Tears of a Dragon Read Online Free PDF

Bonnie, the professor handed her the cane, then slipped a pair of dark glasses over her eyes. “You’re a blind girl now,” he whispered. “Patrick’s idea. And he said to keep your hood low over your brow.”
    The professor gazed at the flight arrivals monitor. “Barlow, follow their lead to the baggage claim area. Miss Silver and I will try to find Miss Foley at concourse D. We will all meet back at this spot and reconfigure our travel arrangements.”
    Bonnie felt the professor’s arm around her shoulder as he guided her down the wide, terrazzo hallway. She glanced back and saw that Ashley had decided to stay close to Barlow and company, peeking over the card she had received from Pebbles while the others bustled toward baggage claim.
    “Don’t look around,” the professor said softly. “You’re blind, remember?”
    Bonnie hovered the cane in front of her. “Should I tap it or something?”
    “There is no need. I’m guiding you.”
    Although Bonnie had to march quickly to keep up with the professor’s long strides, she enjoyed the secure embrace of his steady arm. She had learned to completely trust this amazing gentleman, his wisdom, his spiritual strength, and his physical stamina. Even if she really were blind, she would go wherever he guided, no questions asked. They had been through so much together, he was like a grandfather she had known all her life.
    The professor pulled Bonnie to a stop, and his warm breath brushed her ear. “We’ve arrived, Miss Silver. Do you know what Miss Foley looks like?”
    She kept her gaze straight ahead. “I saw pictures of her at their house, but I don’t know how old they were. She’s real pretty—shoulder-length blond hair, blue eyes, dimples when she smiles. In the family shot, she was the same height as Walter, and she’s kind of thin like he is. But I can see through these glasses. I’ll help you find her.”
    “As long as you keep your head still. Otherwise you won’t appear to be blind.”
    “Sure, I’ll just—”
    “Enough talking,” he said, taking her hand. “Squeeze twice if you see her.”
    For the next twenty minutes or so, Bonnie surveyed the crowds of people streaming in from the arriving flights. Quite a few looked sort of like Shelly, and she worried that the dark glasses might skew her vision too much. Several onlookers held signs with people’s names on them, obviously searching for someone they wouldn’t recognize. A “Shelly Foley” sign would make it all so easy, but would it draw too much attention?
    Bonnie read some of the signs to herself, Alf Mortenson, James Ricardo, Juanita Ames, wondering about the person represented by each one, where they were coming from, where they were going. Sam Hutchinson, Bill Marks, Shelly Foley. Bonnie stiffened. Shelly Foley! She squeezed the professor’s hand twice.
    He leaned down. “Where is she?”
    Bonnie whispered hoarsely. “Look at the sign to your right, about twenty feet away. The guy with the curly blond hair.”
    A young man held the sign, so stunningly handsome he seemed unearthly. Bonnie distrusted him immediately. “He’s up to no good. I can feel it.”
    “And I concur.” The professor placed his arm around her shoulder. “Let’s see what his intentions are.”
    They crept toward the man, Bonnie with her cane in front, but just before they came within speaking distance, a young woman broke free from the crowd. “You looking for me?” she asked the man.
    The young man’s bright eyes gleamed as he flashed a million-dollar smile. “Shelly Foley?”
    She nodded. “That’s me.”
    Bonnie looked her over. She certainly resembled Shelly, but Bonnie had never seen a photo of her dressed so . . . casually—an unzipped sweatshirt revealing a tight Harvard top that didn’t quite reach her low-slung jeans.
    Bonnie kept her chin tucked close to her chest. With the hood draped over her brow and the shades over her eyes, she doubted that Shelly would guess who she