Free Bowled Over by Victoria Hamilton Page B

or maybe
past
the washroom. Jaymie frowned. Was Kylie sick, vomiting behind the building, maybe? Itwouldn’t be the first time someone overindulged at a picnic or consumed a bad batch of mayonnaise-laden potato salad or had a touch of sunstroke.
    “You stay right here, you understand?” Jaymie said. Connor nodded and sucked on his fist some more.
    Jaymie, wishing she had brought a flashlight, poked her head around the back of the washroom, where it faced the river. There was a dark hump on the ground. “Kylie, are you okay?” She went over and tried to figure out what was where. “Kylie?” she said, putting her hand on the woman’s shoulder. She wasn’t breathing. “Damn, damn,
damn
!” Jaymie shrieked. She darted back around the washrooms, where Connor still stood.
    A woman was approaching, heading to the washroom as well, and Jaymie called out to her, “Help me, please!”
    “What’s wrong?” the other woman said. “Are you okay?” She shone a light in Jaymie’s eyes, blinding her momentarily. “What’s up?” She shone the light down to the ground.
    Jaymie recognized her; she was the African-American policewoman who had patrolled the Leighton’s back alley during the trouble in May. “Officer Jenkins! I know you…remember me?”
    The officer was blessedly calm and quick to respond. “I do,” the young woman said, regarding her solemnly, her glance darting over to Connor. “You look awful, like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s wrong?”
    “This fellow’s mom is…is sick…or something worse…behind the washroom. I don’t know what to do!”
    Becca approached. Jaymie pushed the boy toward her older sister and said, “Can you look after Connor? Kylie is sick. Or…something.” She gave her sister a meaningful look, and then led the policewoman behind the washroom. Officer Jenkins already had her cell phone out, and as sheshone her flashlight over the form, she was dialing a number quickly.
    The light played over the woman on the ground as the officer rapidly spoke to someone on the other end of her call. One look was all it took, and Jaymie knew; this was not Kylie, and she was not merely ill. Kneeling in the soft, moist dirt, Jaymie gasped, “Kathy! It’s Kathy Cooper!” She sobbed, covering her mouth with one shaking hand.
    Kathy’s eyes were open and staring, but blood coated her face and soaked the pale T-shirt she had on. Her arms were flung out, one fist tightly closed on some grayish hair or wool, or something like that. As the flashlight flickered, it sparkled off something shiny next to Kathy’s bloody head; a broken glass bowl, one that Jaymie recognized, lay in the damp grass. It was Jaymie’s square-based Depression glass bowl, broken into two glittering chunks.

Five
    “K ATHY ,
K ATHY !”
S HE couldn’t believe it,
wouldn’t
believe it. Kathy had to be just dazed. Jaymie grabbed her shoulders and tried to lift her up. The metallic odor of blood mingled with the sour smell of old mayonnaise from the glass bowl, and she felt lightheaded. “Kathy, say something,” she sobbed.
    “Stop it!” the off-duty policewoman said. “Step away from her,
now
!” She spoke rapidly into the cell phone again, while she shoved her flashlight into her shorts pocket, then grabbed Jaymie’s T-shirt sleeve.
    Jaymie staggered to her feet, shivering uncontrollably, as the policewoman pulled her away from the scene.
    Officer Jenkins snapped her cell phone shut and took Jaymie by the shoulders. “There’s nothing you can do for her now,” she said, shaking Jaymie slightly. “She’s gone. You need to wait right here until the team arrives.”
    A sob caught in Jaymie’s throat. It couldn’t be what it looked like, it just couldn’t! She stumbled over to Becca, who stood several feet away.
    “What the heck is going on?” Becca muttered, holding Connor to her leg with one hand. “Where’s Kylie? And Kathy?”
    Kevin and Daniel walked toward them, a look of deep concern on Daniel’s