Scone Cold Dead Read Online Free Page B

still putting out fresh supplies, even though the crowd was starting to thin. Sherri grabbed one of the cocktail scones Liss was so proud of and the man did, too.
    â€œThese aren’t bad,” he said. “I tried a few of them earlier. They have some kind of honey filling.”
    Sherri bit into hers. Not honey. Not even sweet. She had to force herself to swallow and she quickly discarded what was left of the pastry by chucking it into a convenient trash container. The man didn’t seem to be put off by the taste. Or perhaps his scone had a different filling. It disappeared in two bites and he reached for another.
    She remembered now that he’d been right here at the refreshment table when Liss had identified him. And later, when Liss had been talking to him, he’d had a blond dancer at his side. The blonde was nowhere in sight now.
    â€œSo, sweet thing—what’s your name?”
    Sherri moved another yard or so away from him. She didn’t look his way again, and when there were no heavy footsteps following her she breathed a sigh of relief. Then a burst of song from the other side of the room distracted her. The attempt to render Bobby Burns’s lyrics in a Scots accent ended in peals of laughter, equally loud. An odd coughing sound was almost drowned out by the noise of the revelers.
    Sherri frowned. The overweight Lothario, gearing up for another try? She told herself not to turn around. She shouldn’t even glance over her shoulder at him. Either action would only encourage unwelcome advances. But there was something odd about that cough, and the wheeze that followed it. The hair on the nape of her neck lifted when she heard a strangled, gagging sound.
    Sherri looked back, expecting to find him choking on one of the hors d’oeuvres. She was prepared to administer the Heimlich maneuver.
    Victor’s face was red, his mouth open and gasping, his eyes bulging. He was scrabbling futilely at his jacket pocket.
    Shit , Sherri thought. Heart attack.
    No one else had noticed yet. They were all too busy enjoying themselves. Even as she reached toward him, he collapsed. Sherri knelt at his side, pulling her cell phone from her purse and hitting the button to speed-dial the dispatch center at the jail. At this time of night, the sheriff’s department handled emergency calls for the entire county.
    Sherri almost lost her grip on the phone as Victor thrashed about on the floor. His flailing hand struck her elbow with painful force. “Donna, this is Sherri,” she barked at the deputy who answered. “Send an ambulance to the Student Center ASAP. Possible heart attack.”
    Victor was still gasping and choking when the blonde who’d been with him earlier reappeared. “Oh my God!” she shrieked. “What happened?”
    â€œHas he got a heart condition?” Sherri asked. In the mere seconds it took to ask the question, Victor stopped breathing.
    Sherri tossed her phone to the blonde, hoping she’d have sense enough to keep the line open, and started CPR. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Pete making a beeline for her and sent up a silent prayer of thanks.
    â€œHe’s got food allergies,” the blonde wailed.
    Damn . Realizing that he’d probably been trying to get at an EpiPen, Sherri let Pete take over CPR and shoved her hand into Victor’s nearest pocket. She came up empty. She tried the others in rapid succession, but none yielded an epinephrine injector.
    This is not good , Sherri thought. If he was severely allergic, he needed a shot, fast, to counteract food-induced anaphylaxis.
    Pete continued CPR until the ambulance arrived, but with shocking suddenness Victor moved beyond their ability to save him. When they both stood aside to let the paramedic and the EMT take over, Sherri already knew that whatever Victor had been allergic to had just killed him.
    â€œIf only I’d paid more attention,” she murmured. “If