| |
SKYE STEELE CIRCLED GOLDEN, trying to orient herself in the darkness. After she had received word that the office still had not been able to contact Jesse to alert her, she had decided a change of plans and a more aggressive approach was in order. Besides, it gave her an opportunity to fly the Air Tractor 501 crop duster she had spotted back at the cotton farm where they found the kids. The 1100 hp Pratt + Whitney turboprop engine purred as she climbed back around for another pass. If her recollection of the Google map she had looked at before take-off was accurate, she had only one choice.
Swinging the aircraft around, Skye began a quick descent. Street lights flashed below her. She banked right and swung lower. Skye wasn't an adrenaline junky but she had to admit it, there was a thrill in what she was about to do because someone was in danger. She passed just over an old barn, aiming for the old road on the edge of Golden, one street over from Jesse Flint's house. The crop duster had a wingspan of 48 feet and should fit between any poles on the road's edge. Should being the operative word. The crop duster dropped lower, then hit the pavement with a slight bounce. The low wing aircraft tilted up on one wheel and then she brought it back down and braked hard, bringing it to a quick stop.
Skye was out of the cockpit and running within seconds. Slipping through the darkness between two old houses, she found herself on the sidewalk, looking at a dark street lined with old, two-story houses. The smell of a backyard barbecue hung on the air. Just as she was about to start looking for house numbers, Skye spotted two state trooper vehicles and a large, dark sedan parked in front of a house at the far end of the street. She paused and checked on the nearby house numbers. She concluded the vehicles were parked right in front of the house she was looking for. She was either too late and the troopers were working a crime scene...or they were members of the Knights of the Golden Circle gang she was told about.
Jogging casually along the sidewalk toward Jesse Flint's house, Sky kept an eye out for any attacks from the darkness around her. Reaching a spot just across from the police cars, Skye bent over, hands on her knees, pretending she was resting. But her eyes were scanning for any movement around her. No one would be expecting her but she couldn't afford to take any chances. Not detecting anyone, she slipped leather gloves out of her pocket and put them on. Then, turning on her toes, Skye ran low and quiet across to the dark sedan in front of Jesse Flint's house. She wanted to know who this vehicle belonged to, who she was up against, besides state troopers. There was a South Carolina government parking sticker on the windshield on the passenger side. She spotted a few folders in the backseat. Pulling a small penlight out of her pocket, Skye flashed it over the folders. A label on the thick top folder identified the contents as trial papers for a Circuit Court Judge, The Honorable Vernon P. Teague. Interesting. Why would a circuit court judge be visiting Jesse Flint along with state troopers late at night? She couldn't see any lights on in the house at all. Everything was dark. If they were working a crime scene you would expect lights on everywhere. Something else was happening inside.
Skye slipped across the lawn to the side of the house. She moved slow, watching the darkness around her as well as each dark window she passed. Reaching the backyard, she waited, listening. Everything was quiet. Moving to the back door, she gently turned the knob. Locked. She moved over to the far side of the house. There were definitely no lights on downstairs. Moving further into the backyard and away from the house, Skye turned and looked up. The windows above her were dark but there was a light glow. A light was on upstairs in one of the inner rooms. She wanted to see inside before she penetrated the house. There was a cast drain pipe running up the back wall to the roof. It ran past a second-floor window on this side of the house. Skye moved to the bottom of the pipe, tested it and then began climbing hand over hand, using her feet against the old boards where she could. She reached the window, braced her feet against the house while holding on with one hand, and reached over. The window was not locked and she slid it up and open enough to get inside. She placed her hand inside the window frame and swung herself over. Slithering through the open window on her stomach, Skye found herself in a bedroom. She knelt on the floor and listened. She could hear low voices. Moving to the bedroom door, she reached up to the doorknob and opened it a crack. A light spilled into the hallway on the other side, from an open doorway about 20 feet away on the left.
"C'mon Jesse," said a deep voice with a southern drawl, "this will go much better if you tell us where the other items are."
"And I keep telling you, I have no idea what you're talking about," a female voice said. The voice sounded both frustrated and scared.
"Jesse, Jesse, Jesse," chided the deep voice, "you disappoint me–"
I disappoint you," the female said with anger in her voice. "We went to school together, Vern. I thought I knew you–"
"I know how loyal you were to your grandparents," continued the deep voice as if the woman was never even talking, "and I admire that loyalty. But we're on the same side. We've also been protecting the knowledge and information–"
The door exploded in on Skye Steele, knocking her backward. She rolled over smoothly and to the side as a large form filled the open doorway. The light glinted off the barrel of a handgun.