Blindside

even as she crashed against the back tire of the van.
    She heard Beau yell, heard two shots. With no hesitation, Fatso gunned the van, but he didn’t get far. She saw Agent Savich turn smoothly and shoot out both back tires. Fatso skidded in the mud and crashed hard into an oak tree. She could see him hit the windshield, then bounce back, his head lolling to the side. He wasn’t going anywhere.
    Katie swung her SIG Sauer around toward Beau just as Savich leapt onto the porch. He was so fast he was a blur, and his leg, smooth, graceful, like a dancer, kicked the gun out of Beau’s hand. It went flying across the porch, landing against a rocking chair leg. Beau grunted, grabbed his hand, and turned to run.
    Agent Savich just grabbed his collar, jerked him around, and sent his fist into his belly, then his jaw.
    Beau cursed, and tried to fight back. Savich merely belted him again, this time in his kidney. He shoved him down onto the porch and stood over him. He wasn’t even breathing hard. “Sometimes I like to fight theold-fashioned way. Now, you just stay real still, Beau, or I just might have to hurt you. You hear me?”
    “I hear you, you bastard. I want my lawyer.”
    Katie, her SIG Sauer still in her hand, walked slowly up onto the porch. She looked down at the man who probably would have killed her, killed Sam and Keely, without a dollop of remorse. She shoved her SIG back into the waistband of her jeans, lifted her booted foot and slammed it into his ribs.
    “Here’s one for Sam and Keely,” she said, and kicked him again.
    “That’s police brutality,” Beau said, gasping from the pain in his ribs. “I’m gonna sue your ass off!”
    “Nah, you’re not,” she said. “You’re in the backwoods now, Beau, and do you know what that means?”
    “You marry your brother.”
    “No, it means you’ll marry my brother, if I want you to.”
    Dillon Savich was laughing as he looked at the bedraggled woman, hair hanging down, pulled free from her ponytail, her mouth pale from cold. “Sheriff Benedict, I presume?”
    “Yes,” she said, already looking around for Sam and Keely.
    “I’m Agent Savich. A pleasure, ma’am. You like excitement, don’t you?”
    “What I liked best in all of this was the sound of your voice and sight of your face, Agent Savich. Those were some cool moves you made to take down old Beau.”
    “I tripped, dammit!”
    “Yeah, right,” Katie said, and looked toward the van again. Clancy was still out of it. She was on the point of going over and pulling him out when Sam shouted “Papa!”
    “Mama!”
    She heard a man yell “Sam!”
    “Mr. Kettering?”

    “Yes, that’s Miles. I ordered him on pain of death and dismemberment to stay back. And here’s your little girl, ma’am.”
    Keely was wet to the bone, her flannel pajamas plastered to her, her hair hanging in her eyes. Katie swept her up into her arms and held her so tight the little girl squeaked.
    “Keely got me, Papa! Keely woke me up and opened the window in my room to fool Beau and Clancy, then we went out the window in her bedroom. We’ve been hiding just over there, behind that tree. I recognized Beau and knew we had to stay hidden. Did you see Uncle Dillon? He kicked the crap out of skinny old Beau!”
    Uncle Dillon? Katie smiled, kissed her daughter’s wet hair, and called out, “You wet as Keely, Sam?”
    “I’m wetter than a frog buried under a lily pad.”
    She saw Sam’s smile before she saw the rest of his face. He was being carried by a big man who was as wet as he was, and who was smiling even bigger than his boy. She liked the looks of him, liked the way he held his boy.
    Miles carried Sam up onto the front porch. He saw Beau lying on his back, not even twitching, and he handed Sam to Savich.
    He went down on his hands and knees, closed his fist around Beau’s shirt collar, and jerked him up. “Hello, you miserable scum.”
    “Get off me, you bastard!”
    “Oh, I’m lots more than a bastard. I’m your worst nightmare, Beau. I’m meaner than the man who just kicked your ass. I’m Sam’s father and do you have any idea what I want to do to you?”
    “Get him away from me!”
    “Oh, no,” Savich said, Sam now hanging about his neck, held real close. “You deserve whatever he wants to do to you. If he wants to, he can kick your tonsils out the back of your neck.”

    Miles Kettering pulled Beau to his feet and sent his fist into his jaw. Beau went down and stayed down.
    Miles gave