Blindside by Catherine Coulter Read Free Book Online Page B

for him and that’s what he and eight or so other agents do.”
    â€œSounds like something I’d want real simplified.”
    Glen Hodges laughed. “I’m with you, Sheriff. Oops, we’re starting to break up. You get in these mountains, and you’re down faster than you can catch a snake. You take care of the boy, ma’am. We’re coming as fast as we can.”
    Katie slipped her cell back into her shirt pocket. She asked herself again what more she could do. She didn’t come up with an answer.
    At nearly ten o’clock that night the worst fall storm in twenty years—according to the weather folk—seemed to be fizzling out. There was less rain, but the howling winds were still a nice side show, keeping people hunkered down in their homes, hoping their trees wouldn’t be uprooted.
    She couldn’t imagine being up in a small airplane in this wind. She looked out Keely’s bedroom window, north, toward Ackerman’s Air Field, and said a little prayer.
    All in all, they’d lucked out, Katie thought as she closed the window and walked over to Keely’s bed and gave her a kiss and smoothed her eyebrows. “I can tell you’re awake, sweetie. You just smiled. You love the sound of the rain, don’t you?”
    â€œOh yes, Mama, and the wind howling like banshees—that’s what Grandma says. You told me you liked it, too, Mama, when you were my age.”
    â€œYes, I remember pressing my nose against the window, wanting lightning, more lightning, and with it, the boom of thunder—the closer the better.”
    â€œCan I go press my nose—”
    â€œNo, not tonight. You’re going to sleep now, Keely.”
    â€œIs Sam okay?”
    â€œYep, he’s just fine.” One more kiss and Katie sat by her daughter until her breathing evened into sleep. Then she walked to the window and pressed her nose against the glass. It wasn’t the same. Her nose was cold and shewanted to sneeze. She left Keely’s bedroom, knowing she’d pass the night easily, the sound of the rain a lullaby to her daughter.
    Wade had had only one emergency call some twenty minutes before from Mr. Amos Halley, who’d gotten himself stuck in his garage when the electricity had gone out and the door opener wouldn’t work. Even the manual override was stuck. Wade, pulled from his dinner, had nearly cried, but he’d gone over to the Halley house where Mrs. Halley stood in the entryway, arms crossed over her bosom, shaking her head, and told him, “Leave the old man in there, Wade. If you let him out, he’ll just go drinking down at the tavern.”
    Wade had tried his best to get the garage door open, but the sucker hadn’t budged. Then the electricity came back on, and he was a hero, at least to Amos, who claimed he was near to croaking of a heart attack it was so black and airless inside the garage.
    As Wade downshifted his jeep, he saw Amos Halley drive off toward the east side of town—that’s where the Long Shot Tavern had been hunkered down since just after World War II.
    The rain had lightened up considerably, but winds still buffeted the jeep. There would probably be some flooding, but nothing they couldn’t handle. All in all, it wasn’t bad. He hoped one of the deputies would spot the gray van. He’d told them to call him first.
    He made it home in record time and grinned at Glenda.
    But something hit him about five minutes later. It was worry, real deep worry, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

7
    K atie checked on Sam, then sat down with a cup of coffee after putting some more logs in the fireplace. The fire made the living room warm, shadowy, and cozy. It was as if she’d commanded it to happen. Her cell rang. “Sheriff Benedict here.”
    â€œThis is Agent Hodges, Sheriff. I just got a call from Agent Ashburn. The van is a gunmetal gray Dodge, full license is LTD 3109,