Free Not by Sight by Kathy Herman Page A

I’m sure they’re all having a great laugh at my expense. Let them. I don’t care what they think.”
    Jay turned to her. “Think you should be so quick to blow it off, Abby? What if the call was for real?”
    “It wasn’t. Mason’s trying to get back at me because I won’t go out with him.”
    “Maybe I should pay Mason a visit and tell him to back off.”
    “Please don’t,” Abby said. “They’ll gang up on you. Just ignore it. I am.”
    “Shouldn’t you at least tell your grandfather?”
    “No!” Abby lowered her voice. “He’ll tell Mama, and she’ll tell the sheriff. Then they’ll all make me back off looking for Ella. Besides, Mason will deny he knew anything about it.”
    “The jerk as much as threatened you.”
    “I’m sure he thought it was funny. Just drop it.”

Chapter 10
    Raleigh Country Sheriff Virgil Granger sat in the glider on the wraparound porch of his Victorian home on Puckett Street, holding a glass of sweet tea and listening to the happy chatter of neighbor kids riding their Big Wheels up and down the driveway across the street. They were still going strong, even though it was dark except for the glow of the streetlight.
    It didn’t seem that many summers ago that his own sons were outside doing the very same thing. Now that they were grown, he and Jill Beth didn’t need all this space. But any time he hinted about putting the place on the market, she looked up at him with those sentimental puppy eyes that reminded him it was more than just a house—it was where they had raised their triplet boys from infancy to adulthood.
    Virgil took a sip of tea. The house begged for paint. It was too much for him to tackle alone, and his sons had offered to come for a long weekend to help him get the job done.
    Virgil chuckled, remembering the fiasco the first time he painted the boys’ rooms. Robby, Ricky, and Reece were eight years old and eager to watch. Ricky stepped in the paint pan and ruined a new pair of expensive sneakers. Reece and Robby got into a tug-of-war over the dog’s leash, and one of them finally let go. The other fell on his behind, knocking a half-full bucket of paint off a stool, the contents splattering both misbehavers—and the family’s beagle—with a rich shade of yellow.
    Virgil heard the front door open.
    Jill Beth stepped out on the porch, dressed in her pink bathrobe and emitting the sweet fragrance of gardenia bubble bath. She held up his cell phone. “It’s Chief Deputy Mann.”
    Virgil kissed her hand and took the phone. “What’s up, Kevin?”
    “Duncan, Hobbs, and I responded to a 9-1-1 call from a teenage couple that said they found skeletal remains in the woods off Smithville Road—up yonder on the mountain. Sure enough, there’re remains up here. Way too decomposed to make any kind of ID—even gender. But judging by the size of the skull, it had to be an adult.”
    “Why were the kids in the woods?”
    “Said they were owl watching .” Kevin snorted. “Hey, I’m just the messenger. Anyhow, they were trudging through the woods and spotted the bones with the flashlight. They thought it was animal remains until they saw the skull. They ran back to their truck and called 9-1-1. They’re still pretty shook up. Duncan and Hobbs are fixin’ to take them to the station and wait for their parents to arrive. That’ll give them a chance to calm down before we question them further.”
    “What about CSI?”
    “On the way. Emergency responders are coming out of the woodwork. I’ll bet you can see the lights flashing from down in Foggy Ridge.”
    “All right,” Virgil said. “You’re in charge. Preserve the scene. I don’t want any missteps. It’s hard to say what we’re dealing with.”
    “Wouldn’t it be something if this turned out to be Micah Cummings?”
    “That’s the understatement of the century.” Virgil looked up into Jill Beth’s wide, questioning eyes, his pulse soaring, his curiosity on tilt. Did he dare hope that