Blow Out
Page 33
“I’ll give you the assignments, don’t worry.”
“Oh, by the way, Savich, I meant to ask you. How is Sheriff Kettering doing?”
Savich gave him a big smile. “That’s how we met, isn’t it? They’ve moved back to Jessborough, Tennessee. Miles is building a new helicopter facility there, and Katie’s the sheriff of Jessborough again.”
Ben shook his head. “Talk about a pistol, that sheriff sure qualifies.”
“Do keep our own pistol in the loop. I don’t want Callie calling me at midnight, frothing at the mouth. And thank her for the information about Justice Wallace. It sure opens up some interesting possibilities.”
“Yeah, it sure does. Did I remember to thank you for sticking me with her?”
“No, come to think of it, I don’t think you thanked me at all. There’s a couple of slices of vegetarian pizza left. Why don’t you tell me all the details of your interview with Justice and Mrs. Wallace while we chow down.”
CHAPTER 11
SHE RAN RIGHT in front of him, her long straight hair flying, frantically waving her arms, her eyes wild. He could tell she was yelling, but he couldn’t hear her voice even though she was right in front of him, yelling in his face. She was close, so close, and he could feel her terror as though it were his own.
And then he was in that lovely big house on the rise, all the lights on, looking back to see her sitting on the living room sofa, rocking back and forth, her thick veil of hair hiding her profile, the fire blazing behind her in the fireplace. He looked up at the ceiling when he heard a noise, the sound of quiet footsteps overhead.
Then he was climbing slowly up the ladder into the attic, every sense on full alert, but there wasn’t a man there. Something flew at him, hard and fast, swooping like a bat, or something else, something his brain couldn’t accept, and slammed him back through the ceiling door, knocking the breath out of him.
Savich jerked awake, wheezing, heart pounding so hard he thought he was dying. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but sit there trying to suck in air.
“Dillon? Are you all right? You’re here with me. It’s okay now, you were having a nightmare.”
He still couldn’t talk. He felt her hands rubbing his chest, his arms. “Samantha Barrister,” he managed at last. “I saw her, felt her right here, in my face. And then I was back in the house, going up those ladder steps after I heard the footsteps overhead. That bat, or whatever it was, knocked me back down to the corridor floor.”
“It’s all right now, you’re awake. Come here.” She pushed him back down, her palm rubbed over his chest, felt his pounding heart. She turned and pressed herself over him, kissed his neck, and whispered, “It will be all right. You probably had the nightmare because you can’t deal with Samantha’s murder right now. What happened to Samantha was thirty years ago, Dillon. It has to wait. Let it go for now.” She continued to rub her palm over his chest until she felt his heart slow and his breathing steady.
“I saw her in the road, Sherlock, saw her terror, I knew she was screaming, but I couldn’t hear her. Then she was right here, probably yelling for me to help her to stop him, only I couldn’t hear her.”
Sherlock was silent for a moment. He could practically hear her thinking. “Perhaps she was, for you. I said it had been thirty years, but the fact is, Samantha came to you—just you—in the Poconos. Maybe something’s happened to make her frantic, to make her come here to Washington. Something bad.”
“What could it be? Now, after thirty years? And what can I do about it? I can’t leave Washington and go ghost chasing right now.”
She kissed his nose, his mouth, his throat. “We could call the closest field office to do some checking.”
He thought about that a moment, then shook his head. “No, this is personal. I want to deal with it, I have to deal with it, no one else. I know it sounds weird, but I know she wants me to be the one.”
“All right then. When MAX is freed up, we can put him on it. He can scour databases, find out about the Barrister family, see what happened to her son and her husband.”
“But it’s going to be days before we can free MAX up to do that.”
“I know, but I think Samantha will understand.”
She felt a measure of calm flow through him. He turned on his side and drew her close. He said against her left temple, “Do you know something?”
She shook her head against his. Her curly hair brushed against his ear.
“Some people would think I’ve flipped out over this, want me to lie down on a shrink’s couch.”
“Oh, by the way, Savich, I meant to ask you. How is Sheriff Kettering doing?”
Savich gave him a big smile. “That’s how we met, isn’t it? They’ve moved back to Jessborough, Tennessee. Miles is building a new helicopter facility there, and Katie’s the sheriff of Jessborough again.”
Ben shook his head. “Talk about a pistol, that sheriff sure qualifies.”
“Do keep our own pistol in the loop. I don’t want Callie calling me at midnight, frothing at the mouth. And thank her for the information about Justice Wallace. It sure opens up some interesting possibilities.”
“Yeah, it sure does. Did I remember to thank you for sticking me with her?”
“No, come to think of it, I don’t think you thanked me at all. There’s a couple of slices of vegetarian pizza left. Why don’t you tell me all the details of your interview with Justice and Mrs. Wallace while we chow down.”
CHAPTER 11
SHE RAN RIGHT in front of him, her long straight hair flying, frantically waving her arms, her eyes wild. He could tell she was yelling, but he couldn’t hear her voice even though she was right in front of him, yelling in his face. She was close, so close, and he could feel her terror as though it were his own.
And then he was in that lovely big house on the rise, all the lights on, looking back to see her sitting on the living room sofa, rocking back and forth, her thick veil of hair hiding her profile, the fire blazing behind her in the fireplace. He looked up at the ceiling when he heard a noise, the sound of quiet footsteps overhead.
Then he was climbing slowly up the ladder into the attic, every sense on full alert, but there wasn’t a man there. Something flew at him, hard and fast, swooping like a bat, or something else, something his brain couldn’t accept, and slammed him back through the ceiling door, knocking the breath out of him.
Savich jerked awake, wheezing, heart pounding so hard he thought he was dying. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but sit there trying to suck in air.
“Dillon? Are you all right? You’re here with me. It’s okay now, you were having a nightmare.”
He still couldn’t talk. He felt her hands rubbing his chest, his arms. “Samantha Barrister,” he managed at last. “I saw her, felt her right here, in my face. And then I was back in the house, going up those ladder steps after I heard the footsteps overhead. That bat, or whatever it was, knocked me back down to the corridor floor.”
“It’s all right now, you’re awake. Come here.” She pushed him back down, her palm rubbed over his chest, felt his pounding heart. She turned and pressed herself over him, kissed his neck, and whispered, “It will be all right. You probably had the nightmare because you can’t deal with Samantha’s murder right now. What happened to Samantha was thirty years ago, Dillon. It has to wait. Let it go for now.” She continued to rub her palm over his chest until she felt his heart slow and his breathing steady.
“I saw her in the road, Sherlock, saw her terror, I knew she was screaming, but I couldn’t hear her. Then she was right here, probably yelling for me to help her to stop him, only I couldn’t hear her.”
Sherlock was silent for a moment. He could practically hear her thinking. “Perhaps she was, for you. I said it had been thirty years, but the fact is, Samantha came to you—just you—in the Poconos. Maybe something’s happened to make her frantic, to make her come here to Washington. Something bad.”
“What could it be? Now, after thirty years? And what can I do about it? I can’t leave Washington and go ghost chasing right now.”
She kissed his nose, his mouth, his throat. “We could call the closest field office to do some checking.”
He thought about that a moment, then shook his head. “No, this is personal. I want to deal with it, I have to deal with it, no one else. I know it sounds weird, but I know she wants me to be the one.”
“All right then. When MAX is freed up, we can put him on it. He can scour databases, find out about the Barrister family, see what happened to her son and her husband.”
“But it’s going to be days before we can free MAX up to do that.”
“I know, but I think Samantha will understand.”
She felt a measure of calm flow through him. He turned on his side and drew her close. He said against her left temple, “Do you know something?”
She shook her head against his. Her curly hair brushed against his ear.
“Some people would think I’ve flipped out over this, want me to lie down on a shrink’s couch.”
