Free The Graves of Plague Canyon (The Downwinders Book 3) by Michael Richan

replied. “I said
yes.”
    “I take that as a yes, you’re interested,” Carma said.
“Unless you’re leading him on for some other reason.”
    “Well, he might come in handy at some point,” Deem said, “but
no, I’m not leading him on. I’m looking forward to it.”
    “Good for you, my dear,” Carma said. She reached into a
pocket on her dress and removed a small square foil, then placed it on the
table and pushed it toward Deem. “Here you go, with my best wishes.”
    Deem looked at the item on the table — it was a condom.
    “Carma, I’m nowhere near that point,” she said, looking down
at the condom with surprise.
    “You’re a pretty young girl, and he’s a return missionary who
doesn’t wear garments,” Carma said. “It’s likely to get out of hand before you
can do anything to stop it. Tuck it away and you’ll thank me later.”
    Winn walked into the room. “I’ve got something!”
    Deem reached out and quickly grabbed the condom from the
table, sliding it down and into her lap.
    Winn paused. “What was that?”
    “Nothing,” Deem said.
    “You did not ask to be excused from the table, young man,”
Carma said.
    “Oh, I apologize Carma, I completely forgot,” Winn replied.
“But I’ve got some info. There’s no A. Free in Washington anymore, but there is
a John Free. A man named Aldus Free used to live in the same house, so I’m
thinking John might be his son. I say we go pay him a visit.”
    “May I be excused, Carma?” Deem asked.
    “Of course, my dear. And thank you.”
     
    ▪ ▪ ▪
     
     “Once or twice a year, someone shows up wanting to talk to
my dad,” John said, standing in the doorway of his single level ranch style
home in Washington City.
    “He used to live here?” Winn asked.
    “Yes, until we had to move him into an assisted care
facility. Are you both… you know?”
    “You know?” Deem repeated.
    John looked over his shoulder, back into the house, and then
stepped out to the front porch next to Deem and Winn, pulling the door closed
behind him.
    “You know, like my dad… was…” John said.
    “Was?” Winn asked.
    “Listen, my sister insists that my dad had some skills, back
in the day, you know, and that we were supposed to inherit those skills, but
nothing has ever come of it. I wouldn’t believe her if people didn’t keep
showing up here asking to see him. He was a janitor at Dixie Academy for
heaven’s sake; why would people who didn’t know him keep showing up, wanting to
talk to him?”
    “But we did know him,” Winn lied.
    “I highly doubt that,” John replied, looking them over.
“You’re not even half my age.”
    “I think your father has some geographical knowledge of an
area I’ve been exploring,” Deem said, “and I wanted to talk to him about it.”
    “Ah, you saw a sign, did you?” John asked. “It’s always a
sign. Listen, you’ll never get in to see my father. The facility doesn’t allow
guests from off the street. You have to be on an approved list. And I’ll put
your name on that list, and let you go see him, if you do something for me.”
    “What?” Winn asked.
    “Come with me,” John said, opening the door to his house and
walking inside. Deem and Winn followed.
    The living room was trashed and the dining room beyond looked
even more out of control. A woman’s head appeared from around a corner.
    “Who are these people?” the woman asked.
    “Shut up and finish dinner!” John barked back, following a
rabbit trail through the trash on the floor to a hallway, and taking them down
to the last room. They snaked past stacks of boxes and piles of clothes.
    “We’re still going through my father’s things,” John said as
they entered the back room. It was similarly trashed. John walked to a dresser
and pulled a drawer open. It didn’t contain what he was looking for, so he
pulled open another drawer and kept searching. On the third drawer, he removed
a small wooden box in the shape of a cube, about six