R
ain swept over the highway in slanting sheets, and gusts of wind pulled at the patrol car as Frank drove back to Drexel. Lemeul Dearman had let him off near the river, where he’d left the patrol car. The old man had not gotten his truck above five miles an hour, and now Frank made up for lost time. He had the sense that things were happening all around him, things that would impact him for the rest of his life. Through the dense rain, he saw shadows moving among the trees. The dead were walking, but he had no time for them. One thought drove him—to get back to town.
A puddle of deep water pulled the car toward the shoulder, and he wrenched the wheel, going into a sideways slide. When he finally righted the car, he was sweating. As he dropped over the crest of the last hill, the gray, abandoned town came into view. The dread that gripped him intensified.
He drove through town and went to the drugstore where the old man had dropped Hubbard off. The store lights burned dimly, and Frank parked and ran inside.
There was no sign of Hubbard. The store was abandoned except for the elderly pharmacist, who stood on a wooden platform behind the back counter where the drugs were kept.
“Mr. Hart, did you see a stranger? A man about six feet, dark hair and eyes, probably needing a shave.”
Percy Hart pulled on his left earlobe and frowned. “Fellow came in here a little while ago. He looked mighty bad, if that’s the fellow you’re looking for. He asked to use the phone and then left.”
“Who did he call?” Frank asked.
“I couldn’t be sure. Herman Nyman came in about that time and needed some medicine for his croupy young’un. I didn’t hear the call, but it was Lucille Longier who drove up and fetched him.”
“Lucille?” Frank didn’t hide his surprise. “I thought Jonah did her driving for her.”
“Me, too, but it was Lucille. I noticed because she came close to taking out that pecan tree by the store. You might get Huey to have a talk with her about getting some glasses or staying out of the driver’s seat.”
“Sure. I’ll do that. You say she picked up the stranger?” Frank asked, though he’d heard Percy the first time. He hoped for more details.
“That’s right. He was soaking wet, and he got right in the front seat with her.”
The questions that lined up in Frank’s mind were disturbing. How would Lucille know John Hubbard, her daughter’s lover? Why would she drive, alone, into Drexel to pick Hubbard up?
“Is something wrong?” Percy asked. “They took off before the worst of the storm hit. I’m sure Lucille made it home safely or we’d have heard something by now.”
“Thanks, Mr. Hart,” Frank said before he ran back out into the rain.
Dotty had never heard a storm like the one that battered the small cabin, but her mind wasn’t on rain and lightning. Precious time was ticking away. If Archey and the men got back before they could escape, she wouldn’t have another chance. The fate that loomed in front of her was hell, and she wouldn’t accept it without a fight.
With the boy’s help, they’d torn a hole in the wall that was almost big enough to get out. Almost. And time was running out. Dotty took a piece of wood and slammed it into the exhaust pipe. It loosened but didn’t fall. “Help me,” she said to the boy.
They struck the pipe together, knocking it loose from the stove. Dolly grunted with exertion as she helped the boy push it to the ground outside. They now had an escape route.
“Go on,” she said to the boy.
He hesitated for a moment and she pushed him roughly. Her hands were blistered and raw, her fingernails torn to the quick. “Get out there,” she said. “We have to move.”
“It’s raining hard,” the boy said.
“At least they won’t be able to track us,” Dotty responded coolly. “Now get out there or I’ll leave the both of you. I can only imagine what he’ll do to you for letting me get away.”
The boy slithered through, and Dotty grasped the woman’s arm. Dotty had pulled the curtain down from the doorway and wrapped it around the naked woman. “Let’s go.” At first the woman resisted, but Dotty glared at her. “Get your ass out that hole,” she said. “If it were up to me, I’d leave you, but that boy of yours wouldn’t help me if I did.”
The woman, so thin she only needed half the space, disappeared. Dotty glanced around the kitchen. There was a pone of cornbread and she grabbed it, tucking it into the top of her dress. They’d need something to eat. The woman looked like she’d blow away in a good wind. More food would be nice, but there was nothing else to take. Dotty crawled out the hole. The boy and the woman stood in the rain like animals, patiently waiting.
“What now?” the boy asked.
“Head out toward the road,” Dotty said. She thought for a minute. “No, that’s where they’ll look. Is there another way?”
The boy nodded. “The river’s about four miles to the west. We could go downstream. With this rain, the current will be fast.”
Dotty wiped the rain out of her eyes. The boy was hideous and the woman was dead weight. She’d been condemned to hell with half-wits and the deformed as companions. “Is there a boat?”
“A small one. And paddles.”
“Let’s go,” Dotty said. She didn’t ask him where the river would take them, or how long they’d have to ride the current before they reached civilization. The harsh cost of survival could be paid only one leg at a time. First, they had to get to the boat. She let the boy lead, followed by the woman, and she took the rear. Rocks and sticks stabbed into her feet, but she ignored them.
They passed a shed where saws hung, the double-handled blades used by two men to bring down the big trees. She snatched one off the wall, and though it was awkward, she kept it with her. Boats were often chained to trees, and Dotty had no intention of letting a tree get in her way to freedom. Though the rain muffled the sound, she thought she heard a truck door slam. The afternoon had bled into night, or perhaps the storm was so dense that it blotted the sun. It didn’t matter. She liked the night. The darkness cloaked her from the gaze of her enemy. She put her hand on the woman’s thin shoulder and urged her into a jog. The boy picked up the pace. She slogged through mud and briars, the saw dragging and bumping behind her. She held onto it with grim intention. If push came to shove, she’d saw Dantzler Archey’s legs off at the crotch.
Jonah stood at the edge of Lucille Longier’s yard in the pouring rain. He’d never seen a storm like this one, the sky so dark that late afternoon had turned to night. It felt as if the whole world was turning liquid. Everything in Jonah’s life that had been steady and reliable was falling apart. Mostly it was his view of himself that had shifted and shattered. He wasn’t the man he thought himself to be. It was only by providence that his daughter was alive and well. And now, no matter what it cost him, he would see to her welfare. Even if it meant crawling back to Lucille Longier and begging for the use of her car. The problem was the car was gone.
Headlights cut across the yard, and he stepped deeper into the shrubs. It was Lucille’s car, and he could see that it was her behind the wheel. Someone else was in the front seat. A tall man.
He watched as Lucille parked, got out, and went around to open the door for the man. He wobbled as he got out, and braced himself on the fender. Lucille supported him as she helped him through the rain and onto the porch. He settled into a rocking chair, and she hurried into the house.
Jonah debated what to do. Lucille would never give him the car if he asked in front of another white person. She probably wouldn’t let him use it at all. But he had to find Jade. He’d called the shop and gotten no answer. He’d tried to call Frank’s house, but there was trouble on the line. Sheriff Huey wasn’t to be found, and Jade had disappeared without a trace. He needed the car to hunt for her. With each passing moment, his need grew stronger.
The man on the porch slumped over as if he’d fallen asleep or passed out. Jonah stepped out of the shrubs. He walked across the yard, the rainwater rising over the tops of his shoes. He was almost to the porch when Lucille came out of the house, a glass of amber liquid in her hand. When she saw him, she stopped. Her empty hand went up to her mouth, as if to cover her expression of surprise.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, a tone of reprimand in her voice.
“I came to borrow your car,” he said. “Have you lost your mind?”
He shook his head. The man on the porch looked up, but his expression was uninterested. He was in torment, sunk far too deep in his own worries to give a care for anyone else.
“No, ma’am. Jade is missing, and I need to find her. I don’t have a car, so I came to get yours.”
“You think I should loan you my car?” She sounded amused.
“Jade is your daughter. I’m not asking to borrow your car. I’m taking it.” He went to the driver’s side and checked for the key. It was in the ignition. “I’ll bring it back as soon as I can.”
“If you take that car, I’ll call the law on you.”
“Go ahead. I can’t find Mr. Frank or Mr. Huey anywhere. If I could have, I’d get them to look for Jade.”
He opened the door and got in.
“I’ll have you charged with car theft.”
Jonah looked out the window. He saw the shell of the woman he’d loved for most of his life. The good part of her, the tenderness and caring, was long gone. He’s spent his life loving something that was only half alive.
“You do what you have to do, Miss Lucille. As soon as Jade is safe, I’ll bring the car back.”
He started the car, backed around, and left. In the rearview window, he saw Lucille bending over the man, holding the glass for him to drink. It was only as the view disappeared around a bend that he wondered who the man was and why Lucille was so solicitous of him.
J
ade crouched beneath the kitchen cabinet, the butcher knife clutched in her hand. Junior had made it into the house. She’d heard him in the parlor, had tracked his progress through the dining room and into the kitchen as he’d walked around the table, his breathing harsh and eager.
Now, he was upstairs, and she fought the impulse to crawl out of her hiding place and run. She couldn’t leave Marlena. If Junior found her, she had no doubt he would kill her. Jade shifted in her hiding place, her knees complaining along with her back. She was jammed around the drain pipes, contorted into the only space where she could protect Marlena. If Junior tried to go into the pantry, Jade intended to kill him.
Bitter thoughts were her company as she listened to Junior’s tread. She’d played right into his hands. His threats and intimidation at the hospital had been intended to achieve one thing, a rash action, and she’d done exactly as he wished. She’d taken Marlena, the only witness to his brutality and the abduction of a child. By moving Marlena to an isolated house, with the phone out, she’d put her sister in imminent danger. If Marlena died, no one could testify against Junior.
Thunder rumbled across the sky, and Jade felt the house tremble. The winds had shifted, coming out of the south now. Rain still drummed against the windowpanes, but it wasn’t as heavy. The storm was letting up. She imagined running out of the house to her car, driving through the puddles in the road, water splashing up in a muddy wing as she raced for safety.
She couldn’t leave Marlena, though. Eventually Junior would find her, and he’d finish the job he’d started in the woods four days before.
What little hope Jade had harbored that Suzanna was alive was gone. She thought of her niece, a child who’d never known unconditional love, or much love of any kind. Marlena had cared for the child, but she was deficit in the area of love. She’d never known tenderness or concern from Lucille, and she had no store to share with Suzanna. The child had lived unwanted and emotionally neglected, and now Jade accepted she was dead. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears away. She would grieve for her niece later, when she and Marlena were safe.
There was the sound of something crashing on the second floor, and Jade thought again of running. If Junior searched the second and third floors, she might have time to get to town and get help. But once she started her car, he would realize she was gone. Then he would know Marlena was helpless in the house. No. She couldn’t risk leaving, but she had to think of a place where she’d have the element of surprise. Popping out of the cabinet was a poor choice. The first strike of the knife would be at his calves. Not really a lethal point unless she was lucky enough to sever an artery.
She eased the cabinet door open and crawled out. She kept the knife with her, the blade glinting in a burst of lightning. She stepped into the pantry, where Marlena slumped in a chair. Jade touched her cheek, feeling only a hint of warmth. She was alive, but for how much longer if she didn’t get medical care? Jade found a sheet in the laundry and draped it over her. It wasn’t much of a disguise, but on first glance she looked like a piece of furniture.
The sound of footsteps on the staircase drifted through the open pantry door, and Jade felt panic rise in her lungs. Junior was coming back down, and he was trying to be stealthy. Jade closed the door to the pantry and tiptoed into the dining room. There was a sideboard by the parlor door. If Junior came in through the parlor door, she’d have a chance. If he chose to come in from the foyer door, he’d see her almost immediately.
She used a dining table chair to climb onto the sideboard, then flipped the chair over so that it clattered onto the hardwood floor. She heard Junior pause. He gave a low chuckle.
“I’m tired of this game of hide-and-seek. Now come on out like a good girl, and maybe I won’t hurt you.”
She felt her heart in her ears, a thudding sound that blocked out everything else. The hand clenching the knife was numb. She held her breath and waited, listening to his footfalls move slowly through the parlor toward her.
“Where’s that slut?” Junior asked. “Give her to me and I’ll let you go.”
Jade’s breath came in tiny, shallow puffs. She waited, intent only on the sound of his approach.
Through the crack in the door, she could see him, a dark bulk. He stopped in the doorway, suddenly alert. Lightning lit the room, and for an instant, Jade thought he was looking directly at her. She thought her heart had stopped, but it bumped painfully against her ribs.
He took another step into the room.
Jade tensed, ready for the pounce. Another step. Maybe two.
Junior looked from side to side in the darkness. He turned in her direction, as if he could scent her. “When I find you, I’m going to hurt you bad,” he said as he walked forward.
Frank passed the Buick doing seventy-five, and the fan of water that sheeted over his windshield almost wrecked him. The Buick was moving fast, too. He recognized the car as Lucille Longier’s. He got the patrol car under control, did a U-turn, and headed after the Buick with his lights flashing. In the heavy rain, he’d been unable to see who was driving the car, but if Hubbard was in the vehicle, he was going to jail.
The Buick pulled to the side of the road, and Frank got out and walked to the driver’s side. He was surprised to see Jonah, alone in the car.
“Mr. Frank, I have to find Jade.”
Jonah’s words sent a chill through Frank. He leaned toward the window. “She said she was going to spend the afternoon with you.”
“Some man peeped in on her. She went to town to talk to you.”
Frank didn’t move. He felt the rain beating down on him, the drops sliding down his face and into his mouth. He heard the motor of the Buick running beneath the sound of the rain. He saw Jonah staring into his face, but he was removed from all of it. “When did this happen?” he asked.
“This afternoon, about one o’clock. She went up to the sheriff’s office and she never came back. I can’t find her anywhere.”
“Did she recognize the man peeping at her?”
Jonah shook his head. “She didn’t say she did. She was scared.”
“She might be with Marlena. Have you tried the hospital?”
“No. I’ll check her house again and then the hospital. Where are you going?”
Frank met his gaze. “She might be at my house.” Jonah turned his face so that he stared at the road. “If she’s there, bring her to the hospital.” “I will.”
Jonah stepped lightly on the gas and the Buick drew away. Frank stood in the rain a moment before he got in the patrol car, his body processing the emotions that rippled through him. Once behind the wheel, he pressed the gas pedal to the floor, sheets of water flying to each side. He passed Jonah and saw the look of worry on his face, but he didn’t slow. Hubbard wasn’t important any longer. Nothing mattered except finding Jade and making sure she was safe.
He was almost at the Drexel city limits when he cut off the highway, speeding down the narrow dirt road, ignoring the standing water that crossed it. Halfway through the water, the car shifted, sliding to the right. He pressed the gas harder and swung the wheel. He came out of the slide, hit the asphalt of Highway 13, and drove, mud flying everywhere behind the car.
He turned down his drive going too fast, and he had to brake to avoid hitting a tree. In his headlights, the camellia bushes looked like towering walls of black. Limbs slapped the car as he swerved around each curve. When the house came into view, it was dark. Tree limbs were scattered around the yard, and in the lessening rain, the house looked washed and faded. He pulled to the back and saw Jade’s Hudson with a sigh of relief. The shed doors were open, a fact that tickled his mind, and when they banged wide in the wind, he saw Dotty’s car hidden in the dark recesses. Dread touched him. He slammed on the brakes, killed the motor, and raced toward the dark house.
Jonah sat in the car, the windshield wipers swishing across the glass. In the Buick’s headlights, he saw the trunk of the sweet gum tree that had fallen across the road. It was a big tree, at least four feet in diameter, and a saw would be required to remove it. For some reason, he was reluctant to leave the Buick. It wasn’t the rain that bothered him. He couldn’t put his finger on it, just a feeling of dread. He had to find out if Jade was okay, and he tried to reason with himself that she’d headed home and then found her way blocked by the tree.
He picked up the flashlight that he kept in the glove box and got out, the rain singing against his skin. He stepped over the tree and continued the walk to Jade’s house. At the edge of the yard, he stopped. The house was dark and silent, foreboding even. Rain ran off the tin roof like a waterfall, and he could remember the sound of it inside the house, when he’d been safe with Mose and his mother. Now, the house looked dangerous.
He gripped the flashlight like a club and walked up on the porch. When he twisted the doorknob, it came off in his hand. His heart pumped staccato. He eased the door open and walked inside. If his baby girl was in here, hurt, he had to find her. At first he heard only the drum of the rain on the tin roof, but his ears adjusted, and beneath that was a slow rhythmic creak. He listened in the darkness, trying to place the sound he recognized almost like a part of his body. He’d heard it all his life, all his childhood. He knew it, suddenly. He clicked the flashlight on and swung the beam to the corner of the room. Pet Wilkinson sat in his mother’s old rocking chair, a grin on his face and a piece of flour sack cloth on his lap.
“Where’s your girl?” Pet asked, then reached to his side and picked up a stout wooden club. In the flashlight’s yellow beam, his features were white, his eyes feral.
Jonah clicked off the flashlight.