Deep Shadows (27 page)

“Are you sure it's a good idea for you to walk home alone?”

“There are patrols everywhere. I couldn't be safer.”

“Thank you for coming by. I'll try and stop over to see your parents tomorrow.”

Bianca hugged her. “You think about what Danny offered, and Max too.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.”

“But you're staying.”

“Only because of my parents. Plus, I have Patrick around if I need help.”

They both glanced over at Max's. A lantern still burned in the front room, its light spilling out into the creeping darkness.

Shelby admitted to herself that she felt safe knowing that Max was next door. “I guess we're both pretty lucky—”

“Blessed.”

“Blessed,” Shelby agreed. “At least we have friends who are looking out for us.”

“And now, more than ever, friends and faith will see us through.”

It was much later, in the middle of the night, when Shelby woke from where she'd fallen asleep on the couch. She stumbled into the kitchen for a glass of water, which she poured from a gallon jug Max had given them. She stretched a kink that had formed in her back. Why hadn't she just gone to bed? Now she would pay for it with a crick in her neck.

She eyed the Advil but decided to save it for a real emergency. As she placed the glass back on the counter, she happened to look outside. The moon was high in the night sky, casting long shadows. Perhaps that was why she could see Dr. Bhatti, kneeling at the back of Max's property, burying something beneath the boughs of a cedar tree.

F
ORTY
-T
WO

M
ax startled awake to the sound of someone in his home. He had a disjointed recollection of Dr. Bhatti, their agreement, and the solar flare. His mind worked back through the events that had occurred since Friday evening. Was today only Monday? How could his entire life have changed so drastically in such a short period of time?

He'd wanted to talk to Shelby the night before, after he'd seen Danny on the back porch. What was he doing over there? Had there been news? Surely if there had been, he would have heard. He'd given Bhatti a quick tour of the place, intent on hurrying back outside. But Bhatti had wanted to talk. He'd finished the last of his cigarettes and was antsy, pacing the space between the living room and the kitchen. After an hour, Max had stretched and claimed he was bushed—which was the truth.

When Bhatti finally went to his room, Max had hurried back outside. No sign of Danny, Bianca, or even Shelby—and her home was completely dark.

Now the sunlight was peeking in through the window, which meant it was at least six thirty in the morning. Max dressed quickly and walked into the kitchen, but there was no sign of Bhatti. Had he left already? Was he suddenly dedicated? Max glanced out the front window and noticed Bhatti sitting on the porch, staring out at the street.

“Still wishing for another smoke?” Max asked, walking out and stretching. His watch said the time was six forty, his normal time to get up. Funny how the body kept to certain rhythms even when circumstances had radically changed.

The day promised to be warm. Which made him wonder—what would be worse? The heat of summer or winter's cold? How could they prepare for either now? Or should they stay focused on medical supplies and food and safety?

“Unfortunately, yes.” Bhatti sat forward, his arms propped on his knees. He stared at the ground and then glanced sideways at Max. “Though I enjoyed my brief flirtation with a long-abandoned bad habit, I suppose one pack was enough. I wouldn't want to die of cancer.”

“You're an optimist this morning.”

“Hardly. You do realize that most of the residents at Green Acres won't make it through the summer?”

“And on that sobering thought, I need coffee.”

By the time he had coffee brewing in the French press on the picnic table, Shelby had joined them. She'd already met Bhatti at the nursing home, but he acted as if he barely remembered her. If Max had to put a word on it, he would say the man worked at keeping himself distant from everyone.

It occurred to him that he had a right to know what Bhatti had been escaping from in Austin. After all, the man was living in his house. But the best time to ask would be when they were alone.

Shelby had no such reservations. She'd consumed half a cup of coffee and was clutching the mug as if someone might wrestle it from her hands. Her eyes were alert, and she openly studied Bhatti.

“Max tells us that you used to live in Austin.”

“I did.”

“And yet you were here when the flare hit.”

“I was, and I still am.”

“Not too many people pick our town as a vacation destination,” she said. “What brought you to Abney?”

“Took a drive on the back roads, ended up here.”

“You have a car here?” Max asked.

“I do.”

“You didn't tell me that.”

“You didn't ask. Did you think I walked from Austin?”

“Must be a newer model if you're not driving it.” Shelby sipped from her coffee. “I assume it wouldn't start?”

“You're correct. I can't even get in it since the vehicle boasts a keyless entry and the circuits are fried.”

“But we can get into the gas tank.” Max pushed the box of Pop-Tarts toward Shelby. She rarely indulged in sugary treats, but occasionally if Carter wasn't around, she could be tempted. She glanced at the box and shook her head.

Bhatti shrugged, as if his car was no longer of any consequence to him.

“Max also said you
needed to get away
.”

“Something I told him in confidence.”

“And yet it could be pertinent to us, since we are entrusting the care of our elderly to you.”

Bhatti reached for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket before realizing that they were gone. “I can assure you it has nothing to do with my practice, though my specialty is not geriatrics. I was an ear, nose, and throat doctor.”

“Are you saying that you aren't qualified to treat the residents of Green Acres?”

Bhatti had been answering in a stilted, standoffish manner, but now he sat forward, crossed his arms on the table, and looked directly into Shelby's eyes. “I am a certified physician, but if you don't want me in your nursing home, just say so.”

Shelby frowned, shook her head, and pushed her nearly empty cup toward Max. As he refilled it, she said, “Certainly you can understand our concern.”

“I can.”

Max reached for another Pop-Tart and poured the last dregs of coffee into his mug.

Shelby finally asked what must have been weighing heavily on her mind. “What do you think their odds are?”

“As I told Max earlier, I doubt many of the patients in your facility will survive the summer.”

“And how did you arrive at that assessment after only one shift?”

Max had been content to watch this confrontation play out. He'd learned in the courtroom that if you saw a storm brewing and stepped out of the way, sometimes good things resulted from the fallout. He'd had the same questions about Bhatti, but they were probably better coming
from Shelby, who could be written off—at least by the doctor—as a nosy neighbor.

“You have five residents with pulmonary disorders, three who are recovering from recent surgeries, eight who have varying degrees of dementia, and six who have a history of cardiac trouble.”

“And?” Shelby abandoned her mug and crossed her arms.

“My point, Ms. Sparks, is that there isn't much we can do for these people. We can't even keep them comfortable, and we certainly can't treat them with the resources we have.”

“So you're giving up.”

“Actually I'll be reporting to work within the half hour, but I'm fairly certain there is little I can do.” And with that, the doctor turned and shuffled into the house.

Max watched Shelby and shrugged when she turned her gaze to him.

“Real winner you brought us there.”

“Easy does it, Shelby. He's only telling us what we would rather not hear.”

“Doesn't make it the truth.”

“And it doesn't make it a lie.” Max waited, but Shelby didn't explain her mood. Finally he asked, “What's bothering you this morning?”

Shelby plopped back down onto the bench of the picnic table. “I saw him last night. I saw him burying something in your backyard.”

F
ORTY
-T
HREE

B
hatti?”

“Last night—late.”

She scrubbed a hand across her face, which was devoid of makeup. When she was like this, when she wasn't aware that he was watching her, Shelby reminded him of the young girl he'd grown up with. In those moments, it felt like she was the other half of himself, the half he had lost somewhere along the way.

Now she leaned forward, lowered her voice, and reached across to clutch his arm. “He was here in the backyard, near that cedar, burying something.”

“You saw this?”

“By the moonlight. I was in the kitchen and happened to look out—” She pointed toward the offending tree. “I just happened to see him.”

Max didn't answer right away, hoping she would elaborate. But she didn't.

“He's hiding something. Burying something. And we need to know what.”

“So go dig it up,” said Max.

“He's still here.”

“We could ask him.”

“Come on, Max. Someone who buries who-knows-what in the middle of the night is not going to tell the truth when you ask him a hard question.”

“So what do we do?”

“You figure it out. You brought him here.”

“To Abney? He was already—”

“To our neighborhood.”

“Are you suggesting that I've put us in danger?” Max pushed away his cup of coffee.

“I'm not suggesting anything. I'm telling you that it's your mess and you need to clean it up. Find out what's going on.”

“And what are you going to do?”

“Finish my breakfast. Get ready for work. Check on Carter.”

There were a dozen things Max could have said to her at that moment, things he wanted and needed to say. But the lawyer in him spoke up before he had a chance. “What was Danny doing at your house last night?”

Instead of answering, she picked up a package of Pop-Tarts, opened it, took a bite, and grimaced. “Tastes like sugar.”

“Uh-huh. Now what about Danny? By the time I'd settled Bhatti into his room, all the lights were out in your place.”

“So you're watching my house?”

“I'm not spying on you, Shelby. I'm keeping an eye out for trouble—watching your back. That's what we do for each other. Remember?”

With a quick “sorry” for being so prickly, she gave him the quick rendition of what they'd learned.

“Can't say I'm surprised,” said Max.

“That the federal government and state governments are locking horns? Already? After only two and a half days?”

“The mayor hinted as much.”

“I can't imagine how she's dealing with the pressure.”

“A power struggle with Eugene Stone is not what we need right now.”

“I knew he was bitter about losing the election, but it's hard to believe he'd put his political aspirations ahead of the good of Abney.”

“That's the problem—he thinks they are one and the same.”

At the look of concern on her face, he reached across the table and covered her hands with his.

“This isn't going to be easy, but we are a tough people—a country birthed in revolution. God has seen us through the struggles of the past. He'll see us through this.”