Time of Attack by Marc Cameron Read Free Book Online

shooter hasn’t made it off the campus.”
    “Way ahead of you,” the Cajun said. “Security Police just arrived. They’re lockin’ down the gates as we speak.”
    Quinn hung up, torn between the urge to run down the person who’d shot Kim and the responsibility to stay by her side. He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. Her eyes were closed and the oxygen mask covered her face, but he felt her give him a weak squeeze in return.
    “Dammit!” The heavyset paramedic watching the monitor wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of an arm.
    “What?” Quinn held his breath.
    Kim’s hand fell away.

C HAPTER 3
    Kanab, Utah
     
    R ick Bedford’s eyes snapped open. He groaned and smacked his lips, trying to figure out where he was. The sheets were soft and free of dirt, and the room was a comfortable temperature—sensations he found completely foreign to recent experience. It took a few seconds for reality to seep back into his addled brain and bring the realization that there was a naked woman clinging to him under those soft sheets.
    He sighed, letting his body relax again. The smell of his bride so close now after such a long absence was balm for his wounded soul.
    His arm tingled from the weight of her head on his shoulder. Muscles cramped in his leg where her thigh draped across his, damp, sweating from skin-to-skin contact. He didn’t care and would have happily drifted back to blissful sleep. Still, he didn’t want to have his arm amputated.
    “Sorry,” he whispered, lifting Marta’s hand. He sighed again as her body slid away from his.
    “It’s all right.” From the sound of her voice, Bedford could tell she’d been awake for some time—probably never even gone to sleep. “The girls will be home from Kendra’s anytime now.” She smiled, hair mussed from the nap—and other things. “They’re pretty smart teenagers, so I should have a shower before they get home.”
    “I’ve been gone the better part of a year.” Rick laughed. “If they’re all that smart, having a shower won’t hide much from them.”
    Marta batted her eyes. A sure sign that she wanted him to stay in bed a few minutes longer.
    “I hired a new girl at work,” she said.
    “Do I know her?” Bedford asked, as much to hear his wife’s voice as to learn about any new employee. He’d never really thought about it, but these little “afterward” talks were something he’d missed.
    “Not unless you’ve had a pedicure in China.” Marta yawned. She threw her arms above her head in a shuddering stretch. “She just arrived in the U.S. and needed a job. Her name’s Haifa.”
    “Haifa doesn’t sound Chinese.” Bedford took a long look at his wife across the pillow. He had to pee but couldn’t quite bring himself to leave her.
    “She’s something else besides Chinese.” Marta shrugged. “Anyway, customers are eating up these pedicures. You should try one.”
    “I thought you warned me about letting foreign women touch my feet.” Bedford swung his feet to the floor, wincing as his hip brushed across the sheets. Naked, he craned his neck to try to see what was causing him so much pain. “Whew!” he gasped, swaying like he might pass out as he moved to the closet mirror. It felt as if something had stung him right above his tailbone. “Take a look at this, sweetie. I can’t really see what it is.” He flipped on the overhead light, then turned so Marta, too, could see.
    She sat up in bed, letting the sheets slide off.
    “Oh, my heck, Richard.” She whispered the strongest language that ever came out of her mouth. “That’s the biggest boil I’ve ever seen. You should have Doctor Todd take a look at it.”
    “Hmmm,” Bedford said, still craning to look for himself. “First you want some Chinese woman to touch my feet and now you want the man that married your sister to check out my butt.”
    “This is serious, Rick.” Marta put on her best pouty face. “Abraham Lincoln’s son died from a