No, it was just the storm coming closer, the thunderstorm the Weather Channel had talked about for eastern Tennessee. How could he be in Tennessee?
He had to get up. Fatso and Beau could come out at any moment. The drawers had fallen over, no doubt about that, and the loud noise would bring them into the bedroom fast. They’d see he was gone and they’d be out here with guns and poison and more rope and get him again.
Sam came up on his knees. He felt something sticky on his face and touched it. He’d cut himself with the fall. He turned to look up at the window. It was way far off the ground.
Sam managed to stand up, weaved a bit, then locked his knees. He was okay. Everything was cool. He just had to get out of there.
He started running. He heard Fatso scream the same instant a bolt of lightning struck real close and a boom of thunder rattled his brains. They knew he was gone.
Sam ran into the thick trees, all gold and red and yellow. He didn’t know what kind of trees they were, but there were a lot of them and he was small and could easily weave in and out of them. If they got too close he’d climb one, he was good at that, too good, his father always said.
He heard the men yelling, not far behind him, maybe just a little off to the left. He kept running, panting now, a stitch in his side, but he just kept his legs pumping.
Lightning flashed through the trees, and the thunder was coming so close it sounded like drums playing real loud rock ’n’ roll, like his father did when he thought Sam was outside playing.
Sam heard Fatso yell, and stopped, just for a second. Fatso wasn’t even close. But what about Beau? Beau didn’t have the belly Fatso had, so maybe he could slither through the trees really fast. He could come out from behind a tree and jump Sam, cut his throat.
Sam’s heart was pounding so loud he could hear it. He crouched down behind one of the big trees, made himself as skinny as a shadow, and waited. He got his breath back, pressed his cheek to the bark, and listened. He didn’t hear anything, just the thunder that kept rumbling through the sky. He rubbed his side and the stitch faded. The air felt thick, actually felt like it was raining before the first drop found its way through the thick canopy of leaves and hit him on the jaw.
They’d never see him in the rain. Fatso would probably slip on some mud and land on his fat belly. Sam smiled.
You did it, Sam, you did it.
He’d done it all right. Only thing was he didn’t know where he was.
Where was Tennessee?
Even with the thick tree cover, the rain came down hard. He wondered if the forest was so big he’d come out in Ohio, wherever that was.
4
It was Saturday afternoon, her day off, but with the storm coming, anything could happen. Katie Benedict was driving slowly, listening to the rain slam against the roof of her Silverado. It was hard to see through the thick gray rain even with the windshield wipers working overtime. The mountains were shrouded in fog, thick, heavy, and cold. And now this storm, a vicious one, the weather people were calling it, was on the way. An interesting choice of words, but she bet it was apt. She realized now that she shouldn’t have chanced taking Keely to her piano lesson given the forecast, but she had. At least it had only just started raining, and they were close to home. She just hoped there wouldn’t be any accidents on the road. If there were, she’d be up to her eyebrows in work.
She hunched forward, peering through the thick sheets of rain, Keely quiet beside her. Too quiet.
“Keely, you all right?”
“I’d like to find a rainbow, Mama.”
“Not for a while yet, sweetie, but you keep looking. Hey, I heard you playing your C major scale before. It sounded really good.”
“I’ve worked hard on getting it right, Mama.”
Katie grinned. “I know, but it’s worth it.”
Suddenly, Keely bounced up on the seat, straining against her seat belt, and began waving through the windshield. “Mama, what’s that? Look, it’s a little boy and he’s running!”
Katie saw him. The boy was sopping wet, running out of the woods to her left, not more than fifty feet onto the road in front of her. Then she saw two men burst out of the trees. It was obvious they were after him.
Katie said, even as she reached over and quickly released Keely’s seat belt, “I want you to get down and stay there. Do you understand?”
Keely knew that tone of voice, her mama’s sheriff voice, and nodded, slipping down to the floor.
“Cover your head with your arms. Everything will be fine. Just don’t move, okay?”
“Okay, Mama.”
Katie pulled to a stop, quickly leaned over the front seat and punched in the two numbers to her lock box beneath the back bench. She pulled out her Remington rifle, loaded, ready to go. By the time she opened the door, the men weren’t more than a long arm’s reach from the boy. Thank God he’d seen her and was running toward her. He was yelling, but the wind and rain wiped any sound he made right out.
The big man, his beer gut pounded by the rain, had a gun. Not good. Despite his size he moved quickly. He turned toward her, away from the boy, and raised the gun.
Katie brought up her rifle, cool and fast, and fired, kicking up muddy water not a foot from the fat man’s feet, splattering him to his waist. “I’m the sheriff! Stop right there! Don’t move!”
The skinny man behind him yelled something. The idiot was wearing a long black leather coat that was soaked from the rain. Katie calmly raised her Remington again and fired. This time the shot dug up a huge clod of dirt, spraying the leather coat.
The man in the coat yelled something and grabbed at the fat man’s shirt. The fat man jerked away, yelled something toward the boy, and fired from his hip, a lucky shot in the fog and rain that very nearly hit her.
“You idiot!” she yelled. “I’m Sheriff Benedict. Drop your weapon! Both of you, don’t move a single muscle!” But the fat guy pulled the trigger again, another hip shot, this one nowhere near her. Katie didn’t hesitate, she pulled the trigger and the guy flinched and grabbed his upper arm. She’d wanted to hit him high on the shoulder, wanted to bring him down, but the rain and fog were hard on her aim.
He managed to keep his gun. She had hoped he’d drop it.
She shouted, “Come forward, both of you, slowly!”
But neither of them took a single step toward her, not that she’d expected them to. Both men ran back into the thick trees. She fired after them, once, twice, then a final time. She thought she heard a yell. Good.
The little boy, panting so hard he was heaving, was on her the next instant. He grabbed her arm and shook it.
“You can’t let them go, ma’am! You’ve gotta shoot them again, you gotta kick their butts!”
Katie laid her rifle alongside her leg, and pulled the boy against her. “I got the fat one in the arm. Maybe I got the other one, too, while they were running back into the forest. You can count on it—the fat one’s hurting bad. Now, it’s going to be all right. I’m Sheriff Benedict. I’ll get right on my cell phone and call for some help with those guys. Come into the truck and tell me what’s going on.”
Sam looked up at the tall woman who could have shot Fatso right in his big gut, but had only shot him in the arm instead. “Why didn’t you kill him?”
Katie smiled at the boy as she quickly herded him back to the truck. She didn’t want to hang around here. No telling if those guys would pop back out of the woods. “I try not to kill every bad guy I run into,” she said. “Sometimes I like to bring them in front of a judge.” She squeezed him hard. “You’re okay and that’s all that matters. Now let’s move out of here.”
The narrow bench in the back could hold no more than a couple of skinny kids. What it did have was a stack of blankets, not usually for warmth, but to soften the ride.
She grabbed the blankets and lifted the boy up onto the front seat. “Keely, we’re going to make room for—”
“My name’s Sam.”
“We’re going
to make room for Sam. He’s cold and he’s wet.” She settled him between her and Keely and covered him with five blankets. “Sweetie, don’t worry about your seat belt. You just press close to him to help him warm up, okay?”
“Okay, Mama.” Keely pressed against his back. Her little face was white, her voice a thin thread.
“It’s going to be all right, baby. I don’t want you to worry. I want you to be real brave for Sam here. He needs you to watch over him now. He’s been through something bad. Can you do that?”
Keely nodded, the tears that were near to brimming over nearly gone now. To Katie’s surprise, she shook Sam’s arm. “Hey, who were those guys? What were they doing to you?”
Sam was shuddering.
“Not now, Keely. Let’s just let Sam warm up a bit before we grill him.”
Sam managed to get his mouth working, but it was hard. “What’s your name, ma’am?”
“I’m Sheriff Benedict and that little girl next to you is my daughter, Keely. Did those men kidnap you?”
Sam managed to nod. He wasn’t going to cry. “I squeezed through a window and fell on my head. But I got away.”
“My goodness, you’re really brave, Sam. Now, let’s get you over to Doc Flint’s. Keely, you press close to Sam and try to get him warm.”
“I call him Doc Flintstone,” Keely said, watched her mom frown, then grab one of the towels to dry off the little boy’s head.
Sam said from behind the towel, “My mama used to give me Flintstones vitamins every morning with my toast.”
“I like marmalade on my toast. I don’t think smashed vitamins would taste very good.”
Sam thought that was funny, but he was just too cold and too scared to laugh. He burrowed under the blankets; all he wanted to do was get warm. He pressed himself as hard as he could against Sheriff Benedict’s leg. He felt the little girl squeezing against his back. He wondered if he was going to die now that he’d gotten away from those men. The little girl was pressed so hard against him, he’d bet she was going to get her clothes as wet as his.
Katie slid her rifle onto the floor behind the driver’s seat. She turned the heater on high. “Okay, kids, I cranked up the heat so it’ll be roasting you both in a minute. I know you’re wet clear through, Sam, but the blankets should help a little bit.”
“I don’t like marmalade,” Sam said as Katie looked at him closely.
“You’ll like my mom’s. It’s the best.” Good, the boy wasn’t in shock, at least not yet. Katie put the truck in gear and started up. She had to watch her speed; the heavy rain made the road a river. As they passed where the men had disappeared into the trees, she looked carefully, but saw no sign of them.
She picked her cell phone out of her breast pocket and called Wade at the station house.
“Hello, Wade, it’s Katie. No, don’t tell me anything about the storm just yet. This is urgent.” She told him about Sam and his kidnappers, the two men who’d been chasing him, and how she’d shot the fat one in the arm. “I’m on the south end of Delaware. Sam came out of the woods in nearly a straight line from the road to Bleaker’s cabin—I’ll bet that’s where they were holding him. They’re armed, they tried to kill me. Take three deputies and get out there fast.” She gave them descriptions, then said, one eye on Sam’s white face, the other on the woods, “I’m taking Sam to Doc Flint’s. I’m on my cell. Let me know what you find. Did you hear any names, Sam?”
“Fatso and Beau.” Just saying their names made Sam so afraid he had to concentrate not to pee again in his jeans.
“The one in the black leather coat is Beau, the other one is Fatso, that’s Sam’s name for him. Put out an APB on them, Wade. The one with the bullet in his arm—chances are he’ll need some medical attention. Maybe the other one, too. Alert all medical facilities in the area. I’ll tell Doc Flint. I’ll bet he’ll be putting in some calls himself. I’ll check in again after I make sure the boy’s all right.”
She looked one last time toward the woods. No sign of either man. She pressed harder on the gas. She couldn’t go any faster, it was just too dangerous. “Sam, you keep bundled up. Don’t worry about talking right now. Just get yourself warm, that’s right. You can tell me everything in a little while. Right now, you just think about how you saved yourself. My goodness, you’re a hero.”
Sam nodded. It made him feel woozy. A hero? He didn’t feel like much of a hero. His teeth were chattering and that made him feel like a baby. He hadn’t been a baby for longer than he could remember. And there was that little girl Keely pressed against him, two fat braids the color of wheat toast hanging over her shoulders, touching his face she was so close. He closed his eyes. He wasn’t about to cry in front of the little girl. He wanted his father.
It took them nearly twenty minutes to get to Doc Flint’s office in the rain. Katie kept talking to both children, keeping her voice calm and low, telling Sam about how the weather was going to be really bad until some time tomorrow, telling him how Keely was five, not as old as he was, and about how Keely could play “When You Wish Upon a Star” on the piano. Keely chimed in and told Sam she’d teach him how to play it, too, and the C scale.
Sam looked bad, Katie thought, worrying now as she pulled in front of the small Victorian house that stood at the corner of Pine and Maple, two blocks off Main Street. It was tall, skinny, and painted cream with dark blue trim. Jonah Flint lived upstairs and had his examination rooms and office downstairs. She said, “Keely, I want you to stay put until I get Sam into the office. Don’t move, don’t even think about moving. I’ll come back for you with the umbrella.”
She and Sam were already soaked, steam rising off their clothes because of the hot air gushing out of the truck heater. The little boy’s face was sheet-white and his dark pupils were dilated. There was blood oozing down his cheek from a cut on his head.
She eased him across the front seat, raised the umbrella, and whispered against his small ear, “Grab me around the neck, Sam, it’ll make it easier.” When she straightened, he wrapped his legs around her waist. “That’s good, Sam. Now, it’s going to be all right, I promise you. You’re with me now and I’m as tough as an old boot and meaner than my father, who was meaner than anybody before he died. You know something else, Sam? Since you’re a hero, I’m not the only one who’s really proud of you. Your folks will be proud, too. Don’t worry now, everything’s going to be all right.”
She kept talking, hoping she was distracting the boy as she carried him into the empty waiting room. Katie wasn’t surprised there wasn’t anybody there, not even Heidi Johns, Dr. Flint’s receptionist and nurse. Who would want to be out in weather like this except for Monroe Cuddy, who might have shot himself in the foot again, or Marilee Baskim, who was close to having a baby?
She called out, “Jonah!”
No answer. What if he wasn’t here? She didn’t want to take Sam to the emergency room.
“Jonah!”
5
Jonah Flint, just turned forty and very proud of his full head of blacker-than-sin hair, came running out of the back room, the stethoscope nearly falling out of the pocket of his white coat.
“Jesus, Katie, what’s going on? Who’s this?”
“This,” Katie said, carrying Sam into the first examination room, “is Sam and he just escaped kidnappers, believe it or not. There’s a cut on his head and I think he’s going into shock. I was afraid you weren’t here.”
“I was doing some research in the back. Now, let’s see what we’ve got here.” Dr. Flint smiled at the boy even as he peeled him off Katie and removed all the blankets, taking in all the signs and talking to Sam all the while.
“How do you feel, Sam?” He sat the boy on the edge of the examining table. “Do you take any medications? No?” He began to check him over. “Does your head hurt? I know the cut does, but do you have a headache? No, okay, that’s good. I’ll give you something to cut the pain. You got away from kidnappers? That’s something now, isn’t it? Okay, Sam, let me
get you out of those wet clothes. You can just call me Doc Flintstone, okay? That’s right, you help me. Now, do you hurt anywhere else? No? Good. Katie, you can step out, please, just men in here. You going to call the kid’s parents?”
Sam looked shell-shocked.
Katie said, “I’ll call his parents in just a bit, when you’re through examining him. First things first. He’s the most important thing right now.” She took one last long look at the little boy who’d run out of a wilderness of maples and oaks. She picked up the huge office umbrella, lots bigger than hers, and fetched Keely from the truck.
She sat Keely on a chair, handed her the huge black waiting room bear, and called Wade again. “What’s the word, Wade? You see anything out there?”
“Not yet. Where are you?”
“I’m in Jonah’s waiting room. He’s with Sam—that’s the little boy. I don’t know his last name yet. Making sure he’s okay is the first priority. I’ve got Keely with me, too. With the two kids, there was no way I could do anything but get out of there. Have you checked out the old Bleaker place yet? That’s bound to be where they were keeping him. It’s hidden and nobody can hear anything for all the trees.”
“I think so, too. Me and Jeffrey are out here on the road, and even with the fog and the rain, we found where the guys had come out of the woods. We found several shells, probably from your rifle. You also dropped a blanket. We’re fixing to go into the woods now.”
Katie wanted to be the one to go to the Bleaker cabin. It was tough, but there was just no way she could leave the kids, not yet. “Listen, Wade, you and Jeffrey be really careful. Anyone else with you? Good, glad that Conrad and Danny got there. Don’t forget, these guys are dangerous. If they’re still at the Bleaker cabin, it could get dicey. If they’re not there, I want you to secure the place. Be real careful not to destroy any possible evidence.”
Blindside Page 3