The Harker Files by Marc Olden

Author:Marc Olden
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781504057158
Publisher: MysteriousPress.com/Open Road
Published: 2018-10-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

BLAISDEL. WEARING A FADED red robe and beat-up brown carpet slippers, his heels crushing down the backs.

He bent down to finger the wet mud from my tracks. His eyes followed the mud along the hallway and into Vale’s office. I was hiding there, peeking at him from behind the door, holding my breath, and wondering why I hadn’t vacuumed behind me. Nothing between me and that little fuck Blaisdel except mud. That’s all. Now all he had to do was yell, and my ass would be grass. Damn!

Getting into the house had been easy. Through the front door and down the hall to Vale’s office. Nobody had seen me in my poncho, and if they had, they wouldn’t have cared. They had other things to worry about. A burning barn, cold heavy rain, and horses and dogs that bit and kicked when you tried to save their lives. No guards around the house, either. That had just been for my benefit. Besides, Lionel wasn’t the adventurous kind. He was a deserter. A runner, not a fighter.

So getting in the house had been easy. But getting out was going to be hard. Because of Blaisdel.

Two minutes ago I’d been reaching for the front doorknob, on my way out. That’s when somebody had banged on the door, shouting like crazy, scaring the hell out of me, because all I could think was: They know I’m out, they’re coming to get my ass. Back I’d rushed into Vale’s office, slipping behind the door, afraid to shut it. Noise was the last thing I needed.

Blaisdel. At the top of the stairs, rubbing sleep from his eyes, yelling down, “Yeah, yeah, I’m comin’. Better be important.” A woman, maybe his, maybe somebody else’s, said something I couldn’t hear. Blaisdel told her to shut the hell up. Stop bothering him. Next, Blaisdel’s downstairs, switching on a hall light, then opening the front door.

I wasn’t the topic of conversation. The burning barn was.

Blaisdel had been annoyed. He snapped at the man, “Ain’t my business to handle horses or piss on fires. You just make sure those fucking guard dogs don’t get fried. Get your ass movin’.” The man moved. Blaisdel slammed the front door, turned, and came closer. I peeked from behind the office door. That’s when he’d stopped and I’d held my breath. The little crew-cut bastard was staring down at the floor. Oh, shit. My muddy footprints. He frowned at them, tilted his head to one side, narrowed his eyes, then bent down to finger the stuff.

He stood up, his eyes following my muddy trail to Vale’s office. Rolling mud between his fingers, Blaisdel came toward me, and I slipped closer toward cardiac arrest He was an ex-cop, and not all that stupid, but I wished he’d be observant with someone else. Time for me to worry. I began doing that immediately.

I was in the room to raid the wastebasket, to get my hands on those papers Captain Webb Mapes had thrown away because of coffee stains.

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