Ghost River Jon Coon (free reads TXT) 📖

calling him back on special assignments. I’m not sure what he really does, but I know he’s always busy. So as much as he loves the ranch, as long as the Rangers keep calling, full time ranching will have to wait. He and Charlie were great pals. Dad’s really going to miss him.”

“We all will,” Gabe said. Emily was teary. Carol had a sad smile.

Paul came through the door just in time to change the mood. “Smells wonderful. Who cooked?”

“Me and Mom. You’ve got clean up.”

“Feed me first, then maybe,” Paul said.

“I’ll help,” Mickey said from the doorway. She had on a clean T-shirt and shorts and was still towel drying her hair. “That fire smells wonderful.” She sat on the hearth drying her hair until Carol said, “Go wake Zack, and we can sit together.” Mickey wrapped her head in the towel and went to wake Zack.

“Okay, Mr. Confirmed Bachelor, how does it feel to suddenly have a family of five?” Carol asked with a bit of tease.

Well for all of one night, better than I would have guessed. “Okay,” he answered.

With breakfast finished and the dishes done, Gabe called everyone back to the table. “My suggestion is we stay here, at least until we find out who broke into the house and what they were after. What will we need to make that work?”

Carol began, “Extra clothes would be good. I’ll talk to Emily’s and Paul’s teachers. We can go back to homeschooling for a while.”

“Great.”

“Mickey, how about you? Do you want to stay or go back home?”

“We have our clothes and stuff, so I’m good for now. If you think we’re safer here, we should probably stay.”

“Okay, Zack, how about you?”

“I’m with Mickey—whatever she wants. I reread Dad’s notebook last night. He mentions Wilson Corbitt several times. Looks like they were friends.”

“Good. Perhaps if we can find Corbitt he can help us. Thanks for telling me.”

“No problem,” Zack replied.

“I’m going to check in at my office. You guys are going to hit the web and research everything you can find about Florida bridges. We need a list of builders and accidents. If you can find it, we want to know about repair contracts and anything that stands out as unusual. Then we want to know how the bidding worked. If you could find a copy of the bid package that would be great. Then look at the bidders, the contractors, the inspectors, where the plans might be, anything you can think of. Later Carol and I will go back to the house and pack what you’ll need,” he said looking at Paul and Emily. “You might help her and make lists. Then we’ll stock up on groceries. What else?”

“Security here?” Zack asked.

“You’re going to like this,” Gabe said. He walked over to an old walnut roll-top desk, opened it, and turned on a ten-year-old computer. “The folks who let me use this place had good reason to be concerned about security.”

“Do you mean . . . ?” Carol asked.

“Let’s just say it’s mine for another fifteen to twenty years depending on someone’s good behavior. Anyway, check this out.”

The computer monitor came online with views from four security cameras: Two on the dirt driveway, one showing the front of the house, the last showing the back. “The alarm sounds like a phone. It will ring twice, stop, and then repeat. You enter the code here to shut it off.” He pointed to a box at the bottom of the screen. “Here’s the code.” He wrote six digits on a pad beside the computer.

“What then?” Zack asked.

“First you call me. Tell me exactly what’s happening. And if it’s a car or truck, get the tag number. Camera number two is set up to do that. Also, I’ve turned on the recorder, so you can back up the tape if you need to and look again.

“There’s no need to stand and fight. Can you guys run an outboard?” Nods from Zack and Paul. “Okay, come on. I’ll show you the boat. If you see someone coming up the drive you don’t know, get to the boat. Go down river about a mile. Dr. Alethea Guidry’s cabin is on the right bank. Stay there until I come for you.”

“Dr. Guidry?” Carol asked.

“Seventy-year-old Creole with two PhDs, a gumbo pot, and a 12 gauge. Great groceries if you don’t mind a little buckshot. You might remember her. She came to the funeral.”

“Really? Why did she come?” Carol asked.

“She was my mother’s cousin. We reconnected when I volunteered in New Orleans after Katrina. I hadn’t seen her since I was four or five. She was doing crisis counseling for the police and fire teams. She was my counselor and let me stay with her while I was there. We became good friends.”

“Why did you need treatment, and what’s she doing here?

“She’s working on a new book. She wanted someplace quiet to study and write.”

“And?”

“There were some things—they said it was PTSD. I had a rough time for a while. She was a big help.” Rough time? That’s an understatement. I was a certified basket case.

“I remember when you came home. You were awfully quiet.”

“Being back with you and Charlie helped me a lot.”

“But you never told us.”

“Like I said, it was a rough time. Look, I’ll leave the Remington and the Colt. If you feel threatened, run if you can. If you can’t, well, aim low and be sure you want to take them down before you fire.”

“What about the dogs?” Mickey this time. Wesson was begging for her attention. Smith was asleep by the front door.

“The dogs will take care of themselves. They’re not at all aggressive, but if they thought someone was trying to hurt you, I’m pretty sure those big, hungry teeth would make an impression.” I need to ask Bob if we’ve found our dog-bitten shooter . . .

1100

The Family Diner

Colder, still no rain

“Morning, Detective. Morning, Gabe,” the hostess said as they entered.

“Morning, Sally,” they said as