Read Online The Blood of Patriots by William W. Johnstone - Free Book Online Page B

“We’ve got a lot of guys in town who are five-nine or -ten, but it’s a start. Thanks.”
    â€œWhile you’re looking, keep an eye out for clean boots,” Ward suggested. “Those ATVs kicked up a lot of dust. The perps would want to brush off the evidence.”
    â€œOr change their shoes,” the chief said.
    â€œNot likely,” Ward said.
    â€œOh?”
    â€œShorter guy would like the big heels,” Ward told her.
    She grinned. “Need a job?”
    Hawks, who was in the barn taking pictures, looked back like a kid who was no longer hall monitor.
    â€œI am currently unemployed,” Ward admitted, “but I’m not sure my references would pass muster.”
    â€œI’m not sure I’d care,” Brennan smiled. She looked at Randolph and her smile faded. He wavered a little and she took his elbow in her hand to support him. “Time we got you to the hospital. We need X-rays for the file and you need medical attention. I didn’t overrule you on the EMS, but you are gonna ride with the seat down.”
    The farmer nodded weakly. The shock had propped him up. Now that it was passing, it was as though his will had been sapped. Ward noticed that his knees were shaking and his shoulders had drooped. For a moment it looked as though he would fall forward. Ward put the flashlight down and jumped over to assist. They each took an arm and walked him to her car.
    Randolph leaned against the hood as she lowered the seat. “I’m taking him to Mid Valley if you want to check on him.” She leaned nearer. “He won’t be coming home tonight.”
    â€œGotcha,” Ward said. He helped her put Randolph in the passenger’s seat.
    â€œI’m sorry to be trouble,” Randolph said. He was wincing now, chronically. The short walk to the car had taxed him more than he’d admit.
    â€œYou can make it up to us when you’re better,” Ward said as they shut the door.
    â€œI’ll call when I’m leaving the hospital,” she told Officer Hawks as she ran around to the driver’s side.
    Ward watched until the car was out of sight. Then he picked up the flashlight and went back to his car. Hawks continued taking pictures, looking over frowningly as the Prius pulled away. Ward didn’t take it personally. The kid felt threatened. He’d get over it. Ward didn’t think Brennan’s offer was sincere. Whatever she thought about what had happened in New York, it was just her way of extending support to a fellow officer who had taken flak in the line of duty.
    Ward drove to the road and parked, leaving the headlights on. He got out and walked slowly along the middle of the road. He was scanning the rocky soil just beyond the asphalt curb that ran along the side. After a few minutes he found what he was looking for. He took several pictures with his cell phone.
    When he was finished he drove back to the inn, confident now that he’d be able to sleep. Before turning out the light he called the hospital to check on Randolph. The nurse said she was only permitted to give information to family, but did say he was “resting very comfortably” so she could not put the call through. Ward thanked her for that.
    Within minutes he, too, was resting very comfortably.

C HAPTER T EN
    It wasn’t a long sleep, but it was the first restful night Ward had enjoyed in awhile.
    The alarm went off at 6:15 and, before showering, Ward called over to the diner to make sure his take-out breakfast would be waiting. Half an hour later he plopped the bag on his seat, his cell beside it, and was on Ridge Road a half-hour after that, in plenty of time to pick up his daughter. There was no point calling the hospital again; he would stop by after breakfast.
    Ward cranked down the windows as he drove. It was cold, but the air had an invigorating quality that chased away lingering sleep. As he climbed the road, his eyes were drawn to the