Last Light (36 page)
She hated being deceptive. But in her heart she knew that her life was not here. It was in a big city, the nation’s capital, where she knew things
must
be better than they were here. She had a life, a future with Craig, and she intended to start it as soon as possible. No way would she accept things the way they were.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Vic looking at her, trying to catch her eye, but she kept her gaze fixed on her dad.
“ ‘I know what it is to be in need,’ ” he read from Philippians, “ ‘and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength . . .’ ”
Content. She wished she could be content, sitting here with her family, waiting patiently for something to change. But that wasn’t in her nature. She had to make things happen.
Her dad waxed poetic about the ways God had provided for them through the outage. He encouraged them to find the blessings in their situation, to trust God to continue to provide, to depend on Him to have a plan even in this. He encouraged each of them to reach out to neighbors who might have no hope.
And then, just as she’d expected, he launched into the reason for his hope, shamelessly hitting the small congregation with the Gospel in all its glory.
She hoped no one would be offended.
When the church service was over, she walked outside with her family to thank everyone for coming. Vic cornered her. In a low voice, he said, “Meet me just outside the neighborhood as soon after lunch as you can. My rig’s gonna draw a lot of attention, so you won’t want to be with me as I ride out.”
“Okay. Give me an hour or so.”
“Do me a favor. When you leave your folks that note, don’t mention you left with me. I really don’t want them mad at me.”
“I won’t,” she said. “Don’t worry. They have no reason to think of you.”
“Bring a sleeping bag,” he said. “And pack light.”
“Will there be room for my bike? I was thinking that it might be handy in case we decide to part ways.”
He frowned. “Why would we want to do that? I told you I’d deliver you to Craig’s door. But there isn’t room, anyway. I’m taking a lot of stuff with us.”
“Okay.” Her chest felt tight as she looked back at her parents, talking with people, oblivious to what was about to happen. They would see this as a tragedy, maybe even treat it like a death in the family. If there was a National Guard to call out, they’d have them after her by nightfall.
She didn’t like the way this would hurt them, but she had to think of herself.
That afternoon, after a sparse lunch, Deni went upstairs. Quickly, she finished packing, then dropped her sleeping bag and suitcase out the window, and watched them thud onto the grass. She turned back around and took one last look at her room. Her wedding dress hung in a plastic bag on her closet door, and her heart plunged. When she made it to D.C., she intended to elope with Craig. That meant she wouldn’t have the church wedding she’d dreamed of, with her father walking her down the aisle, her bridesmaids jealous that it was her and not them, her mother crying from happiness.
And she wouldn’t be able to wear the dress.
She crossed the room and unzipped the bag, pulled out the train. It was so beautiful. It was a Vera Wang gown that was way too expensive. She’d seen it hanging in the store and had begged her mother to let her try it on. Her mother agreed, though she warned Deni it was way out of their budget.
But the moment she’d stepped into it, she knew it was the one. Nothing else fit her this way. Nothing else gave her that feeling of being a bride. Nothing else satisfied her fantasies.
Her mother finally capitulated and bought the dress . . .
Deni supposed the money would be wasted now.
She stood there a moment, knowing she’d regret leaving the dress behind. But who said she had to? What if she took it with her?
The thought energized her. Yes, she could take it. In its bag, it would be protected. There had to be enough room in the wagon.
Quickly, she folded the train back into the bag, grabbed the plastic bag holding her veil, slipped it inside, and zipped it up. If Vic balked, she would explain how important it was to her, and dig her heels in.
She took it to the window, and thought of throwing it down with the suitcase, but it was too precious. So she folded it over her arm and took it downstairs with her.
Her dad had given the family the afternoon off from their chores, since they’d worked extra hard yesterday getting enough water to get through today. The whole family had gone outside to the backyard. Her dad sat on the patio swing, talking in a quiet voice to her mother.
“I left a note on the door,” he was saying. “Hopefully the sheriff will come as soon as he sees it.”
Her mother looked distraught. “I hope he hurries.”
Deni’s heart jolted. Did they know she was leaving? Were they already preparing?
There was one way to find out. “Dad, Mom, I’m going over to Chris’s.” The lie made her head hurt. “I’m taking my wedding dress to show her.”
“Your wedding dress?” her mother asked. “Hasn’t she seen it?”
More lies. “Every time she’s come over I’ve meant to show her, but I’ve forgotten.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if she came here to see it? It weighs a ton. Besides, you don’t want to get it dirty.”
“I want to show her mother, too. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.”
Her mother shrugged. “Okay, honey, if you say so. Tell them thanks again for coming this morning.”
Well, that answered her question. If they’d known her intentions, they wouldn’t let her go so easily. She was home free.
So why wasn’t she happy?
She stood there looking at them, wondering if she was doing the right thing. A surge of panic froze her in place.
Tell them what you’re planning. At least give them the chance to talk you out of it . . .
But that was the surest way to seal her fate. It wasn’t as if they would remember being young and in love, and help her find a way to get to Craig. They would be rigid, unreasonable.
But knowing that didn’t make this easier. Following a sudden, irresistible impulse, she bent down and kissed her dad on the cheek. “You did a good job this morning, Dad. I was proud of you. Thank you for being a good spiritual leader. And thanks for being a good dad.”
He smiled up at her, clearly surprised. “Thank you, baby.”
She turned to her mom and her heart jolted with pain. She’d wanted her mother with her when she got married, fussing over her hair and dress before she walked down the aisle. Now she would miss everything. But the family would get over it . . . and so would Deni.
Tears filled her eyes as she bent over and kissed her mother. “Bye, Mom.”
Her mother reached up and gave her a hug. “Bye, honey. Be careful.”
The lump in Deni’s throat almost kept her from speaking. “I will.”
She tore herself away before the tears rolled down her face. She went around the house to where her suitcase and sleeping bag lay on the grass, and folding the dress three ways over her arm, she swept the suitcase up, balanced the sleeping bag on top of it, and cut through backyards and between houses to get to the meeting place with Vic.
He was waiting just outside the neighborhood, exactly where he said he’d be. He’d modified the wagon since she’d last seen it. It now had three walls with shelves inside that held the boxes of Vic’s supplies and inventory. A blue tarp covered them to keep the sun and rain out. The four horses looked strong and healthy, and they grazed on the grass on the side of the road as they waited.
Vic saw her coming and hopped off to help her with her things. “Hey there, darlin’. You ready to go on our big adventure?”
She glanced back at the entrance to her neighborhood. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
He looked down at the things she’d brought. “Are you bringing everything you own?”
“I don’t plan to be back for a long time. It’s a major move for me. You have room, don’t you?”
He looked a little disturbed as he threw her sleeping bag in, then moved around some boxes to make room for the suitcase. As he did, she saw the boxes he’d stacked in the big wagon. She hoped some of them held food.
He turned back to her and nodded toward the dress folded over her arm. “What’s that?”
She thrust her chin up, ready to fight. “It’s my wedding gown. I have to bring it, because I’m getting married as soon as I get there.”
“I’m not equipped to take care of a wedding dress. It’ll get all wadded and crumpled.” He took it from her, and felt its weight. “Can’t you leave it here?”
“No. If it doesn’t go, I don’t go.” She wasn’t entirely sure she meant it, but she wanted him to think she did.
He sighed and lifted the tarp, then laid the dress bag over several boxes. “If it gets damaged, it’s not my fault. You understand?”
“Yes, I understand.”
He shook his head and muttered, “Her wedding dress, of all things.”
She smirked. “I can hear you, you know.”
“I know,” he said on a sigh. “It’s just crazy, that’s all. Come on, let’s hit the road.”
Relieved, she climbed in the front of the wagon with him and settled into one of the captain’s chairs. He got the reins, and slapped them on the horses’ rumps, then let out a little yell to get them going.
As the wagon rolled smoothly on the rubber tires, Deni grinned. This was going to be fine. She was comfortable, and they had enough food to get them where they were going, and enough cash for whatever they needed along the way. Yes, she’d made the right decision.
Soon she would be with her beloved.
It was midafternoon when the sheriff finally came. When he’d examined the prints on the Brannings’ back patio, he’d gone over to Brad’s to look at his Reeboks and question him. Scarbrough came back later to report what he’d found.
“They were his shoes, all right. He said that after he heard the gunshot and talked to you at the front door, he went around back to make sure no one was there. That’s why his prints were in both places.”
“That’s convenient,” Kay said. “You didn’t think he was going to give you a full confession, did you? Are you going to arrest him or not?”
Sheriff Scarbrough shook his head. “I can’t. The evidence against him is flimsy, at best. A murder didn’t happen here last night. His prints were just on your patio. I have nothing linking him to any of the other murders. He’s a lawyer. If he’s really guilty, and I don’t go by the book, he’ll get off on a technicality.”
Doug just gaped at him. “So we’re supposed to just wait for him to get caught in the act?”
Scarbrough clearly didn’t appreciate that. “He knows we’re onto him. If he’s the one, he’ll probably lay low to keep from drawing any more heat.”
Kay ground her teeth. “Can you guarantee that? The man knows we accused him! He’s got to be angry at us! How can you think we’re safe now?”
The sheriff muttered something about staying alert and keeping their eyes open, then told them to come get him again if they found any more evidence.
Kay’s tension mounted as the day went on. How would she stand another night like last night?
Her mind drifted to Judith. Did she know her husband was a killer, or was she just as blind as they had been? The other day she had explained his behavior, telling her of his childhood and the murder of his brother. Now Kay wondered if that trauma had turned him into a killer.
They considered calling on the gang of men who’d declared themselves watchmen of the neighborhood . . . but it was Judith and the kids that caused their hesitation. What would this do to them?
And what if they were wrong?
Despite the disturbing thoughts rolling through her mind, Kay had to figure out what to feed her family for supper. The food portions were getting smaller and smaller. Kay opened her last jar of the Keegans’ green beans to go with the fish Jeff had caught earlier that afternoon. He’d only caught three, so she cooked it and flaked the meat off of the bones, then divided it six ways so they’d each get a little protein. It was barely enough to whet their appetites, certainly not enough to fill them.
