Blindside (16 page)

“She's a killer,” Savich said, and smiled at his wife.

Sherlock just grinned. “Now, hold still, Miles. Goodness, you've got big feet. What, size twelve?”

“Just about.”

“Well, you've got a big body to support, so that's okay.”

“What size does Savich wear?”

Sherlock patted his arch. “A twelve.”

Katie stretched out her long narrow bandaged feet in front of her. “Well, I'm nearly five-ten, not all that much shorter than you guys. Maybe someday I can wear a twelve, too. Just three sizes to go.”

Savich watched his wife putting Band-Aids on Miles's feet when he wasn't watching Sam and Dr. Raines. He wanted to move from the chair to that very comfortable sofa to relieve the pain in his back. He also wanted some tea. He took everyone's order and went to the kitchen. He saw Katie start to follow him and held up his hand. “Nope, you just sit there and let those size nines recover. If you
abuse them, they just might never grow. I'll find everything, and I won't make a mess.”

Dr. Sheila Raines, holding both of Sam's hands, said quietly against his temple, “Your papa is so scared I think he's going to start howling at the moon.”

Sam gave her a long look and said, “Clancy's not going to come back anymore, is he?”

T
hat
stopped the show for about ten seconds. Then Sheila answered him. “No, he's not, and that's a very good thing. He was a criminal, Sam, and criminals shouldn't be allowed to terrorize us. What do you think about him and Beau being dead?”

Sam thought about it, bit his lower lip, shot a look toward his father, and said at long last, “It's just that one minute he was yelling and then . . . he was just . . . gone. There was this gunshot, and he was dead, just like my mama. I'm not glad my mama's dead.”

Oh dear.
At least Sam was talking, thank God. Sheila leaned her forehead against Sam's and said not an inch from his nose, “Trust me on this, Sam. Your mama's in Heaven and I'll bet she's kicking up her heels that you're okay. All the angels are cheering and I'll bet you there's even a big smile on Saint Peter's face.

“As for Beau and Clancy, they're probably so deep in Hell that the Devil doesn't even know where they are.”

Sam thought about that, pulled back and smiled at her. He said, his little boy's voice sounding strong again, “Next
time Mama talks to me, I'll ask her if she's heard anything about Beau and Clancy.”

“That's a great idea. You can tell the sheriff what your mama says.”

Miles wanted to shout when he saw that smile and heard Sam's words. He had no idea what Dr. Raines had said to get Sam speaking again, but she'd done it and he owed her forever.

He said, “Sam, would you please come over and hug me? I'm really on the shaky side. You'd better hurry before I fall over. I don't want to drop Keely. You don't want me to do that, do you?”

Slowly, Sam slid off the sofa and walked to his father. He stood there a moment, his hand on his father's knee, and he patted Sherlock's shoulder. “Hi, sweetie,” Sherlock said, and kissed his cheek. “Just look at your father's poor feet. You want to put on this last Band-Aid?”

With great concentration, Sam went down on his knees beside Sherlock and smashed the Band-Aid down. At least it covered most of the cut.

Miles picked him up and settled him on his other leg. He held both children close and began rocking slowly. He whispered against Sam's ear, “You are the bravest boy I have ever known. I am so proud of you.”

Sam released a long breath and settled against his father's shoulder. “Don't drop me, Papa. Don't worry about Keely, she's not as heavy as I am.”

“No, she's not. But you, champ, are all muscle and bone. You just settle in, Sam, and I won't complain.”

Sherlock rose and stepped back. She looked down at Keely, whose head was tucked into Miles's neck, then at Sam, whose eyes were already closed as his father rubbed his head.

Dr. Raines said after Sam had settled in for a while, “It's not over yet for him, but this is a good start.” She rose.
“Mr. Kettering, I would like to see Sam tomorrow morning, if that's okay. About ten o'clock?”

Miles looked over at Savich, who'd just walked into the living room, carrying a tray. He nodded. “Yes, that would be fine, Dr. Raines. We'll be there.”

“Please call me Sheila.”

“Thank you, Sheila. You got him to talk again. I'm very grateful.”

“He's already out like a light. Good. Sleep, that's the best thing for him right now.” She lowered her voice even more. “There may be nightmares, Mr. Kettering. Sam had to retreat inside himself for a while, to protect himself, you understand, to close off the horror of what happened. I coaxed him out again, made him pay attention, but the thing is, he really wanted to come back. Being with Keely will help, and with you, of course. He's a strong little boy, you're right about that.” She turned to Katie, waved her hand to keep her seated. “No, don't move, Sheriff. In my medical opinion, you should stay off your size nines.”

“You're a shrink, Sheila.”

“Yeah, but I did think once about becoming an internist, and then I decided I'd rather sleep at night. It's been a pleasure to meet all of you. Perhaps we'll have time to speak more tomorrow. Katie, Miles, try to keep Keely with Sam, okay? My guess is that she's more important to him right now than any of us.”

Sheila laid her hand on Katie's shoulder. “If you want to talk to me about things, I'm there for you, don't forget it. It's been a horrendous few days for all of you, but the bottom line is that Sam's safe. By the way, I've always loved that sleep shirt,
Pulp Nonfiction.
Your dad gave it to you, right?”

“Yes, shortly before he died. Thank you for coming and helping, Sheila. I owe you.”

“Not this time you don't. Would you look at Keely. I swear she's grown and I saw her just a week ago.”

Dr. Raines didn't stay for tea, saying it was well after midnight and she would be jumping off her ceiling if she got any caffeine into her at this hour.

Savich said as he set the tray down on the sofa side table, “I just spoke to Wade, Katie. He got Clancy to the medical examiner. He sounded really impressed this time with how you got Clancy. Since I didn't know any details, I couldn't tell him much about it. Would you like to tell me exactly what happened so I'll know how close I was?”

Katie looked closely at the children to make sure they were asleep before she closed her eyes a moment, and leaned her head back against the chair. “Clancy jumped off the porch, I ran after him. He didn't get far. He was wheezing when I caught up to him. I told him to freeze and, you won't believe this, he started laughing at me, said I wouldn't shoot him like I did Beau because if I did, I'd be a real sorry bitch, said I'd be taken down if I shot him, he promised me that.

“When he caught his breath, he ducked behind a maple tree. I think he knew I didn't want to shoot him, that I wanted to know who he was working for. Unfortunately, I got too close and he charged me. I heard Miles coming behind me, but I knew he wasn't in time. I tried to aim for Clancy's knee, but when he hit me, my SIG jerked up and I got him squarely in the chest. He just stood there, staring blankly at me, as if he couldn't believe that I'd actually shot him. He tried to reach out for my gun, but I took a step back and he just collapsed. He was dead, Miles checked him, too, to make sure. It was an accident, really. I'm sorry, guys, I wanted him alive.”

Sherlock said, “As I said before, I for one am vastly relieved that Clancy is dead. I don't think he would ever have stopped. Now we need to find out who's behind it.”

Savich handed each of them a cup of tea. “This is excellent tea, Katie. I was prepared to make do with a tea bag.”

“I've always loved Darjeeling,” she said. “My mom
gave me my first cup when I was about ten years old. I've never looked back. Bless my mom, she replenished my stock just last week.”

Mundane things, Sherlock thought, looking from Miles to Katie, to help them put some of this fear behind them. She thought of Sean, her own beautiful little boy, and shivered. Sometimes, the littlest things, silly things really, were just what you needed to remind you that life was coming back to normal, that life was usually just fine, thank you.

Savich carefully rose and straightened his back as best he could. “Sherlock and I will be heading back to Mother's Very Best now. If you guys need anything, call us. Otherwise we'll see you here in the morning.”

For the second time, Katie and Miles went to bed, Miles with Sam sprawled over his shoulder, Katie holding a sleepy Keely, who whispered, “I wanna sleep with you, Mama.”

“I was just thinking the same thing, sweetie. You won't hog the bed, will you?”

Keely gave her a big grin. “I like to sleep sideways, Mama.”

Katie was smiling until it hit her again. She'd shot two men in two days, shot them both dead. Odd how it all felt rather distant now. She no longer felt that debilitating shock that had slammed through her earlier. Now she felt strangely detached. Was it because she'd done something that made her not quite human? No, that was the wrong way to look at it. She set her jaw. She would face this, she would settle it in her mind, once and for all.

W
hen
Katie woke up early the following morning, Keely wasn't in bed with her. She jumped out of bed and came to an abrupt halt just inside the living room. There, lying on their stomachs on a blanket, were Sam and Keely, watching cartoons, the sound turned down low.

Katie looked down at her feet. For that panicked moment, she'd forgotten her sore feet. Then she thought of Miles. If he woke up he'd be wild with panic when he saw Sam was gone.

She didn't say anything, just ignored her throbbing feet, trotted to the guest bedroom, and stuck her head in. Miles was lying on his back, the covers pushed down to his waist, his chest bare. One arm was above his head, the other hand rested on his belly. His dark hair was standing on end, witness to an uneasy night, and his face was dark with stubble. He was sleeping deeply.

She looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table and saw that it was only just after six o'clock. Let him sleep.

She stood there a moment looking at Sam's father, really looking at the man she'd come to trust and admire in
just two days' time, then grabbed a couple of blankets from her bedroom and went back into the living room.

An old Road Runner cartoon was playing, but the kids weren't watching it. They'd both fallen asleep. She turned off the TV.

She pushed the kids apart, marveling at how utterly boneless they were, just like cats. They didn't stir at all. She got down between them, and managed to get the three blankets over them. She put an arm around each child and drew them close. They snuggled in. She smiled as she closed her eyes, holding their small bodies close and safe.

An hour later, Miles woke up, realized that Sam wasn't there, and came running into the living room. There was the sheriff of Jessborough lying on her side, her hair out of its French braid, loose and long, draped over a sofa pillow. She was spooning Sam and Keely was spooning her, and all three of them were sound asleep.

For a very long time Miles stood in the doorway, looking at them, then looking at the sheriff holding them, and knew to his gut that everything was changing. He'd felt frozen inside since Alicia's death, but no longer. He turned and walked into the kitchen, made some coffee and pulled out his cell phone to call his sister-in-law, Ann Malcolm. He had called her Sunday morning, to reassure her that Sam was okay, but hadn't had time to tell her much. He'd trusted Butch Ashburn to keep her informed. He wasn't planning on telling her much this time either because there was no reason to upset her with it all. He didn't want to be on the phone anyway. He wanted to be lying in that living room holding Sam.

“Hey, Cracker, it's me, Miles.”

She yelled into his ear: “It's seven o'clock on a bloody Monday morning! It's about time you called again, you jerk!” Miles smiled and she was off.

Miles held his cell phone a good two feet from his ear until he heard her running down. Then she started firing
questions at him. He pictured her in his mind as they talked. She was wearing one of her gorgeous peignoir sets, no doubt—that's what she called them, honest to God. Whereas her sister, his wife Alicia, who had always had both feet a bit off the ground and a song always on her lips, had worn flannel pajamas. Cracker was a part-time estate lawyer, with a big mouth and a sharp brain. She loved Sam, and that was the most important thing.

“Yes,” he said, breaking in at last, “everything is okay now. I'm okay. Sam is okay. There's lots to tell you, Cracker, but you're going to have to wait for the unabridged version. Hey, do you know anyone in Jessborough, Tennessee?”

“Me? I've never even heard of Jessborough, Tennessee. What's going on, Miles?”

“That's another reason I called. I thought we'd be coming right back, but not just yet. Sam's seeing a local shrink, and I think she's really good. She came over last night after there was more violence.”

Cracker nearly lost it.
“Violence? What damned violence? Are you nuts, Miles? Bring him home!”

When he could talk over her, and assure her again that they were safe, Miles said, “I'll keep you posted. Please, Cracker, don't worry. Now, I need you to work closely with the FBI—Agent Butch Ashburn was here but he wanted to get back, to get to the bottom of this.”

“This sheriff . . . what's her name?”

“Katie Benedict. She's good, Cracker, really good. She's quick, has a solid center, and she's got guts. She's probably got lots more, but that's a good start. Like I told you, she saved Sam.”

“Is she like the woman sheriff in Mel Gibson's movie
Signs
?”

“Well, maybe, only younger. She's really together, like that sheriff was.”

“Okay, that's great, but Miles, I want you to bring Sam home. I miss him, you know?”

“I know. Sam is seeing a shrink this morning, so that's one thing keeping us here. Plus the sheriff has a little girl, Keely. She and Sam are really tight. Dr. Raines believes Keely is very important to Sam right now. I'm not about to risk Sam's progress by separating them. And the thing is, Sam's probably just as safe here as he would be back home. So, for the next couple of days, I'm keeping him here in Jessborough. Have you thought of anything that could help?”

“No, but the FBI are checking out all your employees, which takes a good long time. They've spoken to everyone—all the neighbors, all Sam's teachers, even the postman. Give Sam a big kiss for me, Miles, and tell him I miss him like mad.”

“I will. Take care. I'll call if something happens. Hold down the fort. I'll call Conrad at the office, make sure everything's running smooth, so don't worry about the business.”

He got Conrad's voice mail. When he slipped his cell back into his pocket, he looked up to see Katie standing in the kitchen doorway. She had socks on her feet and a loose shirt over jeans. She'd pulled her long hair back into a ponytail. She looked fresh and scrubbed. He himself wore socks to protect his Band-Aided feet, jeans from yesterday, and his shirt with two buttons buttoned. He smiled. It felt good.

“Cracker?”

“Yeah. She's my sister-in-law—Alicia's sister. She's lived with us ever since Alicia died. She's really Sam's surrogate mother.”

“Where'd she get the name Cracker?”

“She nearly blew off my foot on the Fourth of July a couple of years back, got called Firecracker, and that came down to Cracker. She's a brick. I trust her even though she's a lawyer, only part-time since Alicia died. The kids still asleep?”

“Yeah. I woke up, saw that Keely wasn't with me in bed, and nearly had heart failure. I found them both in the living room sleeping. They must have been watching cartoons with almost no sound. I checked you, got some blankets, then went back to the living room. What would you like for breakfast, Miles?”

“You checked me?”

She nodded. “I knew if you woke up and Sam wasn't there, you'd be scared, but you were sleeping so deeply I decided not to wake you. Now, what about food?”

He remembered pushing the covers down, and he'd awakened with the covers down, which meant she'd probably seen him sprawled on his back, wearing only his boxer shorts. He hoped he hadn't had a hard-on. Then he found himself wondering what she'd thought. No, that was nuts.

“Food, Miles,” she said.

He blinked. “You know, I haven't thought about food for what is it, three days now, ever since Sam was taken. I'm starving.”

“Good, then bacon and eggs it is. Crispy and scrambled?”