Double Blind Read Online Free PDF Page A

someone named Forrest Wade. The two-story white frame building beyond was dark.
    Sam stood in the street, listening to the faint ticking of the cooling engine, and weighed her options. She could walk back and check things out. Or, wake up Chief Wade and let him handle it. But, where was he? Not in his darkened office. She looked up and down the street. Not a soul. Not even a stray dog. How would she reach Chief Wade and how long would it take? If she had indeed seen and heard gunfire, time wasn’t a luxury at her disposal.
    With her mental committee still squabbling, she reached into her Jeep, popped open the glove box, and removed her .357 Smith and Wesson, a small flashlight, and her badge wallet.
    Might as well get this over with.
    She stuffed the badge in one pocket, flashlight in the other, and clipped the gun on her belt at the small of her back. The coldness of the mountain air bored into her and she tugged up the zipper of her leather jacket. She flexed and relaxed her fists several times, the aching joints protesting the movements.
    Sam eased along the sidewalk, staying close to the buildings. When she reached Varney’s, she carefully peered through the lower corner of the front window into the cavernous darkness. The faint light that filtered in from the street revealed that everything appeared in order. The cash register sat undisturbed on a counter near the front. The merchandise she could see from her vantage point was neatly stacked, nothing out of place. She searched for a shadow among the shadows, but saw nothing.
    Then, along the right wall, a change in the darkness, a faint wedge of gray disrupting the blackness. An open door?
    She pulled the .357 from its holster. The weapon seemed heavier than usual as she wrapped her swollen fingers around it. She sneaked down the narrow alley between Varney’s and the Gold Creek Bank until she reached the door, which indeed stood partially open. She listened, but heard nothing except the sound of her own breathing and the thumping of her heart in her throat.
    She started to rap her fist on the doorframe, announce herself as a police officer, but froze when she detected an odor, drifting through the door. A stale, musty odor. Animalistic, but laced with something else. Her brain quickly sorted through its files, made the connection.
    Cordite. No illusion. Someone had fired a gun.
    Her heart up shifted. Taking a deep breath, she reached to push open the door with her left hand.
    Suddenly the door swung away and a huge man, shoulder lowered, slammed into her. She flew backwards. Her gun escaped her grip as she collided with the wall of the bank next door. Her head ricocheted off the stucco, cracking her teeth together. Flashes of light exploded within her brain.
    Stunned, she rolled on to her side and looked toward the fleeing man. She judged he was easily 6-3, well over 250 pounds, with thick rounded shoulders. And he could move. Fast. Faster than his bulk would suggest.
    He never broke stride as he darted down the alleyway and turned to his right, behind the bank.
    She struggled to her feet, fighting to ignore the wave of dizziness that swept over her. She scooped up her gun and took off after him.
    She entered the alley that ran behind the buildings, the .357 leading the way. Her senses went to full alert, eyes probing every shadow, ears seeking the sound of footsteps, nose capturing only the faintest remnant of the musty odor.
    “Who’s there?” she shouted.
    No answer.
    “I’m a cop. Come on out.”
    Silence.
    She searched the alley, the narrow passageways between the shops, and behind a cluster of trash cans. Nothing. No one. It was as if he had evaporated into the cold night air.
    She returned to the open door. Gun in one hand and flashlight in the other, she stepped inside, turning one way and then the other, the light beam directed down her line of sight.
    “Anybody in here?” she shouted. No answer. She panned the light around the room, its narrow beam