Last Light

  Doug reached Sam’s house on River Oak Drive, and saw the man’s mud-covered pickup sitting in the driveway. The front door was open, so he knocked and stepped inside. Six men, sitting in the living room, looked up at him. Brad was not among them.

  Sam welcomed him in. “Come on in, Doug. You know these guys? Alan Newman, John Henderson, Mike Hinton, Lou Grantham, and Paul Burlin.” Each man stood to shake Doug’s hand. “We’re all members of the same hunting group, but we wanted to bring you in since you’re kind of taking the lead in the neighborhood.”

  Doug recognized some of them from the meeting the other night. The men sat back down, and Doug took the empty place on the couch.

  “Doug, we’re glad you came,” Sam said. “Me and the guys were just doing a little strategizing about how we’re gonna protect these streets since the sheriff is failing to do his job.”

  “Good,” Doug said. “That’s what I was hoping we’d do when Brad brought it up at the meeting last night.”

  He noticed the looks pass among the men. Sam went on. “We decided the way to go about this is to set up nightly patrols for a while until we catch the killer. If we see somebody suspicious, we’ll search their property.”

  “Search their property?” Doug sat straighter. “We don’t have the right to do that, do we? I mean, that’s the sheriff’s job.”

  “We ain’t got time to worry about the law right now,” Lou Grantham said. Doug regarded the man, taking in his western-style shirt and the big belt buckle that sported a mustang. Grantham looked like he belonged on a Texas ranch rather than in an Alabama suburb. “We got to root out the problem before anybody else winds up dead.”

  “And we don’t plan to wait for the justice system to act when we catch the guy.”

  Doug looked at John Henderson, who spoke in a low, modulated voice. “What do you mean?”

  “When we catch the guy, he won’t make it ’til trial.”

  “Nope,” Sam agreed. “We won’t bother the sheriff with it. We’ll take care of it ourselves.”

  Doug shot to his feet and looked down at the men. “We can’t do that! We’re three days into a power outage, and you guys are acting like the only solution is anarchy. Yes, there’s a killer somewhere, but we can’t prowl around the neighborhood with our guns drawn, kicking in doors and searching homes.”

  Sam’s friendly look turned hard. “Who’s gonna stop us?”

  Doug recognized the threat in his tone. “Look, before we start taking the law into our own hands, let’s get Brad Caldwell involved. He’s an attorney. He can advise us on what rights we have and which ones will get us locked up. Besides, I thought he was heading up the neighborhood watch. Does he know about this meeting?”

  Again, looks passed among the men.

  “We don’t need some black ambulance chaser telling us how to protect our families,” Sam muttered.

  Now Doug understood. They were forging ahead with Brad’s idea, but leaving him out. “Are you seriously telling me that you’d deny the help of a very capable and willing man because he’s black?”

  “He don’t even belong in this neighborhood in the first place.” Lou crossed his cowboy boots as if that settled the matter.

  “Why not? He’s a good man with a great family. Why shouldn’t they live here?”

  Sam stood up, looking eye to eye with Doug. “We don’t trust Brad Caldwell. Now, either you’re with us or you’re against us.”

  Doug wasn’t going to back down. “I just want an explanation. Why don’t you trust him? And you’ve got to have a reason better than the color of his skin.”

  “You want a reason?” John Henderson’s low, calm voice belied the hatred in his eyes. “His kind thrive on criminal activity. It’s natural to make him the first suspect when things start happening.”

  “No, it’s not!” Doug stared at the men for a moment. Didn’t they realize this was the twenty-first century, and not 1960? “You’re out of your mind. Brad Caldwell is not the killer.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because, he wouldn’t do that. I’d suspect any one of you before I’d suspect him.” The second the words were out of his mouth, he knew they were a mistake.

  Two more of the men got to their feet, staring him down. What would they do? Jump him right here in Sam’s living room? Clearly, it was time to leave.

  “Look, I don’t want any part of what you’re doing here.” He started to the door, then turned back at the threshold. “And I’m giving you a warning. If I see any of you breaking the law, I’m going to the sheriff. The last thing this neighborhood needs is six more gun-wielding yahoos with bad intentions.”

  He almost expected them to come after him as he marched down the sidewalk toward home, but none of them did. They were probably already marking his address as the first door they would kick in. Either that, or they’d burn a cross in his yard. Let them try. He’d be ready for them.

  twenty-eight

  Jeff’s headache got worse as the numbness around his stitches wore off, and his mouth felt full of cotton as the temperature and humidity rose. His dad had put him to work in the garage, fastening wheels on the containers they’d bought. Thanks to duct tape and a dolly, he managed to convert the new garbage can into something that rolled.

  Deni sat on the floor, duct taping skateboards to the bottom of some of the larger Rubbermaid tubs.

  “Hey, Jeff.”

  Jeff looked up and saw Mandy standing just outside the garage. “Hey, Mandy.” He got to his feet, grinning like an idiot. After his embarrassing exit last night, he figured she’d never again give him the time of day.

  “Whatcha doing?”

  “Working.” He glanced at Deni, wishing she weren’t here. “Mandy, this is my sister Deni.”

  The girls exchanged greetings, then Mandy turned back to Jeff and lowered her voice. “Is everything okay after last night? Your dad looked really mad.”

  “He was. I was supposed to take second watch and I forgot and let the time get away from me.”

  “It was my fault, wasn’t it?” she asked.

  Deni looked up at them, a smirk on her face.

  Jeff shot her a look. “Don’t you have a zit to pop or something?”

  “Hey, I’m just sitting here minding my own business.”

  Jeff left his garbage can and walked out of the garage to where Mandy stood on the driveway. Lowering his voice, he said, “I admit, you distracted me a little.”

  Her grin said she was flattered by that.

  “Hey, check this out.” He turned his head and showed her his wound.

  She caught her breath. “What happened to you? Did your dad do that?”

  Deni laughed. “Our dad? He might have wanted to beat him, but that’s not his style. He’s more into psychological torture.”

  Jeff’s look warned her to shut up. “No, it wasn’t my dad. I kind of got mugged at Wal-Mart this morning.”

  “Really? I heard it was a madhouse there.”

  “Yeah, I got whacked in the back of my head. Doctor had to give me stitches.”

  She winced. “Ouch. What were they trying to get?”

  “Our bikes.”

  “Did they get them?”

  “No way. I fought them off.”

  Admiration sparkled in her eyes. “Good for you.”

  “Is it?” He set his hands on his hips. “I don’t know. I was ready to shoot their heads off, but for what? A few stupid bikes.”

  “They’re not stupid bikes,” Deni said. “They’re our family’s only transportation. What else would you do? Let them have them?”

  He wished she’d go into the house. “I wasn’t talking to you, but since you insist on listening . . . I’m saying that I fought for the bikes this morning because something inside me reacted, and in the heat of that moment, I would have killed to protect our property.”

  Mandy seemed moved by his honesty. “We fight for what’s important, Jeff. You did the right thing.”

  “Yeah, but if
we’re going to fight to the death for something, shouldn’t it be something worth dying . . . or killing for? Would you kill someone for a bike, Deni?”

  Deni winked at Mandy. “Depends. Is it a ten-speed or one of those no-frills kind?”

  “So you’d kill for the frills?” he asked.

  Mandy laughed, which only encouraged Deni. “Yeah, maybe.” Deni rolled her eyes and headed for the door into the house. “Right now I’d kill for a glass of water, so don’t get in my way.”

  Mandy giggled as Deni went in. Jeff didn’t find it funny. “She is so clueless.”

  “I like her. She’s cool.”

  Her giggle was good medicine. It was the best he’d felt all day. “I’m glad you came by.”

  “Hey, why don’t you come back to Zach’s tonight? We’re going to be over there swimming again.”

  Jeff saw his dad coming up the driveway, and his smile faded. “No, I can’t. I’m in enough trouble already, and my family needs me.”

  “All night? Can’t you come for part of it?”

  “No, I’d better not.”

  His father had an angry look on his face as he came into the garage. Jeff hoped he hadn’t reconsidered grounding him.

  “Dad, this is Mandy.”

  His dad wore a guarded look as he reached out to shake her hand. “Hi, Mandy. Nice to meet you.”

  Jeff braced himself, expecting him to comment on meeting her in Jeff’s lap last night. But he didn’t, and his silence was almost as awkward.

  A hint of red crept into Mandy’s cheeks. “Uh, well, I guess I should go.”

  “Yeah,” Jeff said. “I’ll see you around, okay?”

  She smiled. “I’d tell you to call me, but . . .”

  It was enough that she wanted him to.

  “See ya.” He watched her walk away. When he turned back to his father, he saw the disapproval in his eyes. His joy faded.

  “Dad, she’s the best-looking girl at school. I’ve tried to get her attention forever, and now I think she likes me.”

  “I’d say she does, judging from the way she was acting last night.” He looked at the wheels on the garbage can and rolled it to see how it worked.

  “Dad, she’s a nice girl. I know you might not have thought so last night, but she is. It’s not like she just plopped down into my lap. I pulled her there. It was my fault.”

  “I agree. I blame you completely.”

  Jeff sighed. He couldn’t win.

  “Nice job here.” His dad’s face softened. “Let’s try it out and head down to the lake. We need more water.”

  Jeff felt his father’s anger still radiating between them, even though his words suggested he’d forgiven him. But why else could he be in such a sour mood? He hated it, but all he could do was earn back his respect. And he was starting to realize that might take longer than he’d hoped.

  twenty-nine

  Doug kept what had happened at Sam’s house to himself, since it wouldn’t make the family feel any more secure to know that a bunch of angry, racist rednecks with guns were “protecting” their streets at night. But the conversation ate at him. That afternoon, as he got the family busy taking inventory of their food, he found his mind sinking back into that maddening conversation. He couldn’t believe what jerks some of his neighbors were.

  Trying to keep his mind focused, he went over the list the family had come up with. The provisions looked grim.

  “We need to make up some very rigid menus, guys,” he said. “No snacking. We have to make this food last as long as we can.”

  “Yeah, Jeff,” Deni said. “He broke into the potato chips earlier.”

  “Hey, I’m not the only one who ate them,” Jeff said.

  “You opened the bag.”

  “And I forced them into your mouth and moved your jaw to make you chew?”

  Doug sighed. “That’s enough, you two. I’m serious. No more chips, unless they’re on the menu.”

  “Then you’d better tell Mom to stop giving stuff away.”

  At Deni’s remark, Doug looked up at Kay. “Giving what away?”

  She sighed. “I gave some of our canned vegetables to Amber. I’m worried about her, Doug. She has to feed those kids somehow.”

  “Well, you have to feed us,” Deni said.

  As much as he understood Kay’s helping the woman next door, he found himself more on Deni’s side. She was right. They didn’t need to be giving away their food. He studied the list. “We need to be realistic. This thing hit us unprepared. We don’t have enough.”

  Deni pulled up and sat on the counter. “Dad, you have to be wrong about how bad things are. The power will be back on before we know it. It has to.”

  Beth started spinning a quarter on the table. “Hopefully before the next episode of Thunder Down Under.”

  “That’s Thursday night,” Doug said. “I can almost promise you nothing will be resolved before then.”

  Deni didn’t want to hear it. “I’m leaving Friday, and that’s all there is to it.”

  “In what?” Jeff asked.

  “I don’t know, but I’m going. And before I leave, I have a million wedding details to settle. I have to pick out the cake, order invitations, shop for my tiara.”

  Jeff moaned. “Give me a break! A crown? You’re letting her wear a crown?”

  Kay chuckled. “It’s her wedding, Jeff.”

  “Shows what you know about weddings,” Beth piped in. “That’s what brides wear now.”

  “I thought they wore those stupid veil things.”

  Deni looked disgusted. “They wear the tiara with the veil, moron.”

  He grinned. “Tell the truth. You’re really just marrying the guy for the crown. It’s not him you love, it’s the power.”

  She threw a pot holder at him. “Why don’t you shut up?”

  Jeff laughed. “Well, you gotta admit the guy isn’t even your type. He’s a workaholic and treats you like you ought to feel privileged he gives you any time at all.”

  Doug started to stop him, but these were things that he’d wanted to say for some time. He met Kay’s eyes, but she didn’t intervene, either.

  “He’s a mover and a shaker, okay?” Deni threw back. “That’s what attracts me to him.”

  “Attraction is one thing, but marriage is another.”

  Doug stared at Jeff. When did his son get so wise?

  “And you’re a mover and a shaker, too, but you always have time for him whenever he can fit you into his busy schedule.”

  Deni threw her chin up. “You clearly have no concept of what an important person he is. And I’m not going to be some whining housewife who needs her husband’s undivided attention twenty-four/seven!”

  Doug braced himself as Kay flinched at that comment.

  “Excuse me, young lady?” Kay said. “Are you insinuating that there’s something wrong with being a housewife?”

  Deni backed down then. “No, Mom. I didn’t mean you’re whiny and attention-starved. Just that I want to do more with my life. I want to make a difference.”

  Kay’s jaw dropped. “And I haven’t done anything with my life? I haven’t made a difference?”

  Doug tried to suppress his grin at the hole Deni had dug for herself. How in the world would she get out of it now?

  “I didn’t say that. Did I say that?”

  “Sounded like you said that,” Beth muttered.

  Jeff crossed his arms and grinned. “That’s what I heard.”

  Her siblings leaned back in their chairs, enjoying her predicament.

  She took a deep breath and started over. “I’m glad you were a stay-at-home mom. It did make a difference. I wasn’t making a comment on what you do. I was just saying that I’m strong enough to handle a powerful man who puts his work first.”

  Her words punctured something in Doug’s hopes for her, and the air spilled out in a long sigh.

  Kay just got up and grabbed the broom, and started to sweep the kitchen.

  “Don’t you
believe me, Mom? That I didn’t mean to insult you or any other housewives?”

  “I worry about your attitude, Deni,” she said. “I worry about your expectations. I worry about your arrogance.”

  “Me? Arrogant?” She grunted. “You’ve got to be kidding.”