Blindside

“Okay, Li

“Papa, you’re going to leave us?”

He said simply, “I have to help Katie. Okay?”

“Don’t let those bad men hurt my mama,” Keely said, and burst into tears.

“I won’t let anyone hurt your mama, Keely. I promise,” Miles said as he stood up. “You guys, stay with Li

He mouthed a thank you to Li

“Wait, Mr. Kettering!” She tossed him a cell phone. “Use it. Call us whenever you can, right, Sam?”

“Call me, Papa.”

“You got it, kid.”

“I’ll hug Keely,” Sam said. “She’s scared.” Miles watched his son pull Keely close and pat her back.

As Miles drove back through the heavy cold rain, the driver’s window cracked down, he could still hear sirens. He saw the glow of the flames from a mile away. With the heavy rainfall, at least the trees were protected. He pulled the truck up behind one of the deputy’s cars and jumped out.

The firemen were hosing down the roof of the house, but even with the heavy rain there was no hope. Katie’s house was gutted, and everything in it gone.

Miles threw back his head and yelled, “Katie!”

One of the deputies came ru

“They’re with Li

“I think she’s still in the back.”

Miles said, “They shot at the sheriff’s truck. You’ll probably be able to dig out the bullets, identify them. Are you sure Katie’s okay?”

“I heard her yelling,” the deputy said. “When she yells like that, she’s okay, just real mad.”

Miles nodded and ran to the back of the burning house, rain blurring his vision. He swiped his hand over his eyes, and shouted, “Katie!”

“I’m here.”

He nearly ran right into her. She was leaning against a sugar maple, tying something around her hand.

“Dammit, you hurt yourself,” he said, then pulled her tight against him, unable to help himself, he was so afraid.

“Nothing bad, I promise,” she said, and pulled back to give him the ghost of a smile. “A flying spark burned my hand. It’s not bad. The guys who bombed my house are long gone. Wade and the other deputies haven’t found anything yet.”

“Both of us know where they went,” he said. “First, let’s get your hand bandaged a bit better. I saw the paramedics out front.”

Ten minutes later they were in Katie’s truck, Miles driving, headed for the McCamy house.

Katie turned back to look at the devastation of her house. “Gone,” she said. “Everything’s gone, including all my pictures of Keely and even her chess set.”

“We’re alive and that’s all that matters. And you’ve got your hat.”

She was wet and dirty, her hair straggling down beneath her beautiful cream-colored straw hat, her hand hurt, but she managed a smile. “Yes, and now I want to face down the monsters who have tried to wreck our lives.” She drew her ankle gun and handed it to him. Driving with one hand, he shoved it into the waistband of his jeans.

As he leaned forward to wipe his hand across the fog building up on the windshield, Miles said, “The rain is finally letting up a bit.”

Katie said, “It’s nearly four o’clock in the morning. Do you think the McCamys will pretend they were sleeping?”

He just shook his head, concentrating on not sliding off the road. “Unless we get lucky, and these guys have gone back to the McCamy house, I don’t know what we’re going to accomplish tonight.”

Katie said slowly, “I’ve got an idea on how to get us through the front door.”

Miles raised an eyebrow, but when she shook her head, he said, “Who have you called for backup?”

Again, she didn’t answer. Her hand was throbbing bad now, she was sick to her stomach about her house and so mad she wanted to spit nails. Did she want backup? Sure, you always had backup, always. She just couldn’t believe that she hadn’t been the one to think of it.

She blew out her breath and dialed 911. “Li

“They’re locked in a cell with Mort, the cleaning guy.” There was a pause, and Li

“Thank you so much for coming in, Li

Miles was hunched over the steering wheel, trying to see through the rain and the fogged windshield. “He wants Sam beyond reason or else he would have given it up. This has nothing to do with money, this has to do with a madman, and what a madman believes.”

That sounded simple, and exactly right, Katie thought. She said, “He must be well over the edge now, surely what happened tonight proves it. I wonder who he found to do this on such short notice. It’s got to be someone local, maybe someone from his congregation.”

“I wonder if there were two guys or just one. The ability to talk just one member into doing something this crazy, much less two guys, boggles the mind. You said he was charismatic. I guess this proves it.”

“When you put it like that, I guess one guy makes more sense. Still, we’ve got to be really careful.”

Katie rolled down the window and stuck her hand out. “It’s not raining as hard.”

“Your hand okay?”

She didn’t answer, just pointed to the big Victorian house that had just come into view. “We’re not leaving without answers this time, Miles.”

32

T he only sound they heard when they got out of the truck was the rain and the rustling of wet leaves. It was cold and there was no moon, not a single star, just fat bloated clouds, probably gathering energy for another deluge. There were no lights on in the big Victorian house.

They were wet. Katie’s hat was still clamped down on her head, her hair coming out of its French braid, the white bandage on her hand soaked with rain. She could feel her boots squish as she walked.

Katie rang the doorbell, such a mundane thing. There was no answer. She rang it again, then once more. She was smiling, as grim as Jesse Helms if he’d been a judge. Finally, she slammed her fist against the large wooden door.

She kept pounding until, at last, Reverend McCamy’s angry voice shouted, “Who is this? What is going on here? Go away!”

The door jerked open. Reverend McCamy, dressed in pajamas, dressing gown, and bedroom slippers, stood there, his face a study of anger and something else, something that was beyond what they could begin to understand.

“Who is it, Reverend McCamy?”

They heard the light sound of footfalls coming down the stairs. Elsbeth McCamy came to stand beside her husband, staring at them.

She was wearing a pink silk robe that came only to her knees; it was obvious she was wearing absolutely nothing underneath. Her feet were bare. Her hair was tousled around her face and tangled down her back, and for once, she wasn’t wearing her earrings.

Reverend McCamy, his dark eyes fathomless and sharp, raised his hands to his hips, and stared at them. They stared back. Finally, he said slowly, “What is the meaning of this, Sheriff? Do you have any idea at all what time it is?”