Rocky Mountain Dreams & Family on the Range Danica Favorite (warren buffett book recommendations .txt) 📖

“We must run,” she whispered into Josie’s ear. The little girl’s head moved imperceptibly in a nod before she wiggled out of Mary’s grasp.

The man reached for her again, but she whirled away, dragging Josie with her. The door behind them had shut and so she opted for scuttling near the wall. Darkness closed around them as they moved farther into the shadows of a corner.

The man’s heavy breathing filled the space, combining with the dank odors of mold and rotted wood. As far as she could tell, he wasn’t following them. And how could he? The lack of light served her well. She ran her fingers down Josie’s cheek before grabbing her hand again.

“I’m going to find you,” their captor said suddenly, his voice grating in the silence. “And when I do, it won’t be pretty.”

They crouched in the darkness, every breath seeming a siren to her, but still, no movement to be heard. After an interminable wait, a scraping to her right made her catch her breath. One hand gripping Josie’s, she used her other to slide the derringer out of her skirt pocket.

The metal fit coolly into her palm, comfortably. Just imagine he’s a target, she told herself. A wooden target, like the kind she and James practiced with. Drawing a steady breath, she willed her heartbeat to slow.

She’d just achieved a sort of eerie calm when something flew into the room, startling her. Her captor as well, for he made a noise, followed by the loud pop of his weapon. The sound echoed through the room, filling her ears. And then out of the shadows, he lunged toward them. All she saw was his shape before instinct took over and pulled the trigger.

Lou arrived at the docks minutes after Langdon. He’d been fortunate in that Portland traffic’s heaviness slowed the man’s automobile enough for him to hop a streetcar headed in the same direction. If Langdon saw him, he gave no indication.

Now he stalked to the port, weapon at the ready. He spotted O’Leary pulling away from the curb near an old, broken-down building. Careful to be inconspicuous, he gave O’Leary quick eye contact, only to be surprised by the undercover agent’s swift chin jerk toward the building before speeding away.

Hmm. Lou tapped the pockets of his blue jeans. He probably should have stopped in at the office and set up some sort of operation. For now he would just observe. Hopefully, he’d see enough to get a warrant later. Plan in place, he edged up against the building. Filth covered the panes of glass.

He peered in anyway, but saw nothing. Moving forward, he kept his back to the building and his eye on the docks. Only feet away, workers bustled and moved. No sign of Langdon, but the name of his vessel should be obvious soon enough.

The rough wood of the building behind him scraped at his shirt. A man pushing a wheelbarrow toward him gave him a wary look. Stifling a groan, he jammed his hat more firmly in place. People in these places had no use for authorities.

Looking like a policeman closed more mouths than if he waltzed in with his badge flashing. Maybe he should lose the hat. At the least.

He took it off his head and inched toward the door to the building. He pressed it open and poked his head in. Met nothing but stink. Perfect. He whipped his hat into the dark room and then stiffened when a muffled oomph issued from the depths.

Before he could draw his weapon, a volley of gunfire blasted out. He dropped to his stomach, revolver at the ready.

The noise ended abruptly.

He drew his knees up under his stomach and held still, listening. Someone groaned from inside.

“Bureau of Investigation. Hold your fire,” he shouted into the room. A crowd was gathering across the street, but he ignored them.

The sound came again, and then a scuffling sound...or was it sniffling? Crying? He rose to his feet slowly. “Come out, weapons down, by order of Lou Riley, special agent to the Bureau of Investigation.”

“Lou?”

It felt as if his gut dropped to his feet when he heard Mary’s voice. She appeared in the doorway, Josie in her arms and a small Remington derringer clutched in her fingers. She blinked as she came out of the dark.

The sound of police drawing near scattered the crowd, most of them having no desire to be seen in this vicinity.

Lou couldn’t take his eyes off Mary.

Her eyes were huge, shocked. Filmy spiderwebs clung to the mussed strands of her hair. Josie was nestled in her arms, her shoulders shaking with the force of her fear. He swallowed, his throat tight and dry. Carefully, he reached for Mary’s hand, prying the pistol from her cold fingers.

Her eyes met his. “I shot him,” she whispered.

Local police pulled up behind him. Taking his gaze from her, he flashed his badge, introduced himself and gave them the details. He put his arm around her shoulders and steered her and Josie to the side, away from the open door and closer to the end of the building.

She felt tiny and frail beneath his hands. What had happened in there? How had she come into possession of a pistol? He had a million questions, but seeing the look on her face stilled them all.

No tears. Just a blank heaviness.

He knew exactly what that felt like.

He tucked his fingers beneath Josie’s ribs, but she wouldn’t let go of Mary.

“I’m okay,” Mary said, her voice quiet and flat. “You should check that man....” Her voice trailed off and her gaze dropped.

Lou pulled her to him, pressing her hair against his chest, dropping his lips to her and Josie’s heads, cradling them and warming them. This shouldn’t have happened. Just like before. Just like Sarah and Abby. He’d been too busy working.

He should have been here for them.

And where had God been?

Absent, as usual.

A hot anger started in his