Murder, She Wrote: Prescription For Murder - Plot & Excerpts
Karl Westerkoch said, “Damn,” and pushed the door open a crack, allowing the sound of the pelting rain to reach inside. Ivelisse Vasquez stood motionless, her face blank. Seth wrenched open the door and ran out into the downpour. I followed. He knelt over Vasquez and placed his fingertips against his neck. “Get an ambulance,” he shouted to no one in particular. “Call nine-one-one!” With that, he straddled Vasquez and began administering CPR. I looked back in the hope that someone would bring an umbrella, but no one moved until Xavier appeared carrying a tan raincoat. Seth climbed off, and Xavier spread the coat over his father, including his face. Seth pulled it back and again tried to discern a pulse in the neck. He shook his head and continued pressing on Vasquez’s chest with rhythmic thumps. “Come on, Al. Don’t give up,” he told his patient. “Where’s the ambulance?” he called out. “Did you call for an ambulance?” I asked Xavier. He ran back inside the house.
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