The Collectors by David Baldacci Read Free Book Online

Camel Club in the past and been named an honorary member of the club for his heroics.
    Ford stayed for half an hour and was relieved to find that Caleb would be okay.
    He said, “Take care of yourself, Caleb. And call me if you need anything.”
    “How are things at WFO?” Stone asked him, referring to the Service’s Washington Field Office.
    “Way too busy. The criminal elements have kicked it into overdrive.”
    “Well, I hope you’ve recovered fully from our little adventure.”
    “I don’t call a potential global apocalypse a little adventure. And I don’t think I’ll ever fully recover.”
    After Alex Ford had left, Caleb turned to the others. “It was truly horrible,” he said. “There he was just lying on the floor.”
    “And you fainted?” Stone asked, his gaze fixed on his friend.
    “I must have. I remember turning the corner, looking for my sweater, and there he was. God, I almost stumbled over him. I saw his eyes. My mind went blank. My chest tightened. I felt so cold. I thought I was having a heart attack. And then I just passed out.”
    Reuben put a hand on Caleb’s shoulder. “A lot of people would’ve fainted.”
    Milton piped in, “The National Psychiatric Foundation reports that finding a dead body ranks as the second most traumatic event a human being can experience.”
    Reuben raised his eyebrows at this comment. He said, “What’s the number one traumatic experience? Finding your spouse in bed with a monkey holding a can of expired Cheez Whiz?”
    “Did you know DeHaven well?” Stone asked Caleb.
    “Yes. It’s tragic, really. He was in excellent shape. He’d just had a complete cardio workup at Hopkins. But I guess anyone can have a heart attack.”
    “Is that what it was, a heart attack?” Stone said.
    Caleb looked uncertain. “What else could it be? Or a stroke perhaps?”
    “Statistically speaking, it was probably a heart attack,” Milton added. “It’s the leading cause of so-called instant death in this country. In fact, any of us could drop at any moment and be dead before we hit the floor.”
    “Damn, Milton,” Reuben retorted, “do you have to be so bloody cheerful?”
    “Until the autopsy results come back we can only speculate,” Stone pointed out. “But you didn’t see anyone else in the vault area, did you?”
    Caleb stared up at his friend. “No.”
    “But you passed out pretty quickly, so you wouldn’t have necessarily noticed anyone else around on the fourth floor?”
    “Oliver, you can’t get in the vault without using your pass card. And there’s a camera right there at the main door.”
    Stone looked thoughtful. “First, the Speaker of the House is murdered, and now the director of the Rare Books Division dies under somewhat mysterious circumstances.”
    Reuben eyed him warily. “I doubt terrorists are targeting book peddlers these days, so don’t work this into another grand conspiracy with the fate of the world in the balance. I can only take one Armageddon per month, thank you very much.”
    Stone’s eyes twinkled. “We’ll table the issue for now until we know more.”
    “I can give you a ride home, Caleb,” Reuben said. “I have my motorcycle.”
    Reuben’s pride was his fully restored 1928 Indian motorcycle with the very rare left-hand sidecar.
    “I don’t think I’m up to that, Reuben.” Caleb paused and added, “Frankly, that contraption of yours terrifies me.”
    A nurse bustled in, took the patient’s vitals and stuck a temperature reader in Caleb’s left ear.
    “Can I go home soon?” he asked.
    She took the reader out and looked at it. “You’re almost up to normal. And yes, I think the doctor is preparing the discharge orders now.”
    As arrangements were made for Caleb’s release, Stone drew Reuben aside.
    “Let’s keep an eye on Caleb for a while.”
    “Why? You think he’s really hurt?”
    “I don’t want him to
get
hurt.”
    “The guy died from a coronary, Oliver. It happens every day.”
    “But