P.S.I.--An "Emergency!" Story

Chapter 6--Cassie Lou Remembers

Home | Cast of Characters | Soundtrack | Chapter 1--"I Wanna Be With Her" | Chapter 2--As Mike Lay Dying | Chapter 3--The Three Clues | Chapter 4--A Bullet With Her Name On It | Chapter 5--"Beauty Doesn't Belong in the Ground!" | Chapter 6--Cassie Lou Remembers | Chapter 7--The Video, The Ad, and The Interview | Chapter 8 --The Perfect Wife for a Firefighter | Chapter 9--"Win It For Dixie!" | Chapter 10--Angel in Topboots | Chapter 11--"Don't Have a Stroke, Mike!" | Chapter 12--Waterloo | Chapter 13--Retail Murder | Chapter 14--The Mares | Chapter 15--Notes | Chapter 16--A Homecoming--Sort Of | Chapter 17--PSI Means What Again? | Epilogue | Author's Notes | Gemma's E! Vision in the Monastery | Guestbook

Monday afternoon, at Condor Ridge Farm--the closest farm to the track--the leading member of Sabrina's Posse confronted her advisor.

"I know jockey George Welles killed Sabrina," Cassie Lou declared.

"Cassie, that's outrageous!  How could you make such an accusation?" asked the advisor.

"Because he was crying the day he followed her onto this farm."

"What?"  Where was I when this happened?  Where was my husband?"

"You were gone that day.  Mr. Davidson was in the barn preparing for the lesson.  The other girls hadn't arrived yet."

"Go on."

"Sabrina drove up in her jade green corvette, and George Welles pulled up behind her in his car.  They both got out at the same time, and George was crying.  He caught up with her--she didn't look happy to see him--and he said, "Please reconsider!"  She said, "I told you, George, I'm not interested!"  He cried even harder and said, "But I love you!"  And she said, "If you love me, let go of me."

The advisor didn't like the sick feeling she was getting.  "Did anything happen after that?"

"He really got to bawling after that.  He handed her a letter; got back into his car; and drove off kinda crazy.  Sabrina leaned on her car and read the letter.  Her eyes got really wide, and she looked. . .not exactly scared, but surprised in a strange way, wadded it up, and opening her car door, threw it into the boot behind the seats."

"And then?"
"Sabrina smiled, walked over to me, put her arm around me, and said, 'Pardon the sore loser.  Let's go have some fun!'"
"That's it?"
Cassie Lou nodded.
The advisor was ambivalent, but she couldn't deny the nagging gut feeling.  She pulled out the phone book, and looking up the number for the sheriff's office, said, "We'll tell the sheriff, and they can do what they want with it."
"I still think George Welles did it."
"But how?"
"A hired gun.  The jocks can't sneak a gun like that onto the track."
"They manage to sneak buzzers sometimes."
"I just know it was a hitman, Mrs. Davidson.  I just know.  I can't say how I know.  I just know."
"No one has told you anything?"
"No.  I just feel it here," Cassie Lou said, pointing to her stomach.
"Gut feeling." 

The grief's as thick as peanut butter. . .