The Candidates Read Online Free PDF Page B

consume him. “Should I call the police?”
    “No!” His voice cracked again. “No,” he repeated. “Just say you haven’t seen me.”
    He let me go and started running down the block. When he got to the corner, he took a right and headed in the direction of the open space on the edge of town.
    Just as the boy disappeared from view, a beige sedan appeared at the head of the street, several blocks away. It moved slowly, deliberately.
    As the car approached, I could see the driver looking carefully from side to side. He was blond and clean shaven, and mirrored sunglasses covered half his face. When he saw me, he pulled over and rolled down the passenger-side window, the seat belt pulling tight against his shoulder as he leaned to the side.
    He pushed up the sunglasses and arranged his face in a semblance of concern. “Excuse me, miss, but did you see a boy run by here? He would have been about your age, tall, with a tattoo around his arm.”
    My heart thumped hard, paused, and thumped again. The whoosh of a windstorm filled my ears. “No,” I said, trying to sound calm. “I haven’t seen anyone.”
    His mouth tightened, and then he manufactured a worried grimace. “Are you sure? See, my son and I had a fight, and he stormed off. I’m really worried about him. You’re absolutely sure you didn’t see him?”
    Now I knew something was up. Unless this guy fathered that kid when he was in elementary school, he was lying. And the kid had looked terrified. Why?
    “Look, I already told you no. Now, I’m right in the middle of a workout, so if you don’t mind …” With an annoyed look, I backed away and started running again. It took all my willpower to set a steady rhythm and keep my shoulders loose, as if I had no idea something unusual was going on. Behind me, I heard the car engine rev and the tires squeal. I shot a glance over my shoulder just in time to see the car turn in the direction of the open space.
    The same direction the kid had run, just a minute before.
    He was in danger. I couldn’t ignore it. And I was the only one who could help him.
    Helplessly, I fixated on the car as an image appeared in my head. A second later, both front tires blew out with a sound like a shotgun. The car began fishtailing wildly. There was a sickening sound of screeching tires and then crashing steel as the sedan slammed into a huge red pickup parked on the side of the road.
    I sucked in a deep breath, spun around, and sprinted toward the car, my heart beating so fast I couldn’t hear where one heartbeat stopped and the next began.
    A huge lump stuck in my throat.
    I hadn’t thought he would crash like that.
    Please, let him be okay. Please don’t let me have hurt him.
    A woman in a bathrobe ran out of the house behind the pickup with a phone in her hand. I got close enough to look over her shoulder as she peered into the car window.
    Thank you, oh thank you.
    He must have hit the steering wheel, because a crack ran down one lens of his sunglasses, and a thin line of blood connected his eyebrows. But he was alive. He swore loudly and pulled the glasses from his face. The seat belt I noticed earlier held him pinned to the seat, and he jerked it loose.
    The woman with the phone began asking him questions. “Are you all right? Can you hear me? Do you know what day it is?”
    The man barked something at her, but I couldn’t hear what he said. The rushing still clogged my ears, though it sounded muted now, like the distant roar of the ocean. He grabbed a cell phone and held it up, glaring at the woman until she backed away from the car. As soon as she gave him room, he leaned over his cell as if wanting privacy, and began to speak in a low voice. A few seconds later he flipped his phone closed and pushed against the car door. It didn’t budge, and he swore again.
    I eased my way toward the sidewalk when I saw a couple of other people coming out of their houses. Clearly the situation was under control. The lady in the