A Ghost of Justice by Jon Blackwood Read Free Book Online

Mom and Dad?"
    Eric knelt down to the boy's level.  Placing his hands on David's shoulders, he said, "That's what I'm supposed to do.  Yes."
    David reached up and hugged Eric around the neck.  "Please come back."
    Suddenly Emily understood.  David probably never knew mortality until he watched his parents being buried, learning that he'd never see them again.
    Eric hugged David close and stood, picking him up as he did.  He looked at her and said, "Ready to go?"
    She nodded.  Swallowing the last of her tea, she took her dishes to the sink.  Behind her she heard the soft thump of David's feet touching the floor as Eric set him down.
    On her way out of the kitchen she stopped by David.  "I'll make sure your granddaddy comes back, Pod."  She used her pet name for him, hoping it would make him feel better.  All he did was nod and walk off.
    Emily shared a glance with her father, who sighed and shrugged.  She went on upstairs.
    When she returned to the kitchen all the adults of the family had materialized.  Even her grandfather was there.  Of course, Grannna Pat wasn't.  She would never leave her room.  That couldn't be helped.
    Emily cursed silently when she found herself looking for Steve and Kelly.  Then she decided maybe they were here in spirit.  She didn't really convince herself of that.  Their mission would keep Steve away.  He abhorred killing: of humans, animals, anything.  But she couldn't see being a pacifist.  Not for her.  Not for this.
    A tapping sounded from the carport door.  Bob was nearest, so he opened it.
    Emily could see that it was a tall woman with short, neat, dark hair, dressed as for church.
    The woman spoke as soon as the door was open.  "Hello.  I'm Joan Devereux.  A young man at Dr. Sheafer's residence told me I would find him here."
    "What do you want with him?" he asked guardedly.
    Ed went forward, saying, "It's okay, Dad.  This is Steve's boss."
    Chagrined, Bob stepped back.  "Of course.  School Superintendent Devereux.  I should have known.  Ed works with you for the family company."
    "Oh, yes.  You must be Mr. Sheafer.  You worked with my predecessor,  Dr. Jessup, about two administrations ago.  Yes.  Ed handles most of our supplies and items," she said smoothly.  "You and I have never really met."
    "That's right.  I've stepped back from the public part of the business and let the sons handle all that.  The county school system is our largest local client.  Ed tells me he still deals directly with you, even after your promotion."
    Joan nodded.  "Steve took my old position, and was highly competent in it, but we felt it might be seen as a conflict of interest if he dealt with his uncle's company."
    "I remember that decision."
    "Well, Ms Devereux," Eric said.  "What brings you to see me on a Sunday?"  The words came out friendly but flat.
    "I just wanted to personally express my condolences to you, Dr. Sheaffer.  All of us at the schools will feel the loss of your son."
    Emily noted how very tall she was.  Standing a half head over her father and inches above Frank, the tallest of the Sheafers.  And the woman was wearing flat heels.
    Devereuax left after a few minutes.  As soon as she was gone Emily had trouble remembering what the woman had said.  Everything was shrouded in a heavy vagueness.
    After all the possible goodbyes had been said, stiff and awkward, Eric and Emily got into the Volvo and drove off in the rain.  She glanced back once at the carport, jammed with her family, seeing them off.

 
     
     
    11
     
     
    A half-hour later they were on 29-North, passing out of the city limits.  Traffic was heavy for a Sunday, but cleared out after the last Reidsville exit.
    Eric switched on the radio, immediately getting a talk show.  "See what else is on," he said.
    Emily ran it through all the bands with neither of them liking the choices.  She switched to the internal selections and picked a Mozart concerto.
    The music brought to mind how hard