Spectre Black Read Online Free PDF

of the tamarisk tree.
    For hours at a time, the road remained empty. There was very little traffic either way. Maybe one or two cars, zipping by.
    No sign of Jolie.
    He checked his answering service: nothing.
    Maybe she was waiting until it was dark. But Landry couldn’t stay out here much longer. Even though there was little traffic on the road, the disabled car would become conspicuous at some point. That point hadn’t been reached yet, but it would soon.
    He counted only fourteen cars in a three-hour stretch, all whizzing past.
    Late in the afternoon, a rancher drove into the lot and parked near the tree. He leaned across the seat and yelled through the open window, “Need help?”
    “I got this,” Landry said. “Thanks.”
    “You sure?” The rancher turned off the engine and got out of his truck. He wore a straw cowboy hat, a snap-button plaid shirt, and boot-cut Wranglers. Wranglers and Roper boots. The man’s face was seamed and brown, like a gingersnap cookie. He reached out and shook Landry’s hand. “Name’s Jerry Boam.”
    “Boam? Like the giant bottle of wine or the first king of Israel?”
    The rancher laughed. “Both, I reckon. My parents, God rest ’em, had a sense of humor. Funny thing is, they was both teetotalers.”
    “I’ve heard everything, now.”
    “Nope. There’s plenty more where that came from. My sister’s name is Margarita.”
    Landry covered his eyes against the glare. “I’m new here, came to see a friend of mine. Her name’s Jolie Burke. Do you know her?”
    He thought for a moment. “She live in Branch?”
    “Yup. She’s with the local sheriff’s.”
    “Sounds familiar. Local girl? You sure you don’t want a lift?”
    “No thanks, I’m good.” Landry grinned. “It’s time I brushed up on my tire-changing skills.”
    “Seek and ye shall find, that’s what the Lord says.” The rancher reached into his breast pocket and pressed a pamphlet into Landry’s hand. “We’re all travelers in search of answers. I think you’ll find some comfort here.”
    Landry looked down at the religious tract in his hand. Boam hopped into the truck cab, started up the engine and cocked his elbow on the door. “You see those sheriff’s cars?”
    “Sure did.”
    “You know what they were going to?”
    Landry shook his head. “No idea.”
    “Guess I’ll hear about it on the news. Or on the Internets. You take care now and drink plenty of water. It gets hot out here.”
    Landry held up his water bottle with a grin. “What are the motels like in Branch?”
    “Oh, fair to middlin’. The Satellite INN is nice, though. Wife’s cousin works there. They got cable TV, even serve breakfast. Nothing fancy, just some coffee, rolls, butter patties. Swimming pool, too. I remember when the place was built in 1963. Most modern thing I ever saw. Oh, if you do like wine, which I do not , there’s a winery right here in Branch. Think it’s over by the Walmart.”
    “Thanks.”
    Boam nodded to the leaflet. “Be sure to read that now, there’s nothing like God’s Word to set you straight on the path.” He saluted, put the truck in gear, and drove away.

    Dusk came. A few official-looking cars and the tall white van went by—this time in the opposite direction. And this time, they were in no hurry.
    Curious, Landry checked his Samsung 4G. No bars. He’d called the pay phone intermittently, but getting a signal on his cell phone was catch-as-catch-can out here. He waited some more. The sun began to show through the tamarisk screen. The white Nissan sat there with the wheel propped against the back fender, telling its story. Someone had a flat tire, and that same someone had gone to get help. Landry left the car where it was and walked out into the desert.
    There wasn’t any high ground to watch the Circle K from, so Landry burrowed down in a desert wash an eighth of a mile away. He lay in a prone position at the lip of the arroyo’s bank and watched the Circle K through his