The Blood of Patriots Read Online Free Page A

hoping I get to keep one of them so I’ll have a place to sleep.”
    â€œThere’s always Al’s place,” said the man sitting to his right. “It’s a center for the community, right?”
    They both smiled thinly and that’s when Ward got it: they were joking about the Al Huda Center he’d seen at the edge of town.
    Ward left. Despite the warm sunlight filling a cloudless sky, and air pure as heaven’s own breath, the place felt like the devil’s armpit, close and foul.
    And he had been there less than an hour.

C HAPTER T HREE
    Being an undercover cop, it felt strange to Ward to suddenly have notoriety. He wondered what kind of reception awaited him at Joanne’s house.
    â€œShe’ll hear me out,” he said to himself as he stopped to book a room at the Basalt Regency Inn then drove up Ridge Road into the Rocky Mountain foothills. Joanne was still angry at Ward but she didn’t hate him. “Guarded” would be the best description of their exchanges.
    He drove with the window still open, past the tall lodgepole pines and taller Scotches—some of them looked dead to him—and the slopes covered with Cascade Purple rock cress. The carpet of perennials went on for acres in all directions as he ascended, adding a fragrant tang to the air. He didn’t dislike the aroma, but it didn’t speak to him. He preferred the smell of hot asphalt being laid over a ruptured pipe hole. He had always responded to brick and concrete, the fingerprints of human industry, rather than the seasonal, third party works of nature. Cities were constantly evolving to suit people. Nature demanded that you adapt.
    The homes on the ridge had plenty of land and shade from both the peaks and trees. The temperature had dropped noticeably as he reached the large cabin. The valley and river below were still sunlit and he took a moment to take in the view. That was something else cities had over nature. When there was trouble somewhere, even from this distance, you knew it. The way traffic flowed, the speed and density of the pedestrian population, the telltale haze of a fire, the sounds of sirens. From here, everything in Basalt appeared just fine.
    He turned into the gravel driveway. Joanne came out to meet him, alerted by the crunch of the tires.
    She looked better than ever. Tall, slender, red hair held on her head with a clip. Even in a sweatshirt and torn jeans, she had an elegance about her. But her skin was a healthy color, not the pallor it had in the city, and she wasn’t hurrying. She was smiling slightly—a good hostess smile, not an I’m-really-glad-to-see-you one.
    He got out and they kissed on the cheek. There was no embrace. She took a step back and folded her arms.
    â€œMegan is out back with Hunter,” she said. “I wanted to talk to you first.”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œWhat happened?”
    â€œI wasn’t acting out or anything—”
    â€œI’m not charging you,” she interrupted. “I’m just—asking.”
    â€œSorry. It’s been all defense the last few days.” He sucked down a breath. “I was trying to get an unlicensed vendor to move along. I put my hands on his shoulders. Rookie cops busted me for assault, the media tried me, here I am.”
    â€œThe news reports said you were asked to resign.”
    â€œIt was recommended,” he replied. “But—we haven’t talked about what part of my pension I get to keep. It’s all on a disk or chip or whatever the hell it is that I haven’t looked at yet. Don’t worry, though. I know what my responsibilities are.”
    â€œI wasn’t thinking about that,” she said.
    The alimony had ended when she remarried, but he still had child support and college to go with Megan.
    â€œMegan know?” Ward asked.
    She nodded.
    â€œHow’d she find out?”
    â€œIn the car, coming home from school, on her