Blindside

television last night.”
    “I’ll be fine.” He looked pointedly down at the book he was reading.
    “Would you go for a cup of coffee after you’re finished working out? I’m buying.”
    He smiled. “Thank you, Ms. Rapper, but I’m married. I don’t go out for coffee with other women even if they’re offering to pay.”
    She laughed. “Sure you can. It’s no big deal. I’m not going to seduce you, Agent Savich, it’s only a cup of coffee, a bit of conversation.”
    He shook his head. “Sorry.”
    “Perhaps it’s time for you to loosen up a bit, have a bit of fun. I know, I know, what fun can you have over coffee? It’s possible, I swear.”
    Savich said, “You’ve probably seen my wife here at thegym—red curly hair, big blue eyes. She’s also an FBI agent. Her name’s Sherlock.”
    “That’s ridiculous.”
    “What? Hair? Name? The fact that she’s an agent?”
    “Her name,” she said, looking into the mirror behind Dillon Savich. “Her name is ridiculous.”
    “Rapper’s pretty funny, too.”
    She stopped in her tracks. “Yes,” she said slowly, “perhaps it is.” She looked at him again, but he couldn’t begin to read her expression. She punched the stop pad, stepped off the treadmill before it stopped, and walked away. She said over her shoulder, giving him a profile that she knew was superb, “You just think about having coffee with me, Agent Savich, all right?”
    She was gone before he could answer.

27
    I t was a beautiful Wednesday morning. Katie looked up at the blue sky with its fat scattered white clouds, and followed them to the ever-present wall of mountains just off to the east. They were covered with maple, poplar, beech, and sugar maples in gorgeous reds and bright yellows and golds, the pines and firs holding to their green. Even the browns looked lustrous, magical, a magnificent palette of colors. There was simply no more beautiful a spot in the world than eastern Tennessee in the late fall. It was about fifty-five degrees, just enough nip in the day for her leather jacket. She breathed in the delicious smell of leaves mixed with the smoke from wood-burning fireplaces. Moments like this made Katie wish she could put off winter, with its frigid winds and snow and stripped-down trees.
    She kept the engine running as she watched Miles lead Sam and Keely to Minna’s front porch. He leaned down, spoke to both children, and touched each of them—Sam’s arm and Keely’s hair. They both hugged him, then ran to Keely’s grandmother when she opened the front door. Chocolate chip cookies, Katie thought, remembering her excitement when she’d been a kid. She watched the twodeputies take their positions, guarding the house with Sam and Keely in it. She made another sweep of the area. Nothing out of the ordinary.
    Sam seemed just fine to Katie, thank God. This morning he groused and complained, just like Keely, when Katie had given him oatmeal and not Cheerios, an excellent sign. Miles hadn’t helped when he’d looked at the oatmeal, blinked, and said he’d always thought oatmeal was good for making grout, but not eating. The kids had laughed, and Katie, just smiling, waited, until he took a big spoonful, rolled his eyes and said, “This is the best grout I’ve ever eaten. Here, Sam, take a bite of this.” And Sam had said he loved it, and tried to roll his eyes just like his dad. There’d been laughter at the breakfast table, and that had felt very good. She’d also found herself smiling at Miles for no good reason she could think of.
    Sam would see Sheila again today, in the early afternoon, but Sheila had told her and Miles that Sam talked more about Keely now and how he’d stuffed tons of leaves down her shirt. He talked more about Jessborough and Mrs. Miggs at the quilt shop who gave the children peppermints than he did about his kidnapping or about Clancy and Beau. It was a good sign, a very hopeful thing. Sheila was sure he wasn’t holding back. He was a resilient little kid.
    He was more than that, Katie thought, much more than that, especially to her, and that wasn’t particularly wise. She got out of her truck and walked up the driveway. All was clear.
    When Miles joined her, he said, “I doubt they’ll even give us a thought. Your mom is the best, Katie.” He paused a moment, drew in a deep breath, reached out his hand to touch a vivid gold maple leaf and said, “How much longer will it look like God’s country around here?”
    “Another