the hallway to get more help, but her own heart was pounding double-time at the thought of losing this patient, who just happened to be the sheriff of Pinewood County.
Chapter 5
H earing the sound of another vehicle approaching, Pescoli looked up and squinted through the curtain of falling snow. She and Alvarez were about to leave the O’Halleran ranch as they’d already taken statements and looked around as much as they could in the frigid conditions. The victim’s body had been taken to the morgue, the emergency workers had left, and the O’Hallerans had returned to their house. A guard was still posted near the front gate and the crime scene team was still finishing up gathering trace evidence, but her work was done.
A Jeep emerged, twin headlights cutting through the gloom, big tires kicking up snow. The driver parked next to the crime scene van, cut the engine, and emerged swiftly. Blackwater.
“Just what we need,” Pescoli said under her breath. Half expecting to see the KMJC news van following in his wake, she glanced to the ruts cut into the snow where half a dozen or more vehicles had come and gone, mashing the snow beneath dozens of tires.
But Blackwater was alone, no entourage of reporters following.
A first. Well, that wasn’t really the truth, but she wasn’t in the best of moods after losing her breakfast and dealing with the bitter cold as, potentially, another nutcase of a killer was making his presence known in this part of the Bitterroots.
Blackwater’s expression was grim as he strode through the powder to her vehicle.
“We’re just about done here. Wrapping things up,” Pescoli told him.
“Good. I need to talk to the both of you. In person.” A muscle worked in his jaw.
“Something up?” Pescoli asked as Alvarez’s eyes narrowed a fraction.
He hesitated, glanced at the woods for a second, then forced his gaze back to the two detectives standing before him. “Bad news,” he said.
Pescoli felt her back muscles tighten. “What?”
Beside her, Alvarez drew a sharp breath as if she guessed what was coming.
“It’s the sheriff,” he said solemnly, the corners of his mouth twisting downward. “He didn’t make it.”
“What?” Pescoli exploded. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Oh, God.” Alvarez leaned hard against the front panel of Pescoli’s Jeep, her knees buckling. Her face had washed of all color and she was shaking her head. Even as she did, she made the sign of the cross over her chest.
“No!” Pescoli stared down Blackwater and fer vently shook her head. “Not Dan Grayson. There must be some mistake.”
“I wish there was.” Blackwater seemed sincere, holding back his own emotions. “Grayson’s heart stopped. A Code Blue was issued, and as I understand it, the team was there in seconds, trying to get
“That’s right,” Brad confirmed as he pushed open the door of the room where the patient lay unmoving, his chest no longer rising and falling, his pallor weak, his eyes closed.
Oh, no.
His heart monitor was visible from the doorway and the green line moving across the screen remained level, not so much as bumping the slightest as a piercing sound that should have been softly beeping was a steady, ominous warning.
Brad moved to the patient’s side and started compressions on his chest as Reba found the bag valve mask to force air into the patient’s lungs.
“Make sure the doc knows that we’ve got a second cardiac arrest. We need a defib cart ASAP!” Brad was still working over his patient as he barked at Amy.
“The cart’s in Mr. Donnerly’s room—”
“Order another one.”
“There’s only one on the floor.”
“Then get one from another floor. STAT!” he ordered as he worked over the patient who, so far, wasn’t responding. His heart monitor showed a flat green line, its high-pitched whine piercing. “For Christ’s sake, move it!”
Amy was already turning into the hallway to get more help, but her own heart was pounding double-time at the thought of losing this patient, who just happened to be the sheriff of Pinewood County.
Chapter 5
H earing the sound of another vehicle approaching, Pescoli looked up and squinted through the curtain of falling snow. She and Alvarez were about to leave the O’Halleran ranch as they’d already taken statements and looked around as much as they could in the frigid conditions. The victim’s body had been taken to the morgue, the emergency workers had left, and the O’Hallerans had returned to their house. A guard was still posted near the front gate and the crime scene team was still finishing up gathering trace evidence, but her work was done.
A Jeep emerged, twin headlights cutting through the gloom, big tires kicking up snow. The driver parked next to the crime scene van, cut the engine, and emerged swiftly. Blackwater.
“Just what we need,” Pescoli said under her breath. Half expecting to see the KMJC news van following in his wake, she glanced to the ruts cut into the snow where half a dozen or more vehicles had come and gone, mashing the snow beneath dozens of tires.
But Blackwater was alone, no entourage of reporters following.
A first. Well, that wasn’t really the truth, but she wasn’t in the best of moods after losing her breakfast and dealing with the bitter cold as, potentially, another nutcase of a killer was making his presence known in this part of the Bitterroots.
Blackwater’s expression was grim as he strode through the powder to her vehicle.
“We’re just about done here. Wrapping things up,” Pescoli told him.
“Good. I need to talk to the both of you. In person.” A muscle worked in his jaw.
“Something up?” Pescoli asked as Alvarez’s eyes narrowed a fraction.
He hesitated, glanced at the woods for a second, then forced his gaze back to the two detectives standing before him. “Bad news,” he said.
Pescoli felt her back muscles tighten. “What?”
Beside her, Alvarez drew a sharp breath as if she guessed what was coming.
“It’s the sheriff,” he said solemnly, the corners of his mouth twisting downward. “He didn’t make it.”
“What?” Pescoli exploded. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Oh, God.” Alvarez leaned hard against the front panel of Pescoli’s Jeep, her knees buckling. Her face had washed of all color and she was shaking her head. Even as she did, she made the sign of the cross over her chest.
“No!” Pescoli stared down Blackwater and fer vently shook her head. “Not Dan Grayson. There must be some mistake.”
“I wish there was.” Blackwater seemed sincere, holding back his own emotions. “Grayson’s heart stopped. A Code Blue was issued, and as I understand it, the team was there in seconds, trying to get
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