Sunshine and the Shadowmaster (10 page)

He met her eyes again. “I hope not.”

Jack and Lucas got out of the four-by-four at the same time. Jack circled around behind the house as Lucas mounted the rickety steps to the door. Heather followed more slowly behind Lucas, pausing in the middle of the overgrown front lawn.

At the door, Lucas turned to look at her. Though he was in the shadows of the porch roof and she couldn't really see his eyes, Heather nodded anyway, trying with everything in her to telegraph her support—and her certainty that everything was going to work out all right.

Lucas faced the door again, raised his hand and knocked.

The door swung inward at the touch of his knuckles on the rough wood. Lucas didn't hesitate. He stepped over the threshold and disappeared into the shadows within.

Heather longed more than anything to follow him. But she knew this was something he had to do alone.

L
ucas moved swiftly out of the small entranceway and into the living area to the right of the door. To his left he could see the kitchen, including the corner of an ancient stove and a rusted Formica-and-steel table. Before him lay the living room.

Outside, the sun was fully risen now. Shafts of buttery brightness shone in between the rips and creases of the ancient curtains, making a crazy quilt of light and darkness across the buckled hardwood floor. In the shafts of sunlight, dust motes whirled and danced.

Deep in the room near the wall to the kitchen, beyond the shifting beams of light, a boy and a girl sat on a badly sprung horsehair sofa. Lucas had to squint through the dazzling patterns of glare and shadow to see them. Both of them seemed to be staring at him through solemn, anxious eyes.

“Mark?” Lucas asked witlessly, unsure for a moment if he really saw what he thought he saw.

The children went on looking at him.

It was Marnie who finally spoke up, just as Lucas's eyes began to adjust to the strange play of light in the room. “I came to warn him you'd be coming for him.” Mark nudged her with his elbow, a caution not to incriminate herself further. Marnie had no use for caution. She held her stubborn chin high. “But he wouldn't run away again.”

Mark shot her a dark look, then faced Lucas. “It's not her fault, Dad. She's my friend. She did what I asked her to do.”

Through the arch to his left, Lucas heard a door open and close. Footsteps crackled across peeled-up linoleum.

Jack Roper appeared. He lounged in the arch for a moment, as Marnie and Mark craned their heads around to look at him. Then Jack signaled to Marnie. “Come on with me.”

Marnie scratched that stubborn chin of hers. “You arrestin' me, Uncle Jack?”

Jack strolled over to the sofa and stood looking down at the girl. “Not yet. But don't push me.”

Marnie turned to Mark. “You want me to go?”

Mark nodded. “Yeah. You've been the greatest. But there's nothing else you can do for me now.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I'm okay.”

Marnie rose with great dignity. “Maybe you want to handcuff me, Uncle Jack.”

“Maybe I want to paddle your behind. But I'll leave that to your parents.”

“I don't get paddled,” Marnie informed Jack. “Gina doesn't believe in paddling.” Marnie's thin shoulders slumped a little. “But she's gonna be real
disappointed
in me. I'm not lookin' forward to that.” She shook her tangled little head. “Gina believes in
good works.
You know what I mean? She believes in making beds for old people and washing the cars of people who can't do it themselves. She believes when a person's real sorry she did something, then a person ought to do a lot of good works to show she's not going to do that again. In fact, Uncle Jack, it'd probably be easier on me if you
did
arrest me.”

“I'll think about it,” Jack promised. “Now come on with me.” He caught Lucas's eye. “We'll be in the truck.”

Marnie heaved a heartfelt sigh and trudged out behind Jack, leaving Lucas standing there, looking at the son he'd secretly feared he might never see again—and wondering where to begin.

Mark regarded Lucas doubtfully. “You gonna start yelling at me, Dad?”

Lucas's eyes were suddenly grainy and hot. He rubbed them with the heels of his hands. Not far away sat a dingy easy chair with the stuffing erupting from it in several places. Lucas strode over to the chair and dropped into it, stirring up a cloud of greasy-smelling dust.

“Well,” Mark prompted, “
are
you?”

“Am I what?”

“Gonna start yelling at me?”

Lucas gave a small, humorless chuckle. “I yelled at you on the phone the other night. And you disappeared. I think maybe I'll have to come up with something better to do than yell.”

Mark shifted on the couch. “I didn't know what—” His voice broke over the tears that were trying to push through. He gulped, then tried again. “I didn't know what...to do. You're just so busy all the time, Dad. And then you promised we could come here before your book tour. I really wanted that. Just to come here for a while. But then you broke your promise.”

Lucas felt as if there were a band around his chest, tightening, cutting off his air. “I know. I...screwed up.”

Mark swallowed again. “What...what did you say?”

“I said I screwed up. I lost track of what's important. And I'm sorry.”

“You're
sorry?
” Mark took in a breath that turned into a sob.

“Yeah.” Lucas couldn't stay still. He stood. “I'm sorry. Please forgive me, son.”

Mark stared at him, through the sunshine and the shadows and the swirling motes of dust. “Oh, Dad...” he whispered.

And then he shot off the couch and projected himself straight at Lucas. Lucas grunted at the impact, and then gathered him close, thinking how good he felt, all bones and sharp angles and the dusty puppy-dog smell of a healthy, rather dirty boy.

“Oh, Dad. I'm sorry, too.” Mark was crying openly now, his words tumbling over each other between sobs. “I feel awful, I do. But I didn't know what else to do, to get you to listen to me.”

“I know, I know....”

“You wouldn't listen. And then you wouldn't bring me here. And I ran to Aunt Heather. And she just called you. So I ran again. I just ran off, across town, in the dark, across the river at a shallow place. And I wandered in the woods. It was scary, Dad.”

“I know, I know....”

“And I hid in this pipe. It was so dark and it was wet in there, and I kept hearing noises. Finally I fell asleep.

“In the morning, I woke up, and I started walking. I just wandered around like some crazy person for a while. And I realized I'd lost my Swiss army knife. That was bad. That I would lose that. Marnie said they found it, though.”

“Yes. Yes, they did.”

“Good. I went to Marnie that next night. I waited late, as late as I could stand it and I threw rocks at her window. She climbed down that big tree by the side of the house and she was great. She's the best friend a guy could have, Dad. She tried to tell me about her dad, that she has lots of problems with him, but that she never runs away. She stays and works it out. But I wouldn't listen. I told her if she didn't want to help me, fine. And I started to walk away. I knew the whole time that she wasn't going to let me leave.

“And she didn't. She helped me. She brought me here that night. And she brought me food and blankets and candles and even some books, her and Kenny. And every hour that went by, Dad, all I kept thinking was how I wanted to go back to you. But somehow, going back just kept getting harder to do.”

“I know,” Lucas said as he hugged Mark close against him. “I understand. I do.”

Mark sobbed again. “Oh, Dad...”

Lucas clutched his son tighter still and went on murmuring reassurances, while inside himself he vowed he would not waste this second chance with Mark. Things would be changing in their lives. His work was going to come second to the most important thing: his son.

* * *

When Lucas and Mark emerged from the old house, Jack had already radioed ahead to say that Mark had been found.

Heather stood by the four-by-four, waiting. At the sight of Mark, she let out a joyful, silly shout and started running. Mark saw her and ran, too. They met in the middle of the weed-tangled yard, grabbed on to each other and spun around in a circle beneath the bright morning sky.

When they finally let loose of each other, Heather saw that Mark's nose was running and his eyes were red. She gave him one of the tissues she always kept in a back pocket.

“Good to have you back,” she said.

He blew his nose. “Good to be back.”

Heather glanced up, and caught sight of Lucas, still standing in the shadows of her grandfather's porch. He started down the steps, the movement slow and fluid. Heather waited, staring, not even knowing she was holding her breath, until he was fully in the sun.

She saw his eyes at last, so dark, and yet burning with heat and light. And memories of the forbidden night before assailed her.

She thought of the way his lips had felt on her skin, so warm in the hollow of her neck, of the trail of ebony hair down his solar plexus, and of the smell of him, that was dark and sweet and foreign. Captivating in its very alienness.

Mark tugged on her hand. “Come on. Deputy Roper is ready to go.”

Heather made herself breathe. “Yes. Of course.”

“We'll ride in back, with Marnie.” He glanced at his father, who now stood beside them, but was looking at Heather. “Is that okay, Dad?”

“All right,” Lucas said. “That's fine.”

* * *

Jack drove Marnie home first, leaving her in the able hands of her stepmother. Regina hugged the girl fiercely and then listened while Jack explained what her stepdaughter had been up to. When she'd heard it all, Regina promised Jack that Marnie would think twice before ever doing anything like that again.

Marnie shook her head. “See what I mean, Uncle Jack? I prob'bly woulda been better off in jail.”

Jack drove the rest of them to the sheriff's station next, where he filled out the final report on Mark's disappearance. While they were there, Mark talked to a lady from child protective services, who filled out another report that said Mark and his father seemed perfectly capable of resolving their family problems by themselves.

After all the paperwork was taken care of, Jack drove them back to Heather's house, where the reporters were already gathering.

“Good luck getting through that,” Jack said, when he pulled up on the street and they saw the crowd they were going to have to plow through to get to the gate.

Lucas spoke then. “Thanks.”

“Hey, it's my job—and you and Mark are family to Sunshine. No thanks are required.”

“Maybe not. But I offered a reward, did you know that?”

“I think I read about that. A million bucks, right?”

“Right.”

Jack threw back his big, blond head and laughed at the roof of his four-by-four. “Well, hell. What do you know?”

“The money's yours, Jack.”

Jack grunted. “Tell you what. You keep it. I've got everything a man could want already. A home, a job. And a rich wife.”

Mark spoke up from the cage in the back where he was sitting with Heather, “He's not kidding, Dad. His wife's dad is rich. Richer than you, even.”

Lucas chuckled. “Good for you, Jack. But the money's still yours.”

“Naw. You pay back the county for the cost of the search.”

“You know I will.”

“And, if you're still in a giving mood after you've handled
that
bill, then give some to the volunteer fire department and maybe a little to the community church.”

Lucas studied Jack for a long moment. “You're serious, aren't you?”

Jack nodded. “Serious as a forest fire.”

“Okay, then. If that's how you want it.”

The two men shook hands.

Then Heather, Mark and Lucas climbed out of the four-by-four and elbowed their way through the crowd of reporters to the front gate.

Inside, Lucas thanked Tawny and gave her two hundred-dollar bills. Blushing and stammering with pleasure and gratitude, Tawny left her post by the phone for the last time.

After that, Mark headed straight for the shower. Heather went to call Lily, who yelled for a minute and then congratulated her on Mark's safe return.

“But this place is a zoo,” Lily complained. “I need you now. Sooner. I needed you at six-thirty, when you were supposed to have been here.”

“It's been a crazy time, Lil.”

“I know. Get over here.”

“I'll be there as soon as I can. Cross my heart.”

“A half hour, then. No more.”

Heather agreed she could make it by then.

When she turned from hanging up the phone, Lucas was standing there. The sight of him surprised her a little and she gave a startled, “Oh!”

He smiled. Heather thought he looked ten years younger than he had last night. The deep furrows in his face and the drawn, haunted look had disappeared.

A miracle had happened. Mark was back. Heather's endless prayers had been answered. The world was as it should be once again.

Lucas kidded her, “Lily's on the warpath, right? She wants you at work pronto, or else.”

Heather let out a put-upon groan. “She granted me a half hour.”

“Such a generous soul.”

“There's no one else like her.”

“Ain't that the truth.”

They were smiling together over the meaningless banter. And then his gaze moved.

It found her mouth.

At the same moment, he took a step toward her, only one. But the movement was catlike. Predatory.

And last night came back to her again. Full force. All of it. From the moment she had entered this very room and found him sitting in the dark, until that final sigh when she had dropped at last into a brief, sweet oblivion born of satisfied exhaustion.

“Don't...” she whispered, the word too weak to make much sound.

But he didn't listen. He took another step.

The counter was at her back. She pressed herself against it, while down inside her, hot flowers of need were budding, blooming, opening wide.

“Oh, don't...”

He stopped, not more than a foot away. His eyes burned her. “Candace will be here in an hour or two. When she sees Mark's all right, she'll hug him and kiss him and tell him how much he's grown. She'll make him promise never, ever to run away again. Then she'll take him out for ice cream—at your precious Lily's, since it's the only game in town—and she'll leave before nightfall. Mark and I will be leaving, too. Unless...”

She stared up at him, hungry for him, bewildered at these words he was saying. “But I don't—”