““We got your call for assistance, Chief Ferris,” said a young deputy sheriff as he jumped from his car and ran towards Lew. “Appreciate it. Not sure what we got here yet,” Osborne heard her say as he opened his car door and reached into the back seat for the medical bag that he was now happy he’d forgotten to drop off at his house earlier. Lit by the headlights from four vehicles plus the back porch lights of neighbors on both sides, the parking lot for Mildred’s Food Shop and the old barn stoo...d in relief against the November night. As he hurried to catch up with Lew, Osborne noticed that the wire cage in front of the barn looked different from earlier that day — now the door was wide open but the interior still empty. Off to the left and close to the house lay Mildred Taggert: her body in its black tunic and loose black slacks sprawled sideways on the asphalt, her face a sliver of white. An EMT, crouched over the body, looked up as Osborne and Lew approached. He shook his head as he said, “No pulse, Dr.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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