Black Friday by William W. Johnstone Read Free Book Online Page A

around on it. People who only saw her in jeans might not even realize she was missing part of her leg.
    She would always know it, though.
    She didn’t bother putting on the prosthesis just to go to the bathroom and open the medicine cabinet. The crutch she kept by the bed was good enough for that. She shook a pill from the prescription bottle into the palm of her other hand and closed the cabinet, then swallowed the pill dry and looked at herself in the mirror.
    Her sandy blond hair was still cut short to fit in a flight helmet, even though she wouldn’t be taking the controls ever again. There weren’t any more lines around her eyes and the corners of her mouth than you’d find on the faces of most women in their late thirties.
    Once she had overheard one of her oldest son Andrew’s friends telling Andrew how hot she was, which had embarrassed Andy, of course and almost started a fight.
    Where the image broke down was her eyes. They had seen too much
    Luckily, she had come home to a loving husband, good kids, and a peaceful life. She had figured she would put everything else behind her.
    She was trying, but so far the results had been mixed.
    Tom was pretending to read again when she got back to bed, but she saw the way his eyes cut toward her now and then in a sideward glance.
    â€œI know I’ve probably been taking a few too many pills,” she said as she climbed into bed. “I’ll cut back on them. I really need to get some decent sleep tonight, though. I’ve got Christmas shopping tomorrow.”
    â€œYou don’t have to go shopping the day after Thanksgiving, you know,” he said. “It’ll be all right if you wait until next week when the crowds aren’t so bad.”
    â€œNo, you and the kids had to celebrate Christmas without me for too many years already.”
    â€œHey, we always Skyped.”
    â€œIt’s not the same thing and you know it,” Jamie said. “I promised myself that the first Christmas I was back, I’d go out the day after Thanksgiving and buy presents for all of you. You know how it is when you set a goal for yourself.”
    â€œSure,” he said. Tom Vasquez knew about goals. He was the vice president of a corporation that made machine parts for the U.S. Air Force through various Department of Defense contracts, so he had to be goal oriented and diligent. Jamie was the same way. She’d always thought that was one reason they got along as well as they did.
    He went on, “But if you get up in the morning and don’t feel like it, you don’t have to go. Hey, you can always buy stuff online. You can get almost anything that way now.”
    â€œNo,” Jamie said, shaking her head stubbornly. She felt the pill beginning to take effect already, so she slid down in the bed and pulled the covers over her again. Drowsily, she said, “I’m going to the mall tomorrow, just like I promised myself. I did three tours in Afghanistan . . . after all . . . How bad . . . can a shopping mall . . . be?”

Chapter 8
    H abib and Assouri went into the apartment house lobby. No one was around. One of the lights in the small lobby was burned out, so it was only dimly illuminated. Habib could see well enough to make out the names on the labels under the buttons. He pushed the button marked REED .
    The voice that came scratchily from the intercom speaker sounded annoyed as it asked, “Who’s there?”
    â€œHabib and Mahmoud,” the younger man answered.
    â€œOh. Come on up, then.”
    The buzzer sounded, signaling that the inner door was unlocked. Mahmoud pulled it open and held it for Habib.
    Donald Reed lived on the third floor. The two men were in good shape, so the climb didn’t bother them. When they reached the hallway, they walked quietly down it to the door of 307, Reed’s apartment. He was waiting for them with the door open a couple of inches. He swung it back as they approached