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Panting, she thumbed 911 into her phone. “Send thepolice. I’m heading toward the Art Garden on campus. I have reason to believe someone is in danger.”
“How do you know this, ma’am?”
“Somebody texted me a threat. The cops are already here on campus. Send a few to the Art Garden.”
“Someone texted you?”
“Oh, for God’s sake. I see someone in the Art Garden with a gun. Send the police.”
Gripping her phone in one hand, Jessica pulled her weapon from her purse with the other. She hadn’t been lying to the 911 operator. There was going to be someone in the Art Garden with a gun in a few seconds.
She made it to the path that wound its way through shrubbery and flower beds, a sculpture positioned every few feet. The fountain gurgled in the middle of all this beauty and art, and Jessica made a beeline toward it, holding her gun in front of her.
“Where are you? The police are on the way.”
She rushed toward the fountain and almost tripped over a body on the ground at the edge. She cried out, “Not again. Not again.”
As she collapsed next to the still form, her gun hanging at her side, someone barreled into her back, driving her over the edge of the fountain. A gloved hand gripped the back of her neck and shoved her head into the water.
She tried to roll to her side, twist her head, but her attacker had his weight against her hips and his hand in her hair, keeping her head submerged. She couldn’t move…and she couldn’t breathe.
Chapter Thirteen
As he bent his head toward Mr. Flemming, Finn felt his phone buzz in his pocket with a text message. When Mr. Flemming turned to his wife, Finn glanced up at the unruly mob. He understood the students’ frustration, but this was not the time or place to vent those frustrations.
His gaze scanned the crowd, trying to pick out Jessica’s blond hair. He caught sight of her on the edge of the pressing throng of people, moving away from the quad.
He patted his pocket and pulled out his phone. He had a missed phone call he hadn’t even heard due to the shouts and chants. The text message was from Jessica, a forwarded text message.
He squinted at the display as if that could help him make sense of the cryptic message.Art Garden. Fountain. Too late.
Understanding slammed into his chest so hard, he gasped. He jerked his head up, zeroing in on where he’d last seen Jessica. She’d disappeared.
Adrenaline flooded his body and his limbs jerked. He touched Mr. Flemming’s arm. “Excuse me.”
Finn ducked back from the grouping on the stage and cranked his head back and forth, looking for a cop otherthan Detective Morse—who was trying to field questions from a horde of angry and agitated people. The majority of the deputies were among the crowd, some at the front of the stage to make sure the irate mourners didn’t overrun it.
He’d have to go it alone. He jumped from the stage, grateful he’d swapped his loafers for a pair of running shoes. Maybe he’d had a feeling he’d need to run. So he did.
Finn took off, skirting the perimeter of the crowd, in the direction of the Art Garden. He dashed across the smaller quad behind Waverly Hall and took the walkway toward the art building, Callahan Hall.
As soon as he stepped foot in the Art Garden, he started calling Jessica’s name. More than anything, he just wanted her to stop. To turn around and wait for him. Was he too late as the text message had taunted?
He broke onto the pebbled surface that surrounded the fountain and his stomach dropped when he spotted two bodies next to the fountain.
As he ran toward them, a figure appeared behind him, and he swung around, his fist bunched.
“Whoa.” A deputy in uniform held up his hands. “Do you have the gun?”
Finn ignored his question. “There are two injured women here.”
When Finn dropped to his knees, his worst fear was realized. Jessica was slumped over the fountain, her hair wet and matted to her face. He turned her on her back, and his heart lurched at the sight of her pale face, a bluish tint around her mouth.
Her breath was faint but present, so he hauled her up and wrapped his arms around her to give her the Heimlich. One jerk and water gushed from her mouth. She chokedand coughed up more water, but she’d opened her eyes and moved on her own.
The deputy wasn’t having the same kind of luck with the other woman. Even in the low lights, Finn could see the red mark around the woman’s neck. Unlike Jessica, that woman had been strangled.
Two more deputies ran onto the scene, all of them chattering about a gun.