Scott Free by John Gilstrap Read Free Book Online Page B

God’s sake. Cut him a break.” This entry into the conversation came from James Alexander. Blue-black, and built like the linebacker he’d been all through college, James had a voice that made the ground tremble.
    Barry arched an eyebrow. “You a heavy-metal fan, James?”
    James smiled. “Helps me digest my watermelon. I read in the Denver Post that this is their tour to end all tours. Tickets are scalping for a thousand bucks a pop.”
    â€œThe hell you doin’ reading the Denver Post?” Jesse wanted to know. Even if he’d seen James’s Phi Beta Kappa key, he wouldn’t have known what it was.
    â€œDenver, New York, Washington and L.A.,” James said. “I read all four.”
    â€œEvery day?”
    James laughed. “Only Denver on the weekends. That make you feel better? All that Sunday supplement crap makes me feel guilty about all the trees I’m killing.” Then, to Whitestone, “So we’re not gonna do anything tonight about the crash?”
    â€œWe can pray and think pleasant thoughts. Unless you’ve got better ideas.”
    â€œThey’re dead,” James said. “If they weren’t when they hit the ground, then they sure as hell are now.”
    â€œDon’t be so sure,” Barry cautioned. “I got a message from the…” He rummaged through his pockets looking for the slip of paper where he’d jotted the note. “…the Fairfax County Police Department in Virginia, where one of the fathers lives. Dad wanted us to know that his boy—the youngest victim, Scott O’Toole—has had winter wilderness survival training.”
    â€œThat’s bullshit,” James blurted. “How old is he?”
    â€œSixteen, I think. Maybe fifteen. I don’t remember.”
    â€œWell, it’s bullshit.”
    This drew an incredulous laugh from the chief. “Why is it bull shit?”
    â€œBecause no sixteen-year-old can keep himself alive in the mountains during a snowstorm. Lord Almighty, it’s near zero degrees out there.”
    â€œEverywhere I turn, I’m surrounded by optimism,” Charlotte mocked.
    â€œIt’s not about optimism,” James argued. “It’s about pragmatism. Reality.”
    â€œSo you say, ‘write them off and assume they’re dead?’ Sounds to me like you’re in the wrong line of work.”
    Jesse intervened with hands outstretched, as if he were stopping traffic. “Easy, guys.” To Barry: “What about tomorrow?”
    The chief shook his head. “I think the Air Force’ll be able to get somebody up over the storm to listen for their locator beacon, but a rescue will depend on the weather. The Civil Air Patrol will be scrambled to head up that part of the search.”
    This triggered a disdainful snort from James.
    â€œWhat now?” Charlotte wanted to know.
    â€œThe Civil Air Patrol? You ever seen the Civil Air Patrol?”
    Charlotte made a motion with her shoulders that might have been a shrug.
    â€œI’ve seen them around my little brother’s high school. They’re kids. Air Force wanna-bes whose voices haven’t changed yet.”
    Looking shocked, Charlotte turned to Barry for confirmation.
    The chief half nodded. “They’re really an Air Force auxiliary, and yeah, the high school kids—cadets, they call them—do a lot of the leg work. But the commanders are all active duty or retired military.”
    â€œAm I the only one thinking about the movie Taps?” Jesse asked.
    â€œI don’t believe that,” Charlotte said. “Who are all those people swarming all over crash scenes on the news?”
    â€œWe’re not talking a 747 here,” Barry explained. “This was a little Cessna with two people on board. The Civil Air Patrol has jurisdiction over the search. That’s just the way it is.”
    â€œUnless you’re an