Since her beat was the bar scene in Lexington, on most nights you’d find Ellie trolling from bar to bar, having a blast or so it seemed. She wrote about Kentucky’s gift to the world, namely the king of spirits, bourbon. Affable, easy-going and easy on the eyes, Ellie had what many believed to be the perfect job, a bit like a brilliant sleeper testing mattresses for a living. But once she hit her late ‘30’s, Ellie couldn’t seem to shed that growing tire encircling what used to be her slender waist and so she took up swimming. When the hot weather rolled into town, as it does without mercy here in the Bluegrass state, Ellie headed to the local pool, lake or ponds and did laps. Then the budget cuts hit. Lifeguards became scarce, but still people flocked to their favorite watering hole for some measure of relief. Ellie was midway through her daily swim when she spotted an elderly woman struggling. Ellie swam over. Tried to help the panicked woman but instead of relaxing into Ellie’s able grip, the woman grabbed Ellie and pulled her down. Ellie shot up for air. The woman yanked so hard at Ellie’s bathing suit that it ripped. Naked now, and desperate to get away from the clutches of the drowning woman, Ellie screamed for help as she gurgled under a third time. And then she woke up.