Blindside (32 page)

Sherlock raised her face to the sun that was bright and warm. A crisp breeze rustled through the nearly naked tree branches, ruffled her hair. Winter was lurking just around the corner, but not today. “Thank God, all that interminable rain has stopped. I swear I was starting to grow mold. At least we’ve got a couple of beautiful days before that snowstorm hits on Monday.”

“Mom says it’s finally stopped raining in Jessborough. Everything is still soggy, but things are getting back to normal. Do you know what she sent me for a wedding present?”

“A whip?”

To Sherlock’s surprise, Katie looked like she would burst into tears. “What is it, Katie? What did she send you?”

Katie wiped her hand across her eyes, and shook her head. “I didn’t mean to lose it like that. What you said about the whip—that’s funny, but it’s just that every time I think about it, how much it means to me and how she knew how much it means. She sent me copies of all her family photos, put them in three big albums. You know I lost everything when the house burned down. But now I have Keely’s first five years again.”

“Oh my, that was nice of her. Your mom is the greatest, Katie. Sam’s a lucky little boy to have such a wonderful grandmother. You said you guys are going back to Jessborough for Christmas? And there’ll be a religious ceremony this time for your mom and all your friends?”

Katie nodded. “She didn’t want to come here right away. She wanted to give the four of us time to get settled in with each other.” Katie sucked in a deep breath. “You know, Sherlock, it just doesn’t smell like eastern Tennessee here.”

“No,” Sherlock said. “Here, there’s always the underlying scent of car exhaust.”

“No, it’s more than that.”

“Okay, there’s also the scent of politicians, and that’s worse than car exhaust. But you know, springtime in Washington is really beautiful, if you just forget politics.”

Katie laughed, but to Sherlock’s keen ears, it was forced. She said, “Miles mentioned yesterday that as soon as Savich was up for it, they were going to work out together.”

Sherlock said, “That’ll end up in lots of insults and bruises. I hope you’re good with the Ben-Gay tube.”

“Oh yeah, I am. I told Miles you’d take on the winner.”

Sherlock looked very pleased at that. “You’ve been married thirteen days, Katie, which means that you and Miles have known each other for, wow, a grand total of three weeks. Now, how are things going between you?”

Katie arched an eyebrow. “I don’t sleep in the guest room, if that’s what you mean.”

“Well, no, I would certainly hope that you don’t. As I told Dillon, Miles is not only a really good guy, he has this marvelous flat stomach.”

“So he does.”

“And who could turn that down?”

“Not I. And I’ll tell you something else, Sherlock, Miles is also the sexiest guy on earth.”

Sherlock was too kind to point out the obvious, that Katie was wrong, dead wrong—Dillon was the sexiest guy, period. Anywhere. Maybe she would tell Katie when she knew her better. Sherlock said, her brow furrowed, “I would think that intimacy between two people who really like each other, who are committed to each other and to a family, well, it would help move things more quickly, take away the artificialness of the situation. Hey, you see a guy in his boxers, whiskers on his face, and the embarrassment factor goes down fast.”

“It’s still tough, both of us dancing around, afraid to hurt the other’s feelings or piss the other off or do something that might upset one of the kids.”

“And Sam and Keely are settling in together? Or is there a problem?”

“There are kid squabbles, but yeah, they’re incredible together. Just this morning, both of them came bouncing in on our bed at six a.m. It felt . . . good. Sometimes I wonder how Keely could not have known Sam all her life. They’re very close. As for Cracker, I haven’t a clue what’s going on in her head. She leaves us alone for the most part, spends lots of time in her attic suite, or is out with friends for the evenings, movies, I think. She’s pleasant enough when we cross paths. I really hope she’ll start dating, if she’s not already.”

Sherlock picked a twig off a maple tree and chewed on it. “She wanted to marry Miles, you know.”

“I figured that. Still, she’s trying to be nice to me. Talk about a shock for her.”

“The thing is that after her sister died, she moved in to take care of Sam, which was a great thing for her to do. Both Sam and Miles were devastated and she provided stability. But it’s been over two years now and you’re here. It’s time for her to get her own life.”

“And find a good guy that isn’t Miles.”

“All right, Katie. What’s really wrong?”

“If you want the truth, well then, I’m itchy, restless. The first week, I walked every inch of that very lovely house, raked leaves until I had blisters on my palms, spoke to my mom twice a day, played with the kids until I was too tired to stand. Then this last week . . . okay, I whined, not to Miles, to Dr. Raines—my good friend Sheila—in Jessborough. She can take it. She told me lots of things that just depressed me more. She just ended up telling me to be patient, that it’ll take time to settle in, and metaphorically patted me on the head.

“As you know, I’m on a leave of absence from the Jessborough Sheriff’s Department. And that puts Wade temporarily in charge, and that’s okay, don’t get me wrong, but—” Katie shrugged, sighed, and continued after clearing her throat once, then again. “Sorry. Of course, both kids started back to school a week and a half ago. Sam was a hero to his classmates. Unfortunately, Keely’s a year behind Sam, but she appears to be doing okay. She misses her friends in Jessborough, but she has Sam and that makes up for it. Sam’s included her with all his friends, and since he’s the big dog among the first-graders, she’s in. It’s still early, we’ll see. That leaves lots of hours in-between to fill up, hours I never before even dreamed existed.”

“Katie—”

“Okay, okay, don’t hit me. Here’s the bottom line for me, Sherlock: I’ve got to do something real, something worthwhile—”

Yeah, like be sheriff again.
Sherlock said, “I understand, truly I do. Give it just a little more time, just like Dr. Raines said. Talk to Miles about it—he’s your husband now, Katie, and that means you’re not alone anymore. You’ve got this big additional brain to add to the mix, and that’s good, at least part of the time.”

“Now you’re going to preach to me about compromise.”

“Fact is, you’ve got to compromise to have a good marriage, and sometimes that’s so sucky I want to yell.”

“Yeah, yeah. All right, I’ll talk to him about it, but not yet. He’s working really hard right now.”

Sherlock nodded. “Tell me what else Dr. Raines said.”

“Wade is doing fine as acting sheriff. She says everyone misses me and asks when I’m coming back. All I can say is ‘ We’ll see.’ ”

Katie started shaking her head. “I was even studying a cookbook yesterday.” She sighed. “It’s so stupid really, but I never thought about what would happen two weeks after we got married, or a month, or a year, or anything. It was just the right thing to do and I didn’t consider, you know, what exactly would come after the wedding. I never once wondered how it would be not to have the sheriff’s job, to be living in a place I didn’t know, not the streets, not the shops, not the people.

“Sorry, I’m whining again. Damn, sometimes it’s really hard to be an adult.”

“That’s the truth,” Sherlock said. “No honeymoon in sight?”

“Miles has been working his butt off at the plant. He says there’s lots to be done, what with contract issues still unresolved, design problems with the helicopter guidance system, stuff like that. He’s missed dinner three times this past week.”

“Hmm,” Sherlock said again. “Katie, you guys are going to have to talk about this, you know. Oh, quick, look at that Frisbee throw Miles just made to Sam.”

Katie twisted about to see the Frisbee floating toward Sam, watched Sam leap a good foot into the air and snag it. She heard Miles and Dillon laugh. She wondered what they were talking about. Was Miles talking about her to Dillon? Saying the same things about his life that she’d been saying to Sherlock?

Savich was saying to Miles as they both watched Sam leap into the air and curl his fingers around the edge of the Frisbee to bring it in, “I’ve just about given up on the Redskins this year.”

Miles said, “Yeah, it’s hard to even turn the games on anymore, it’s so depressing. I have this gut feeling about the Raiders, though, we’ll see. Wasn’t that catch something? Sam’s nearly Olympic with the Frisbee. I’ve been playing with him since he was three.”

“I thought I’d start Sean in six months or so. I’m also thinking the Patriots might make it to the big game. Does Katie like football?”

“You know, I don’t have the foggiest idea what my wife thinks about football. That first Sunday we just relaxed, what with no Beau or Clancy to worry about, took the kids for pizza and ice cream and fell into bed at nine o’clock. We’ll see if she perks up at kick-off time tomorrow.”

“Hey, Sean, come back here!”

Savich was off, scooping up his son, swinging him over his head, letting his shrieks of laughter flow over him.

Miles said to Savich once he’d trotted back, Sean under one arm, “I sure like the sound of your Porsche engine. You get it tuned up recently?”

“Oh yeah. God’s creation gets checked if it hiccups once. Sounds really good, huh?”

“You know it does. Sherlock was telling me that Sean loves that car, that you’ve promised to give it to him when he’s eighteen.”

“Yep, I did.”

“By that time the Porsche will be in a museum.”

Savich grinned. “How about that? Hey, all you’ve got left from McCamy is just a faint line down your cheek. It looks like it just might stay with you.”

Miles touched his face. “A good thing. It’ll fit my image.”

Savich smiled. “How’s Cracker dealing with your marriage?”

“Oh, she’s fine with it. She’s always a brick. No problem at all.”

Savich wondered if Miles really didn’t have a clue as to his sister-in-law’s feelings for him, or if he was just in denial. He sincerely doubted that Cracker was a happy camper with another woman in the house and this one Miles’s wife.

Suddenly, they heard a shot, sharp and clear in the still air, not at all close. It was up ahead, near Katie and Sherlock.

For a brief instant they both froze, then Miles whirled about. “Oh, damn! What’s happening?”

Savich yelled, “Sherlock, Katie, gunfire! Hurry, get down!”

“Savich, get Sean behind that tree! I’ll get the kids!”

There were two more shots in rapid succession, closer to them.

Savich would swear that he felt the heat of that second bullet as it tunneled past his head before he dropped to his knees behind a huge oak tree, Sean clutched against his chest. Sean was crying and his father was shaking so badly he couldn’t do anything except rock his boy, holding him close, trying to cover every bit of him with his body.

He saw Sherlock crouched down behind a square garbage receptacle some thirty feet beyond them, looking all around, waiting. Katie was on her hands and knees, her cell phone out.

He heard a car door slam, but couldn’t see where. He whispered nonsense to Sean, heard his boy sob, felt his small body heave, pressed very tightly against his father’s body.

God, that bastard could have shot his son. He called out, “Miles?”

Miles’s voice was out of breath. “I’ve got Keely and Sam. We’re down, about twelve feet behind you. Is Sean all right?”

“Yes, just scared to his bones, like I am.”

Savich heard voices, lots of them, some screams. Not all that many people in the park, thank God, but enough.

Savich was sitting on the ground, his back against the oak tree, rocking Sean back and forth in his arms, holding him as close as he could.

Not thirty seconds later, Sherlock was in his arms, Sean sandwiched between them, and she was whispering against his chin, “Thank God you’re all right.”

“I’m fine, sweetheart.” He sounded all calm again, but he didn’t let her go.

Savich heard Katie say, even as she clutched Keely tightly against her, “Hey, Sam, that was the sort of excitement I’d hoped we’d seen the last of in Jessborough, wasn’t it? Did you dive behind a garbage can?”

“There sure are lots of bad guys, Katie,” said Sam, who was plastered against his father’s side, and blinked at her. He shook his head, “There wasn’t a garbage can close. Papa grabbed up me and Keely. We were over behind that big tree.” He paused a moment, his forehead wrinkled. “Who’s after me this time?”

“Someone who heard you were bad,” Keely said, and, bless her heart, she reached out and punched him.

“Sam, I don’t think anyone was after you this time,” Miles said. “You guys okay? Really?”

“You promise, Papa?” said Sam.

Smiling, Miles picked both of them up, then reached out his hand to Katie. Like Sherlock and Savich, they stood close for a very long time, at least until their hearts slowed.

Katie said, “I called nine-one-one. They’ll be here any minute now.”

Sherlock said, “I spotted a late-model white Camry screech out of here. I got four numbers off the license plate: WT twenty-seven—that’s it.”

Miles and Savich looked at each other. Savich said, “Looks like the women took care of things.”

As for Katie, she needed to get to a bathroom, fast.

Nearly three hours later Katie and Miles tucked the kids into their beds. It was only seven o’clock at night, but both Sam and Keely had just folded down, an adrenaline crash.

As they walked back down the long corridor to their bedroom, Miles said, “They’re out like lights, thank God. Amazing.”

“Yeah. Keely was gone before I read the first page of her story. She only talked a little bit about the shooting in the park.”

“Same with Sam, thank God. Did you see Sean fall asleep in his father’s arms? A good thing, since Savich wasn’t about to let him go. And the worry in Sherlock’s face, damn, this isn’t good. Why did this happen? For God’s sake, we were in the park with the children.”

“Miles—”

“Dear God, I know the kids seem okay right now, but what about tomorrow, the next day? I think it’s smart to use a real light touch, making it all seem like an adventure, getting the spotlight off Sam. I sure hope it works. Sam didn’t act like he was freaked out again, not like he was in Jessborough. And Keely seemed all right, too.” He shuddered. “Somebody after Savich or Sherlock, I guess.” He began emptying his pants pockets on the dresser top. “Since they weren’t after Sam, it’s just got to shove away at least some of the fear, don’t you think?”