KnockOut

KnockOut Read Free Page B

Book: KnockOut Read Free
Author: Catherine Coulter
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in front of the bank, and there you were. I think you’re rich, Dillon, real rich.
    No, I’m not rich.
    You’re inside-rich and you’re wide open, at least tonight you are. Mama’s afraid, she’s always afraid; well, I’m afraid too, since I’m the one who saw them. Mama said we have to hide real good or they’ll find us. She jumps out of her skin whenever anybody comes close. I do too. They’re real scary, Dillon. I told her I’d ask you what to do. Mama started to shake her head at me like she always used to do, then she didn’t.
    I told her I might know if they get close, and I think she believes me. I don’t believe me, though. I’m just not sure about anything now. Everything’s so scary after Bricker’s Bowl.
    Your mama’s afraid of something you saw? What did you see, Autumn?
    I can’t, I can’t— Fear knifed through her voice. He was afraid she’d hyperventilate.
    Autumn, it’s okay. No, don’t fade out. Stay with me. Can you tell me where you are?
    Mama says it’s hard to hide because of the Internet, but I don’t think Blessed needs the Internet. She says that’s why we’re in the boondocks. It’s nowhere, she says, and maybe they won’t find us here, maybe even Blessed won’t find us here. It’s real pretty, lots of trees, and the mountains are everywhere, all around you, and they go on forever, but today was real hot. She hopes Uncle Tollie can help us, but he isn’t home yet, so we’re waiting for him. He knows people like you, that’s what Mama says.
    Can you tell me who’s trying to find you, Autumn? This man named Blessed? Is he from Bricker’s Bowl?
    Yes, his name’s Blessed. It’s a neat name, but he’s creepy. Mama says that’s because of what he’s like. I think that house in Bricker’s Bowl is creepier. That’s where they buried—no, Mama said I can’t ever ever tell because it sounds too crazy and nobody would believe us. At least we have some money. Mama found it in Daddy’s safe deposit box. It’s not just Blessed, Dillon, it’s all of them. What do you think we should do?
    First, tell me where you are. What’s your last name?
    Her small face blurred. I can’t—
    Yes, you can. Autumn! No, wait—
    He heard a distant echo of her voice, as if she were calling him from inside a well. I can’t see you!
    It’s all right. Just relax and try again.
    Her voice was more distant now, only a whisper, her face a blur. I’ll try to call again so you can tell me what to do.
    But who are you? Where are you?
    The little girl was gone, like someone flipped a switch. Where there had been bright color and light and a child so close he could touch her, there was now only empty blackness and his racing thoughts. Savich kept calling to her, but she was gone. It was evidently only a one-way circuit. She hadn’t connected psychically with anyone except her father, now dead, so she would have to learn to control the psychic communication with him. Autumn and her mother were in big trouble, and here he was helpless, since he had no clue who she was or where she was.
    Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Her name was Autumn and she was in the mountains, probably in the Appalachians, he hoped close by, maybe somewhere in Virginia. Tomorrow he’d make some calls to police chiefs and sheriffs he knew throughout the state, have them call others. She and her mom were new to town. That would help. Uncle Tollie? He’d throw his name in the computer, see what popped up. Retired? What was his real name? Surely not Tollie. He sighed, closed his eyes, and tried once again to call her.
    No answer. No flicker of an image.
    He lay there, arms crossed behind his head, staring up at the dark ceiling. Did Autumn’s mother really accept that she had this amazing gift?
    Sherlock’s sleepy voice sounded against his neck. “Dillon? Why are you awake?”
    He settled her face against his shoulder, kissed her nose. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I’ll tell you in the morning.”

3
    TITUSVILLE,

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