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Camino Winds (Camino Island, #2) by John Grisham Read Online (FREE)

A waitress finally made it over and poured coffee. Lindsey ordered an omelet and Raymond asked for pancakes. When she was gone he said, “Brittany told me something interesting last night. She said that the nonresponders, she calls them Nons, get the best treatment of all. They are fed on time. They get the best meds. Their beds are cleaner. They get more attention from the staff. The care for the other patients is pretty lousy, even abusive at times, but not the Nons.”

“They’re more valuable,” Lindsey said. “The longer they live, the more money they draw.” Raymond Jumper was just a freelance investigator who had never heard of Nelson Kerr and didn’t have a clue as to who was behind the fiction. He was being paid a hundred dollars an hour to do a job and was discouraged from asking questions.


Lindsey said, “I want Brittany to swap syringes. See if she can borrow an empty one, give it to you so we’ll know the make and model, then she can take it back. No crime there. Ask her if she can get the name of the formula. Our plan will be to load up one of ours, hand it to her in exchange for a real one. She’ll make the swap. I doubt if anyone will be watching.”

Jumper grimaced and shook his head. He said, “I don’t know, might take some time. She’s not ready yet. How about your girl?”

“She’s not ready either. I think Brittany is our best bet.”

“I’ll get it done. I may have to sleep with her, but I’ll get it done.”


Jumper’s phone rattled and he yanked it out of his pocket. Lindsey picked up hers, and for ten minutes they returned texts and emails. The food arrived and they finally put down their phones. Jumper said, “Got a question.”

“All right.”

“Why not just hack into the nursing home’s records and get all the information you want? Its security is lousy. Any decent hacker could do the job overnight. I got some friends.”

“It’s against the law, plain and simple.” Lindsey realized she sounded a bit too pious. The truth was that they had hacked before and would do so again. Their hackers were far better than anything they faced. But the real truth was that the mysterious drug they were looking for would not be in any patient’s records.




On a warm breezy day in early March, Bruce was sitting at his desk and enjoying his coffee as he opened the daily mail for the store, something he still insisted on doing after almost twenty-four years. He also insisted on opening each of the countless boxes of new books that arrived three times a week. He loved the smell and feel of each new book, and he especially enjoyed finding the perfect place on the shelves for each one. And he habitually boxed up all the unsold books and sent them back to the publishers as returns, acts of defeat that still depressed him.