KnockOut - Catherine Coulter [56]
Okay. Ah, maybe I’d better give you my cell phone number. Can you memorize it so you won’t have to turn on a light and wake up your mama?
He repeated his cell number three times, listened to her repeat it after him each time. Good. Now, Ethan was right. I’m up to my neck here in a pile of bad guys. I’ll call him in the morning, maybe get to Titusville in the next couple of days. How’s that?
I wish you were here right now. I don’t know if Ethan’s a hero like you are.
I’ll bet you Ethan is a real big hero. He’s watching over you and your mom now, isn’t he?
Savich clearly heard a woman’s voice say, “Autumn, sweetie?”
And Autumn said, “Mama, I’m talking to Dillon like I told you.”
He heard nothing else. Autumn said, Mama doesn’t want to believe I’m really talking to you, Dillon, but she says hello.
Hello to your mom too.
Will you get Blessed?
I’ll do my best.
Thank you, Dillon, and she was gone.
28
“THAT WAS AUTUMN?”
“Yes.” Savich looked up into Sherlock’s face, then turned off the bedside lamp. Her face was shadowed, since there wasn’t much of a moon to light their bedroom. He touched her hair and smiled. “She and her mom are in Titusville, Virginia, with Sheriff Ethan. She didn’t tell me his last name. They’re in trouble, according to Autumn. At least they’re staying at the sheriff’s house, deputies everywhere.” And he told her everything Autumn had told him.
“You never mentioned this Tollie Tolbert—what a name. He really knew your dad?”
Savich nodded. “He’s been retired quite a while now. Last time I saw him was at my dad’s funeral. I’d feel a whole lot better if he were there, but Autumn said he was visiting the Everglades. The sheriff sounds like he’s doing all the right things—of course, this is all from a seven-year-old’s perspective.
“I’m thinking given this special ability she has, Autumn has had to be growing up a lot faster than normal. She was pretty cogent, Sherlock, she spoke really well, but you know what, when I looked at that beautiful little face of hers, I wanted to drop everything and pluck her out of harm’s way fast. She’s in fear of some very strange relatives.”
“As strange as Blessed?”
“Yep. There’s Shepherd Backman, Blessed’s mom, and Grace, his brother.”
Sherlock tilted her head at him.
“What is it?”
She said, “I thought Blessed’s name sounded familiar, but I let it go. But those three names.” She ducked her head down to tuck against his neck. “I’ve seen those names. Where was it?” She reared up and smacked herself on the head. “Okay, I remember now. I was doing online research for that cult case we’ve got going out in Idaho, reading about religious cults, what they do, how they operate, how they indoctrinate their members.”
Savich eased his hand beneath her short pajama top and began rubbing her back. “What’d you find?”
“There were hundreds of blogs written by the cults themselves—recruiting, I suppose—and there were newsletters, some out every month, subscription only. I found one that had to do with the supernatural power of the mind, and it talked about three people who had names like that—Shepherd, Blessed, and Grace, I think. First names only.”
He gave her a huge kiss. “You’re incredible,” he said, rolled her off him, and got out of bed. She grinned as he grabbed a pair of sweats and pulled them on.
“Tell me the name of the blog.”
“Something about sunset, sundown—something like that. It’s in my files. Wait, I remember—it’s ‘Children of Twilight.’”
He shook his head at that. “I’ve got to take a look at this. Thanks, sweetheart. Go to sleep.”
29
TITUSVILLE, VIRGINIA
Tuesday morning
Ethan woke up at six o’clock in the morning. He knew better than to get up or the animals would begin pretending they were starving with barks and loud meows punctuated by cat storms, Big Louie in pursuit, all through the house. He didn’t want Autumn or Joanna to wake up that early.
So he lay there, listening to Lula snore lightly, watching Big Louie twitch in his sleep. As for Mackie, he cocked an eye