Daisies for Innocence Read Online Free PDF Page B

which struck me as odd since my hand was shaking so badly I couldn’t seem to grip a single lock of hair. When I touched it, the faint smell of cheap aftershave, mingled with garlic and green-apple conditioner, rose into the air.
    Finally, my trembling fingers managed to reveal her face.
    Josie’s eyes were closed. She looked peaceful, as if she’d merely fallen asleep. Asleep—except she didn’t seem to be breathing. I moved my hand to her shoulder and gave a little shake. Her skin felt cold beneath my palm. Clammy, even in the dry warm air.
    Dash looked at me with worried eyes and nosed Josie’s other cowboy boot.
    Slowly, almost against my will, I placed my fingertips on her neck like I’d seen people do so many times on television. There was no pulse. But what if I wasn’t doing it right?
    It didn’t matter. I knew she was dead. Blackness encroached on my peripheral vision, and my head swam.
    Breathe.
    I forced oxygen into my lungs with a big whooping inhalation, and the darkness receded a fraction. It took a few more deep breaths before I felt able to stand. Pushing myself to my feet, I turned and stumbled back to where I’d left my door hanging open in my half-asleep scentual daze only minutes earlier.
    My cell phone was charging on the kitchen counter. Iwaited through three rings before the 911 operator picked up.
    “I found a woman collapsed out front,” I panted. “I think . . . I think she might be dead.” I took another wavering breath. “Please send help.” The last sentence came out an octave higher.
    There was a moment of shocked silence on the other end of the line before the dispatcher slipped into professional gear. “Are you all right, ma’am?”
    “Yes,” I said, impatient now. “I’m fine. But she’s not breathing. At least I don’t think so.”
    “What’s the address?” she asked. I heard rapid typing in the background.
    “Oh. Right.” I reeled off my address. “It’s Scents and Nonsense, at the end of Corona.”
    The typing stopped. “
Ellie?
Is that you?”
    “Who’s this?”
    “It’s Nan Walton.”
    I pictured the big-boned woman who always ordered the prime rib when she came into the Roux Grill. She knew the bartenders there quite well. “Nan, it’s Josie Overland out front.”
    “Holy . . . okay, help is on the way,” she said, typing again at a furious pace.
    That was all I needed to know. I ended the call, grabbed my keys and phone, and ran back to Josie. Checked her pulse again, in case I’d missed something the first time.
    Please let me be wrong.
    But I wasn’t. If anything, her skin felt even colder.Looking up, I saw how hard it would be for anyone on the street to see her. I swallowed down the lump forming in my throat.
    I propped the gate all the way open with a rock and hurried to the back door of the shop. Unlocking the slider, Dash and I went through to the boardwalk and walked a few doors down to watch for the ambulance. Most shops wouldn’t open until nine or ten, but old Mr. Freti was sweeping in front of the hardware store down the street. A few people turned their heads as they drove by, and as I leaned against a vertical support for the covered boardwalk, a jogger pounded by me. He gave me a friendly nod, then did a double take before veering around the corner. At first, I thought he’d seen Josie tucked into the shadows, but, glancing down, I saw my feet were not only bare but now quite dirty. Also, I still wore my purple cotton pajamas.
    Which were covered with pink dancing poodles. I’d bought them on clearance in the girl’s department at Target.
    Great.
    The time on the huge round clock mounted above the library down the street showed eight thirty-eight. I had certainly slept longer than usual. My mind raced as I watched the minute hand tick by one, two, three minutes.
    How long had Josie been there? Had she come straight from work? Her shift would have ended around midnight. Had she been trying to get help?
    What had happened