Last Light (26 page)

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Authors: Terri Blackstock

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BOOK: Last Light
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“Dad, why can’t we sleep late every now and then?” Deni muttered. “Everybody else in their right mind is sleeping.”

“Yeah—” Beth yawned—“why can’t we just sleep?”

“Because we have work to do,” Doug said. “We need to get an early start.”

“Work?” Jeff spoke with his mouth full. “Dad, if I had more sleep I could work
harder.
I don’t even get a whole night’s sleep. Shouldn’t I get to sleep in?”

Doug almost felt guilty. It was true that Jeff had it worse than the rest of them. But he needed his help more than the others.

He looked from one child to the other. How would he ever motivate them? Deni looked hungover, as if she’d just come in from a wild party the night before. Jeff looked almost as bad. He hunched over his Pop-Tart, his hair stringing into his eyes. He needed to shave as badly as Doug did.

They could all stand a bath. All except Deni, whose hair looked cleaner than the rest of theirs. The sweat from the last few days had left a sour smell on their skin and in their clothes. Their sponge baths with lake water had left a lot to be desired. Doug was glad when Kay opened the door to let some air circulate.

Beth looked bored, as if she had little interest in whatever her parents were going to say, and Logan, the one who seemed the most awake, flipped through a comic book he’d brought from his room.

Doug reached over and took it away from him. “I need to talk to you, and I want you to pay attention.”

All eyes settled on him, annoyed.

“Guys, I’ve been thinking about our situation. It’s been ten days and the power hasn’t come back on. I’m guessing it’s not likely to any time soon. Some people are getting desperate by now, and others are hoarding.”

“People like us?” Beth said.

“Yes, exactly,” he said, proud that she’d seen it. “People like us. But God dealt with your mom and me during the night, and we’ve realized that, as Christians, we’re supposed to act differently.”

“Uh-oh.” Deni wiped her fingers on her paper towel. “Here it comes.” Sighing, she tipped her head. “Different how?”

“I’m going to tell you. But first, is it all right for me to assume that everyone at this table is a Christian?”

They looked at each other as if they were insulted.

“Deni?” he asked.

“Well, yeah. You were there when I went down the aisle and got baptized.”

“Was it real? In your heart, real?”

She huffed. “Yes, Dad. I’m a Christian, all right? You raised me that way. I’ve been indoctrinated.”

Doug didn’t know how to interpret that. “Wow. That sounds really sincere.”

She looked away. “I’m sorry. It’s just that you can’t really be raised in this family without being a Christian, you know? That’s all I meant.”

“Being from a Christian family doesn’t make you a Christian any more than sitting in a garage—”

“Makes you a car,” Jeff finished. They’d heard it a million times.

Doug looked at Jeff now, since he’d jumped into the conversation. “And since you understand that principle, where do you stand?”

“I’m a Christian, Dad.” He sounded as defensive as his sister. “It’s not like we’re drug addicts. We haven’t given you reason to doubt us.”

“I’m not doubting. I just want to hear it.”

Beth spoke up. “
I’m
a Christian, Dad.”

“Good, Beth.”

“See?” She made a face at her brother. “He didn’t even have to question me.”

Doug met Kay’s eyes. She shook her head.

“What about you, Logan?”

Logan got on his knees in his chair and leaned his elbows on the table. “Hello–o. Weren’t you there when I got baptized at Easter?”

“Yes, I was there.”

Deni gave him that sour look she reserved for those she loved most. “Hey, punk, you can come out of that water just as dirty as you went in.”

“Well, I didn’t, moron!” he shouted across the table. “I came up clean. Didn’t I, Mom?”

Kay didn’t answer. She looked almost amused, but struggled not to show it. “You were saying, honey?”

Doug took back the baton. “Okay, so it’s established, pretty much, that we’re all Christians.”

“You didn’t ask Mom,” Jeff pointed out.

“I’m confident in your mother’s sincerity, since she puts up with me. That’s the greatest act of charity I’ve ever seen.”

The kids moaned, and Beth pretended to gag.

“So if we’re all Christians, then we’ll all be interested in what the Bible says about our situation.”

“The Bible talks about this?” Deni asked. “Where?”

“In the Sermon on the Mount.” He turned his Bible to the passage he and Kay had been reading, and read to them about being salt and light, trusting God to provide for them, giving away what people asked for. When he finished, he looked up at the four of them.

“What are you gonna make us do?” Jeff asked.

Doug left the Bible open, but he crossed his hands over it. “In light of what we’ve just read, our family is going to approach this thing differently today. We’re going to be proactive. We’re going to think of this as an opportunity instead of a crisis.”

Deni propped her chin on her hand and narrowed her eyes. “An opportunity for what?”

“An opportunity to shine for Christ. We’re going to realize that God put us here for a purpose, in this exact time, in this exact neighborhood, and we’re going to fulfill that purpose.”

“Like Esther,” Kay said. “Maybe we’re here for such a time as this.”

“Esther who?” Deni asked.


Queen
Esther from the Bible, genius,” Jeff said.

Doug sighed, but pressed on. “It’s going to take all of us, working together. Today, we’re going around to every house in the neighborhood. We’re going to ask everyone to write down what they need and what they can share. Then we’re going to tell them to come to the lake after dinner for another neighborhood meeting. We’ll work out the exchanges, talk about what’s happening, maybe get the sheriff to come for an update.”

Deni folded her arms. “What if they need what we have?”

“Then we’ll give it to them. Or maybe someone else can. We’ll try to work it out so that no one has to do without, but everyone has what they need.”

“There are a lot of houses out here, Dad,” Logan said. “We’re gonna do all of them?”

“That’s right. I looked in my files where I keep all the Homeowners’ Association newsletters. We have sixty-three homes here. We’ll go in groups of two. Deni, you and Jeff go together. I’ll take Beth, and Mom will take Logan.”

“I want to go with Jeff!” Logan said. “I’m not some little kid who needs to be with his mommy.”

“And please don’t make me go with Jeff!” Deni cried. “Come on, Dad, he’ll embarrass me. Let me take Beth.”

“Yeah, I want to go with Deni!”

Kay looked at Doug. “What does it really matter?”

Doug shrugged. “All right. Jeff and Logan, Beth and Deni, and Mom and me. But I don’t want any of you alone at any time. Don’t split up. Got it? And don’t go into anyone’s house.”

They all agreed.

“Each of you take a legal pad for writing down things that people tell you. Needs they have, things they can share. But don’t try to carry the stuff yourself. Tell them to bring what they can share to the lake tonight if they can. If they can’t, we’ll try to work it out where they can make the exchanges themselves. That way we get everybody involved.”

“This is a good plan,” Logan said, catching the vision.

“It could work,” Deni conceded.

Doug felt encouraged by that. They sat down with the map of the neighborhood and divided up the streets. Then they armed each pair with legal pads and pens.

Before he sent them out, they stood in a circle, holding hands and praying that God would protect them and use them for his purposes today.

 

 
 

Deni was one of the first to arrive at the lake that afternoon, despite her exhaustion from the grueling day of getting the word out. She’d planned to stay home while the neighbors had their swap meet, but then her father came home with news that Sheriff Scarbrough had agreed to come to answer questions about the murder investigation. Almost as important, Hank Huckabee, the Homeowners’ Association president, had just gotten back into town. He’d been in Washington, D.C., when the power went out, and was full of news about the state of the country. He planned to share it all tonight.

Did that mean the power was out there, too? That Craig was as helpless as she? And if Hank had made it here from there, could Craig be on his way?

It seemed to take an eternity for everyone to convene and set up their families on their lawn chairs and blankets. Since most had heard about the two speakers, the turnout was greater than it had been at the last meeting. Even with the breeze blowing across the small lake, the crowd packing onto that community lot seemed to make the heat more sweltering.

Finally, the meeting was brought to order, and Sheriff Scarbrough stepped up on the truck bed of an F150 that someone had pushed onto the grass. The big man with the tired, no-nonsense face wore a soiled, wrinkled uniform with sweat rings under the armpits. He yelled through an old-fashioned megaphone to make his voice heard.

“Thanks for inviting me here. I know you’re all interested in knowing what we’re doing to find the Abernathys’ killer or killers, and whoever it is that broke into Mrs. Grant’s home the other night. While we haven’t yet solved these crimes, we are actively working, given our limited resources, to find this person and bring him to justice. Right now, we’re asking for leads. If you know of anyone who was out that night and looked suspicious, we need to know about it.”

He stopped and mopped his forehead, then took a drink of bottled water. “I’ve asked Hank to put up a message board down here at the lake. You can use that to post leads, and we’ll check it each day and follow up with visits to interview you. If you don’t want to post it publicly, you can come to my office on West Street and tell us in private. We’re interested in anything you have to offer. Suspicions, anything you might have seen that night, or any other evidence you’d like to bring us. We’ll follow up on everything that has substance.”

“Sheriff—” Brenda Grant waved her hand in the air—“are you doing anything to protect our neighborhood?”

“I’m sending bicycle patrols through here at night, but as you know, we’re shorthanded, and this isn’t the only neighborhood in our jurisdiction that’s had a rise in crime. We’re doing the best we can. Meanwhile, I urge all of you to diligently guard your own property and tell us if you see anything suspicious.”

The crowd erupted with dozens of questions, and Sheriff Scarbrough tried to answer them all. Deni looked around at the rapt faces, looking for a sign of guilt or evil. Her eyes rested on Brad Caldwell, and she remembered how he’d been watching her a few days ago.

But her dad sat next to him as if they were big buddies.

Brad seemed so concerned as the sheriff droned on about the investigation, and with his boys sitting at his feet next to Logan, he even seemed innocent. That’s why she hadn’t brought it up to her parents. She was probably overreacting.

When the sheriff stepped off the truck, Hank took his place.

Thoughts of the murders faded into the back of her mind as she sat on the edge of her seat, waiting for news from D.C.

Deni recognized Hank as one of the joggers who ran every morning. For years, he’d jogged past and waved as she’d gotten in her car to go to school. The fifty-something corporate attorney had always had a lean, athletic build, but now he was skin and bones, and his face was as tanned and wrinkled as used grocery sacks.

“Thanks, everybody,” he said. “I can tell you I’ve never been so glad to see home in my life. It’s been a long couple of weeks. I think I’ll start off by telling you about my trip and the things I saw, and then I’ll open it to questions and answers.”

Deni leaned in to hear every word. Hank slid his hands into the pockets of his baggy shorts and cleared his throat. “I was in our nation’s capital on business when the power went out. Just like here, nothing worked.”

So it was true. Craig was in the dark, too.

“Cars are stalled in the roads there, too. Everywhere I went, it’s the same. Everybody’s in the same boat, and nobody knows what happened. I hung around there for a few days, trying to find out what was going on. And then someone posted signs out in front of each of the government buildings, with a message from the White House. I wrote down the notice.”

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