Blood Trade: A Sean Coleman Thriller by John A. Daly Read Free Book Online

position in his bed kept him from seeing the man’s collar.
To her, it was quite visible and quite obvious. She probably thought Sean was making
some tasteless joke at the expense of a man of God.
    He had come across like a creep.
    When the man in black stood up, Sean peered at the cover of the book he held. Below
the title, Turn the Tables , was an artist’s rendition of the famous Cleansing of
the Temple narrative where Jesus had overturned the tables of the money changers
in the synagogue. Sean shook his head.
    In her trips in and out of the backroom over the next hour or so, Jessica didn’t
make eye contact with Sean. Not once. If she had, he would have signaled her over
and settled the misunderstanding. He wasn’t sure himself why it was so important
that he set the record straight. The old Sean Coleman wouldn’t have cared about offending
anyone or saying something unpopular. The old Sean Coleman would have blown off her
attitude. Today’s Sean Coleman cared.
    Maybe it had something to do with his failed relationship with his ex-girlfriend,
Lisa. The two had met each other under turbulent circumstances six months earlier,
and their unconventional romance had never quite found its legs. She lived two states
away in Las Vegas, and with phone conversation being their primary means of communication,
their partnership was perhaps doomed from the start.
    He had never been a man of great verbal eloquence. Words often left his mouth differently
than the way he intended. All parts of his life suffered from it. It didn’t help
that Lisa was a recent widow who needed more comfort and compassion than could be
given over a phone. His awkward pauses and long minutes of silence had perhaps been
interpreted by her as indifference.
    When the plasma extraction was complete and Sean’s machine let off its own series
of beeps, a young man in scrubs attended to him. In just a matter of minutes, the
needle was free from Sean’s arm and the puncture covered with cotton and gauze. A
lot of beds were empty by then. The larger one’s body mass was, the longer the process
took, so several people who’d come in to donate after Sean had already been wrapped
up and sent on their way.
    Jessica was still in the backroom. A shade was pulled across the window, but he knew
she was there.
    When he was all set, he stood up with the ticket he had been given to cash in back
at the front desk, but he wasn’t ready to leave quite yet. He waited until the handful
of remaining attendants was ministering to others before he cautiously walked over
to the backroom. When he was certain no one else was watching, he twisted the knob
on the door that led in and quickly entered.
    The bright light from the larger outer room flooded into the small, darkened office
and Jessica’s body jolted forward. In a clear panic, she feverishly clicked buttons
on the computer mouse as she nervously glared at the monitor in front of her.
    On the monitor, Sean noticed the words The Denver Post written in a large, bold black
font. Underneath the text was a close-up photo of a man in his forties or fifties
with thick sandy-blond hair. His arm was wrapped around a young, attractive woman
in her early twenties with long brown hair. Sean recognized neither of them but was
familiar with the longstanding Denver Post . Jessica had been reading an online version
of the statewide newspaper.
    The web browser window hosting it disappeared and Jessica spun around in her chair
to face whoever it was that had just stepped into the room. Tears were streaming
down her cheeks and her eyes were red. She had been crying, but her expression was
a mix between despair and alarm, which suddenly changed to fury when she realized
it was Sean.
    “What in the hell are you doing back here?” she snarled loudly, leaping to her feet.
“You can’t be back here! This room is for employees only!” Her chest heaved in fury
with each deep breath. Her lower lip quivered as she stared at him, her eyes