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office, and Red repeated his request. When he finished, the small voice on the other end of the line informed him that the rescue team had just discovered a family of four in the basement of a small house. They had drowned. |
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Gleason sighed. He knew there would be more. It was just a matter of time until they uncovered them. "Any ident?" he probed. |
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"Keep lookin' for Freeman and Miller," Gleason reminded his contact. "I need both of them." He stood momentarily with the mike still in his hand, staring out at the shimmering heat rising off the baking sand. ''That's it," he grumbled and tossed the defenseless piece of gear onto the seat of his car. |
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Chesterton stepped forward. "Red," he began hesitantly. |
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The sheriff nodded. Merle had apparently gotten himself ready. |
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Gleason stomped out his cigar in the damp sand and sniffed at the stagnant air. "Uh-huh," he admitted. "Been tryin' to ignore it." |
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Carlos watched the two men exchange knowing glances and started to laugh. "Okay, you two, let the new guy in on it. What is it I'm supposed to be smellin'?" |
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"The worst smell of all," Gleason said matter-of-factly. "Death. Ain't much doubt |
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