John Saul by Guardian Read Free Book Online Page B

Rick,” Gillie said, “if you thought something was hunting you in the woods in the middle of the night, would you start yelling? Of course not!”
    Rick felt his face redden as he realized she was right. “Is that when you came back here?” he asked, turning his attention back to Joey.
    Joey shook his head. “Me and Storm just stayed where we were, and after a while we didn’t hear anything anymore. And then—” His voice broke and he had to choke back a sob. “And then there was this scream—it was awful, like—” He fell silent. A tear ran down his cheek.
    “Like what, son?” Rick asked, almost afraid to hear what the boy would say next.
    “… like she was falling.…” Joey sobbed, choking on the words.
    As Gillie started around the end of the counter to comfort the boy, Rick held her back with a gesture. “Where were you, Joey?” he asked. When the boy made no response, he pressed a little harder. “When you heard your mother scream, where were you?”
    Joey looked up, trying to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat “We were on the trail to the bluff,” he whispered. “And—and after I heard it, Storm and me—we went to look for her.” He gazed down at the big dog, who was stretched out on the floor now, his muzzle between his front paws. As though he felt his master’s eyes on him, the shepherd looked up expectantly. “I told him to find Mom,” Joey whispered. “And I thought he did, too. He started wagging his tail, and I had to run to keep up with him. But when we got to the top of the bluff …” His voice trailed off.
    “What, Joey?” Rick pressed. “What did you find when you got to the top of the bluff?”
    “The flashlight” Joey breathed. “The one she got from the barn.”
    Joey stared down at Storm. As if sensing the boy’s misery, the dog sat up and licked at his hand. Rick’s eyes met Gillie’s.
    “I think I better go have a look at the base of the bluff,” he said.
    He left the house and started across the field toward the thin strip of lodgepole pines that grew at the base of the vertical face of Sugarloaf Mountain. The moon was still high, and he could see clearly the wide ledge two hundred feet above the valley floor. It was easily accessible by the trail that began on the south side of the field. Once, he recalled now, when he was eighteen, he and two friends had reached the top by scaling the face of the granite wall, using pitons and lines, and praying they wouldn’t get caught before they made it.
    Snapping on his flashlight, he made his way quickly through the stand of pines, then began climbing over the boulders that studded the land at the bluff’s foot.
    Within minutes he found Audrey Wilkenson’s body, twisted and broken, lying facedown at the base of one of the boulders. Though there was no question she was dead, he checked for a pulse anyway, then snapped on his radio. “I’ve found her, Tony,” he said. “I’m at the base of Sugarloaf. Get up here as fast as you can.” No more than twenty seconds later he saw the headlights of Moleno’s squad car come on, then watched as the car wove down the twisting drive from Bill Sikes’s house, then headed across the field directly toward him.
    “Was Sikes there?” he called as Tony emerged from the woods and began scrambling across the boulders.
    “Oh, yeah,” Moleno replied. “And you were right. Drunk as a skunk. Looked like—” His eyes suddenly fell on Audrey Wilkenson’s body, and the words died on his lips. “Oh, Jeez,” he whispered. “That poor kid.”
    “Start calling for help,” Rick ordered, masking his shock and sorrow with gruff efficiency. “I’m going to have to go back to the house.”
    He started across the field once more, his steps deliberate, wondering how he was going to tell Joey Wilkenson that not only his father had died that day, but that his mother had, too. Except, he realized as his hand pushed the kitchen door open a few moments later, he