Shadow in Serenity (25 page)

“Man, you scared me,” he said in a fierce whisper. “What if I’d never seen you again?”

She pulled out of his arms and hit his chest. “You left
without a word! Just took off! What was I supposed to think? You couldn’t have any meetings with bankers on a Sunday, and you hadn’t mentioned going the night before. You were going to confess to the church, but you didn’t. And you
checked out of the motel!
” She hit him again.

He grabbed her hands to protect himself. “I called you from the road around one that afternoon, after I knew you were home from church. But you were gone, and nobody knew where you were.”

“Doc told me —”

“Let me explain. I couldn’t sleep that night, Carny, and about four in the morning I got a call from Eric Hart. He said he wanted to see me. He was in Dallas doing a charity concert the night before, and he hadn’t gone to bed. He’d been thinking about the park. He asked me to come meet with him before he left for Nashville. And I knew that if I presented his commitment to the town before I confessed, they’d be more likely to believe that I could really do this. I didn’t want to wake you up and get you to fly me there on a second’s notice, especially with Jason asleep and everything, so I rushed to the Odessa airport and caught the first plane out. But I wouldn’t have gone if I’d known you’d think I skipped out on my promises. You could have called.”

“I was furious! I didn’t want to talk to you. I thought all the God talk was just a farce.” Closing her eyes, she leaned her forehead against his chest. All that grief. All that misery. All that soul-searching. And all because she had been so sure he was going to let her down.

“You know, Carny, you’re not the only one God can change and make it stick.”

She saw the other pilot getting out of the plane, saw Jack bounding down the steps. Before she could answer, Logan kissed her, a desperate, ravenous kiss salty with her tears.

When he pulled back, he whispered, “There’s so much I have to tell you.”

She grabbed fistfuls of his shirt. “Tell me now.”

Wiping her wet cheek with his thumb, he said, “Well, let’s start with my fear that I couldn’t be the kind of person who wasn’t fighting God or conning His people. The past is so powerful, Carny, and when nothing’s ever come easy except a scam … when the only person who ever cared was a grifter himself … when the only accomplishments that amounted to anything were the stings we pulled …”

“You start thinking that’s who you are, who you’ll always be,” she whispered. “I know. I’ve been there.”

“And shaking that life loose is the riskiest thing I’ve ever done. It’s scarier than sneaking out of town with a lynch mob on my tail. It’s scarier than having your best friend die on you.”

His gaze was soft and honest as she stared at him.

His eyes misted over. “But I’ve really been cleansed. And all of a sudden, the most important thing in the world to me is being the kind of man who pleases God. And God cleared the way, Carny. He gave the towns people forgiving hearts. They didn’t run me out of town. But I never meant to let
you
down. Funny thing is, when I let people down, it’s usually planned. This is the first time I’ve been so desperate not to, and it happened anyway.

“But then I decided that you’d have to come back eventually, and when you did, I’d be here, and I’d spend the rest of my life proving to you that I was different. Even if you didn’t want me here, I’d stay, Carny. Because I can do this. I can bring Serenity back with this park. I can make something out of all this. And maybe not now, but someday, God will smile down on me and make you love me.”

“It’s too late,” she whispered as tears streamed down her face.

For a moment, he only gave her a dismal, longing look. “Are you sure, Carny?”

She smiled through her tears. “Yeah, Brisco. Someday is now. It’s a done deal.”

He threw his arms around her then, burying his face against her neck, and held her so tight that he lifted her off the ground.

“I don’t suppose you would marry me,” he said as he set her down.

“Oh, I might be persuaded,” she said through tears, “if you asked at the right time and place.”

He set her down and touched her face. “And what would that time and place be?”

“Anytime, anyplace,” she said.

Laughing, he kissed her as Jack barked up at them.

Logan used his persuasive talents to talk Hugh Berkstrom into throwing the wedding reception of the century on the back lawn of his estate, after they were pronounced man and wife at the Deep Waters Christian Church, where Logan had been baptized the week before.

Carny’s parents wasted no time cornering Logan at the reception and trying to sell him on their own plan to set up a string of games at the back end of the park. “And if you’ll listen to me, son,” Dooley said, “I can give you a thousand ideas on how to turn a profit in other ways. We really need to talk.”

Logan nodded toward Carny, who was dancing with Jason across the room. “You’ll have to talk to my bride,” he said. “The town just appointed her park commissioner. She’s going to be in charge of keeping Hartland clean and legitimate. And she’ll even have to clear the new hirees … you know, just to make sure that everything’s kept aboveboard.”

Lila’s face fell. “She won’t have time for that. Not with the airport expanding.”

“Oh, Carny can handle a lot more than you think.”

“But she don’t trust anybody,” her father said. “If you leave it up to her, the only people who get hired will be inexperienced townies who don’t have a clue how to make a bu ck.”

“We’ll have some good, wholesome, decent people working in Hartland,” Logan said. “There’s nobody better qualified to do this job, or more passionate about doing it right. She’s fair,” he added with a chuckle. “Submit your proposals to her. She’ll let you know.”

Dooley and Lila were crestfallen as he walked away. He saw Ruth sitting in her golf cart, watching Carny and Jason dance, with a brilliant smile on her face. Strolling toward her, he followed her gaze. “She’s really beautiful, isn’t she, Ruth?”

“She’s stunning,” Ruth said. “You’d better be good to my baby, Logan.”

“Don’t worry, Ruth. I’ll spend the rest of my life making her happy.”

Ruth took his hand and patted it. “Somehow I think you will.”

Jason left his mom to run off with Nathan. Cutting through the dancers, Logan took his wife in his arms. “Have time for a dance with your groom?” he asked.

“Of course.” She laughed. “So what were my parents talking to you about?”

“Working for the park. I referred them to you.”

“No wonder they looked so upset. They know they don’t stand a chance with me.”

Logan caught sight of Dooley across the lawn, animated as he talked to a group of guests who’d gathered around
him. “Tell me something. Does your father make bets on card tricks?”

“Only if they’re rigged.”

“Well, he’s liable to make a fortune at this reception.”

Carny looked over her shoulder and saw him engaging in the same tricks he’d used for years. “Oh, no. He never quits. We’d better break up the reception before he cleans everybody out.”

They left for their honeymoon in Carny’s truck — decorated with shaving cream, toilet paper, and tin cans — and headed for the airstrip, where earlier Logan had filled Carny’s plane with white roses.

“Nassau, here we come!” Logan said, carrying her, wedding dress and all, to the plane. “Imagine Serenity raising the honeymoon money as our wedding gift. And I didn’t con a single one of them.”

“No, you didn’t,” she said, “Do you realize why they did it? They did it for you. With the pace you’ve been keeping, they were afraid you’d collapse before the park is finished.”

“Oh, I have plenty of energy,” he said. “And rest is the last thing I’ve planned for our honeymoon.”

She laughed as he put her into her seat and dropped a handful of white rose petals into her lap. Breathing the aroma of the roses, she closed her eyes and smiled. Logan went down the pre-flight checklist, as she had taught him, then they took off into the sunny sky. “So what exactly
are
we going to do in Nassau?”

A wicked grin crept across his face. “Oh, I don’t know. I hear there’s a lot of money there, Carny. Montague always had this dream of hitting that place. And I had this great idea —”

“Don’t even think about it.”

Throwing back his head, he laughed. “Had you going for a minute, didn’t I?”

She leaned closer to him and grinned up into his face. “I can see right through you, Logan Brisco. You know that, don’t you?”

“And you married me anyway. Whoever said you can’t con a con?”

A Sample Chapter
From Terri Blackstock’s
Forthcoming Novel,
Downfall,
Releases February 2012

T
he neighborhood was quiet at 3:00 a.m. Bugs flew in the yellow halo around the streetlights, and the half moon gave a gray cast to the coveted homes along the Boulevard. It was the kind of home his mother had dreamed of having, the kind that had always been out of her reach.

The air reeked with greed and ambition. The Avenger, as he liked to call himself, walked in front of those houses, carrying his load in a backpack, thinking maybe he should double back just to blow up some of the BMWs parked in the driveways. Wouldn’t it be a thrill to watch from somewhere on the street as businessmen came out of those houses, briefcases in hand, and slipped into their cars? If they all went up at the same time … mushroom clouds of fire whooshing over each house in choreographed order …

But that was a fantasy for another day. Today only one car would go up like that.

The Avenger strode around the corner to a street where smaller houses lined the road. Though they weren’t as expensive and extravagant as those on the Boulevard, these were still out of his mother’s reach. Destined to live in a rotting rat hole, she papered her moldy bathroom with pictures from Southern Living and inflicted her discontent on her husband and son. These weren’t mansions, but they were
big and new. No mold grew on the attic walls. No cracks ripped the sheetrock in the living rooms. No paint peeled. No warped floors. No sounds of rats scratching through the walls. The people who lived here probably weren’t business owners. They were the goons who worked for them, but they were still snotty and superior.

Steam fogged the air in front of the Avenger’s face with every breath as he approached the Covington house. One lamp shone in a room on the side of the house. Out of sight, he’d followed twenty-year-old Emily home awhile ago. Now she probably lay tucked into her bed with some feather comforter that cost a mint, smug about her sobriety. Oblivious.

Like always, she hadn’t pulled her car into the garage where her mother’s car sat. Hers sat on the driveway.

The Avenger set his package down beside her car.

Right here, under the wheel well … that was the best place. He took the jar half-filled with gasoline and the roll of duct tape from his backpack and ripped off enough to tape the bottle under the car, careful not to cover the lamp cord coming from the hole he’d punched in the jar’s lid. The gloves on his hands made it difficult work, but he didn’t give up. When he’d gotten the bottle in place, he checked to make sure it wasn’t leaking. The small amount of gasoline seemed stable. The bottle was angled so it wouldn’t leak.

Now if he could just find the right place to connect the other end. He pulled the lamp cord out from under the front of the car, then quietly opened the hood. It made a clicking sound. He froze, looking from left to right. No one stirred at this hour. He shone his small flashlight on the place where he needed to connect it, the spot in the wiring that would ignite his bomb.

The Avenger chuckled to himself as he closed the hood as quietly as possible, pressing down until it engaged. He checked to make sure the cord coming from under the car into the motor
wasn’t noticeable. If someone knew to look for it, it might be. But he doubted she would see it walking out to her car.

If this worked the way it was supposed to, the bomb would explode when Emily started the car. She would probably escape, but she might be wounded or burned. And she and her family would be terrorized. He’d make them homeless by making them fear their home, and that would just be the beginning.

He chuckled as he gathered up his equipment. Then he dropped his gloves into his bag and walked slowly back up the street to where he’d left his car. He reveled in the sense of power his actions had given him. He would never be powerless again.

Too bad he hadn’t had an audience tonight. That would have made it so much sweeter. But manipulating victims like chess pieces was almost as good.

It was cold, but the thrill warmed him. He thought about the stash he’d left in his glove compartment, his reward for carrying out his plan. He’d wait until he got home, in the privacy of his basement, and when he was high, he’d go back and carry out the rest of his plan. And what a genius plan it was.

Headlights turned onto the street, illuminating him like a stage star. He pulled up his hood and looked down at the street as the car slowly passed. As soon as darkness enveloped him again, he broke into a trot back to his car.

There was still so much to do. He had to go take care of Devon, put a gun to her head, watch her bleed. He’d planned it for weeks, waited for the right mixture of courage and cockiness. He’d found it tonight. Freedom had been birthed inside him with one act of will. Now he could set everything right. He’d continue exacting revenge on all those who’d messed with him. So much fallout. So many consequences.

He was the great Avenger.

E
mily Covington had managed to slip into the house and down the hall to her bedroom without waking her mother, a major feat since her mom slept so lightly when Emily was out. Emily hadn’t meant to stay out so late tonight without calling, but one thing had led to another, and she’d wound up coming in at 2:00 a.m., tiptoeing back in like a high school kid who’d broken curfew.

Now she had to cram for her test before she could go to bed. Why had she waited until the last minute?

“Emily? You’re home?”

She turned to see her mother standing in her bedroom doorway, her hair tangled and disheveled from bed. “Hey, I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“Did you just come in?”

“A little while ago. Sorry I didn’t call. I went to the show choir concert at school, and afterward some of us went to a movie. Then we hung out for a while in Ree’s dorm room.”

“Emily, it’s three o’clock, and you have school tomorrow.”

“I know. It’ll be fine.”

“Don’t you have a test?”

“Yeah, but it’s okay. Just go back to sleep.”

Her mother was silent for a moment. “Okay. Come give me a kiss.”

It was a ruse, Emily thought. Her mother’s way of smelling her breath and her hair, to see if she’d been drinking or smoking dope. Emily went to her, kissed her mother’s cheek and gave her a hug. “Get a good whiff,” she said with a smile. “All you’ll smell is popcorn and coffee.”

Her mother let her go and stared into her eyes, as if checking her pupils for normalcy. “All right, but you’re going to put me in an early grave with these long nights.”

“Mom, if I lived on campus you wouldn’t even know when I came in.”

“Well, you don’t live on campus. You live here, and I worry. Go to bed soon, okay?”

“Okay.” Emily went back to her bed where her books lay spread out, wishing she hadn’t made her mother lose sleep, tonight of all nights. Her mom had a big presentation tomorrow at work, and she wanted her to do well. Her mother had been elated to have this job in Atlanta, after they’d struggled so much in Jefferson City. Emily hoped her actions tonight hadn’t messed her up.

She resolved to try to do better next time. The least she could do was call to let her know not to worry. But after all she’d put her mother through, worry had become a way of life. Staying out until two would only exacerbate old memories — and old fears.

But one day Emily would prove to her mom that her life of addiction was behind her. Then maybe she could start sleeping better at night.

M
illy Prentiss heard the knock on her back door as she waited for her coffee pot to fill. Pulling her robe tighter around her, she stepped to the door and looked through its window onto the rotting back porch. The sun was just coming up, painting the small dirt-patched lawn a lighter shade of gray. She saw no one.

She heard the knock again. Looking lower, she saw the top of a tiny blonde head.

Milly threw the door open. Her next door neighbor’s four-year-old stood in front of her, barefoot and wearing a long gown. There was blood on her sleeves, and the little girl was pale as porcelain.

Milly dropped to her knees. “Allie, honey, what’s wrong?”

“Mommy won’t wake up.”

Milly took the girl’s hands, saw the blood smears there. “What’s this on your hands?”

The child looked down at her hands blankly, as if she hadn’t noticed it before.

“Allie, what happened?”

“Mommy hurt herself in her bed. I shaked her but she wouldn’t come awake.”

“Where’s Carrie?”

Kent hoped they’d learn more from visiting the husband and gauging his reaction to his wife’s death.

“Do you think this person might come back?” she asked. “I live alone, and I’m nervous.”

“We don’t know, ma’am. But we’re going to do our best to find him.”

“But how did the person get in? Do you think it was Bo?” she whispered.

Kent didn’t answer. “We’re looking at all the evidence, but we don’t have answers just yet.”

“What am I supposed to do with the kids? I need to clean Allie up, but I can’t get in there to get her clothes.”

“We’ll get something for her to wear and have someone come and take care of them until we can get a family member to pick them up.”

“No, that’s okay. They know me. I babysit them a lot. I’ll keep them until their daddy or grandma comes.” She burst into tears and covered her face. “This is so awful. Poor Devon!”

He resisted the urge to comfort her. Andy had already accused him of going soft since becoming a Christian. But he hoped someone would. When he and Andy stepped outside, he heard the teary-eyed woman lock her deadbolt.