Blown Away Read Online Free PDF Page B

leaped the ditch in one graceful bound, drawing admiring whistles from a knot of deputies, along with a hammy drawl from a fat, crew-cutted sergeant. “Hey, honey, I’ll jump in yer ditch anytime!”
    Emily turned. If it had just been the whistles, she would have curtsied, been a good sport. “Jump in yer ditch” was obscene, and she couldn’t let it pass. She raised her middle finger and growled just loud enough for them to hear, “Jump this, Doughboy.”
    The sergeant’s eyebrows knitted as his pals hooted with laughter. “No call to talk like that,” he said, forcing a smile. “I was kiddin’ around.”
    That was a crock, she knew, but there was little to gain from dragging this out. “Fine, Sergeant,” she said. “Apology accepted.”
    That he didn’t like. He worked his jaw like he wanted to take it to the next level, but nothing happened. She shrugged, started to walk away.
    â€œCunt,” he spat at her back.
    â€œWhat did you call me?” Emily demanded, whirling. The last person to throw that vile slur at her had ended up on the pea gravel behind St. Mary’s Elementary with a split lip and two black eyes. The nuns were sympathetic—“nice uppercut, dear,” Sister Bethany had whispered as she hauled insult slinger Brady Kepp away for iodine and bandages—but the principal suspended her the rest of the week for fighting. Mama canceled the Saturday night family game festival as punishment. “Violence never settles anything, Emily Marie, and you need to learn that,” she lectured as Daddy peeked over the Chicago Daily News, with a small, proud grin. Emily had no regrets. No one called her names again.
    Still no reply from the sergeant. “What did you call me?” Emily repeated.
    â€œNothing, missy,” he said, all innocence. “Didn’t say a thing, did I, boys?”
    The deputies shook their heads. But they didn’t grin back, either. It told her they weren’t happy with what he was doing but wouldn’t interfere. Tribal law. She was on her own.
    â€œGol-ly, Sarge, you’re not afraid of a girl, are you?” Emily jeered, striding to the edge of the ditch opposite him, flapping her arms like a chicken. “A big strong hunk like you? No way!”
    â€œLady,” he sputtered, face turning cranberry. “You oughta think real hard about shuttin’ up—”
    â€œHoney, cunt, missy, lady,” Emily interrupted. “And you still can’t get it right. Maybe you’re a moron.” She tapped her badge. “For future reference, my name is ‘Officer.’”
    â€œFuck you!” he growled.
    â€œNo, thanks. If you and a goat were the last two men on Earth, I’d pick the goat.”
    His nostrils flared, and his belly shook like a paint mixer. “Gonna have to teach you some respect, little girl,” he hissed, stomping down into the ditch. She shifted her weight to knee him. But the most grizzled of the deputies caught her eye, shook his head microscopically, and grabbed the sergeant’s shoulder. “Why don’t we let this go, Sarge?” he said quietly. “Your uncle don’t need this crap in an election year.”
    The sergeant huffed and puffed but let himself be talked into giving up. “Yeah, all right,” he muttered. “Better things to do, anyway, than argue with some play-cop.” He wheeled toward the road, clapped his puffy hands. “Look alive, people!” he barked. “Double-check the tracks and ditches to make sure we haven’t missed any evidence! Move it!”
    Emily glued her hands to her sides so no one would see them tremble. She’d been willing to fight the man but certainly didn’t want to—he outweighed her by 150 pounds. Even if she won, she’d hurt for a month. She turned and jogged toward Branch, who was walking along the fence. He gave no sign