Into the Night

by Debra Webb

She thought of the shack and how he had said to meet him there.

  Maybe not. She could hang onto hope for a little while longer.

  Deacon was already standing at the truck when she made it back there.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he said, his face dark with fury.

  If he had not heard Levi’s message about meeting him at the shack, hopefully the others hadn’t either.

  “We have one more stop.” She explained what Levi had whispered to her as they climbed into his truck.

  “Where?” He didn’t sound entirely convinced.

  “It’s an old tumbledown shack where we used to play as kids. I think it’s actually on the neighboring property, but that never stopped us from using it.”

  After a couple of false starts she finally directed him down the right dirt road. Narrow, crowded on both sides by the forest, the road only led as far as the branch of the creek that crossed a portion of both properties. Fed by an underground stream, there was always water running in the creek—even during the hottest part of the year, like now.

  The sound of the trickling water was soothing to her frazzled nerves. She had loved exploring these woods as a kid. They were the only pleasant memories she had after her mother’s death. Deacon locked up his truck and moved along the side of the creek with her.

  “There’s a point where we have to cross to the other side.” She hoped that fallen tree trunk was still sturdy enough to act as a bridge or they would be getting wet.

  “You have any reason to doubt his motives for meeting you here?”

  “No. If he had wanted to hurt me he would have had the guards take me in the house and keep me until Marcus came home.”

  “Valid point.”

  It was a good half mile before they reached the crossing point. Neither she nor Deacon had spoken after that initial burst of conversation. Sound carried in the woods. No one wanted to end up a target.

  “I’ll go first,” Deacon suggested. “If it’ll hold me, it’ll hold you.”

  “If you’re sure.” She seriously appreciated his need to play the part of the gentleman. Part of her worried about him tiring of seeing after her. She was really starting to like his company for far more than his gallantry.

  So not smart, Cece.

  He adjusted his hat and stepped up onto the old log. About midway across it shifted and Cece’s breath caught. Then he was on the other side.

  “You think you can handle the pressure?” he asked.

  “Get real. I did this a million times as a kid.”

  She took a breath and stepped up onto the log. Without hesitating, she moved across the length of it and hopped down on the other side.

  “What did I tell you?”

  He grinned. “Like riding a bike, huh?”

  “Exactly.” Speaking of that, she had to get her driver’s license renewed. Tomorrow, she decided. No putting it off. Her job search had to start tomorrow, as well as reporting in with her probation officer.

  The shack wasn’t far once they were across the creek. It looked deserted and ready to fall in. Funny, when they were kids it had seemed so big and so cool. Like a pirate’s stronghold or a gangster’s hideout.

  “Is that it?”

  She nodded. “It’s been a while since I was here.”

  Before she reached the shack, Levi stepped from behind it. He glared at Deacon and then at her. “What the hell are you doing, Cece?”

  “I could ask you the same thing.” All the anger she had been holding back since walking through those gates at the prison and finding no one waiting for her ignited inside her. “You were supposed to pick me up. Do you have any idea how it felt to wait and wait and finally realize that no one was coming?”

  “I’m sorry. Marcus wouldn’t let me.”

  “Oh, so Marcus is your lord and master now?” She shook her head. “How did this happen, Levi?”

  “First...” Her little brother glowered at her. “Who the hell is this?”

  “A friend.” She refused to tell him anything else. He had no right to demand anything from her.

  “You think I’m going to talk in front of this friend?”

  She was grateful Deacon kept quiet. “I trust him completely. You can trust him, too. He’s helping me.” When Levi would have argued, she added, “He kept Ricky and his friends from doing no-telling-what to me last night.” She pointed to Deacon. “He stopped the two guys who planned to burn me out the night before. Oh, and did I mention that he kept a herd of Marcus’s zombies from stoning me outside Ollie’s?”

  It wasn’t until that moment, standing there staring at her little brother and recounting all that had happened in less than forty-eight hours, that the landslide of emotions hit her. She started to cry and she couldn’t stop. No matter that she wanted to. No matter that she was embarrassing the hell out of herself. No matter that she hated the weakness. She. Could. Not. Stop.

  “Cece, I’m sorry.” Levi wrapped his arms around her. “I am so sorry. I messed up again.”

  She shuddered with the sobs rocking through her weary body. She was so tired of all of it. She should just leave and never look back.

  But then she would never be free of this millstone. And all her grandmother had done would be for naught.

  Levi drew back from her, held her by the shoulders. “After I came to see you the last time, I decided I was going to try and find the truth to save you the trouble. I know how much you want to prove your innocence.” He exhaled a big breath. “It’s just taken me longer than I expected.”

  Cece swiped at her eyes. “What’re you talking about? This is too dangerous. You shouldn’t be trying to fool Marcus. He’s capable of anything, including killing you, you know that.”

  “I’m getting close, Cece. I heard him and Sierra talking the other night. She was telling him that he had to do something or you would figure it all out.”

  The words gave her pause. “Figure out what?”

  “I don’t know yet. For the first couple of weeks I was there they were real careful not to say anything around me or to leave me alone at the house. But they’re loosening up now. Today was the first time I was ever able to stay at the house alone.”

  “What about the guards?”

  He shook his head. “They don’t come inside. I’m going through the house one room at a time looking for whatever I can find.”

  “It’s too dangerous. Just forget it and come home with me.” She did not want to lose her little brother. She had lost everyone else she cared about. She could not lose him, too. Nothing else was as important as his safety.

  “Just let me do this. Let me keep listening and looking. When I have something, I’ll come to you. Until then, you stay away from Marcus and Sierra. They’re crazy, Cece.” His eyes were wide with worry. “I mean, like, freaky crazy. I think Sierra might be on some sort of drugs. All she talks about is how she was daddy’s princess and everybody better start treating her like one.”

  Obviously there was no talking him out of this. “Just be careful. Don’t do anything too risky.”

  “I won’t. I’m careful, I promise.”

  Cece hugged him hard. “I can’t lose you,” she whispered against his ear.

  “I better get back.” He drew away and smiled at her. “You look good, Cece. A little pale, but good.”

  She slugged him on the shoulder. “You know how to sweet-talk a girl.”

  He glanced at Deacon. “I don’t know about this guy, though.”

  “I do,” Cece assured him.

  They hugged some more and then went their separate ways.

  Cece could not talk as she and Deacon walked back to his truck. Her emotions were too raw. Too full, pressing against her breastbone.

  When they were on the road headed toward home, she could not hold back anymore. She started to cry again. God, how she hat
ed blubbering this way.

  This time it was Deacon who held her. He pulled over to the side of the road and pulled her into his arms. He held her until she had cried herself out. Until there were no more tears left.

  And then he took her home.

  * * *

  “YOU REALLY DID not have to go to all this trouble.”

  Deacon grinned. “I’m not exactly a chef but I always prided myself in making a hell of a grilled cheese sandwich.”

  She nibbled another bite. “The extra cheese is perfect.”

  Deacon picked up his glass of iced tea and took a swallow. “I’m glad you were able to see Levi today. I know you were worried about him.”

  He had considered several ways to bring up the subject again but he had put it off. She had been so torn up after the visit with her younger brother, he’d felt damned sorry for her.

  He wasn’t supposed to. Hated that he did, but he wasn’t heartless.

  Apparently, the girl he had thought was fully capable of killing another human wasn’t entirely heartless, either. No one without a heart could cry like that.

  “Me, too. But I’m worried about him. He wants to be my hero but I’m so worried he will get himself killed.”

  “You believe Marcus and his followers are capable of murder?”

  She nodded and stared down at her sandwich.

  “Cece? What’s going on?” The lady had something on her mind. Something she was worried about telling him. Anticipation drummed in his chest. “You should know by now you can talk to me. I’m on your side in all this. You can trust me on that one. I won’t let you down.”

  Three lies in a row. He was on a roll.

  Funny thing was, they didn’t feel like lies.

  “There was a man.” She clasped her hands together, her forearms braced on her knees. “Back when everything went to hell. His name was K.C., you know, like the initials.”

  Shock radiated through Deacon. K.C. was the cover name Jack had been using. K for Kelley and C for Charlie, his kids.

  “He came around my grandmother’s house a few times asking questions. I think he was some kind of undercover agent or...” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Anyway, my grandmother wouldn’t talk to him. She warned me not to, either. She said he was trouble and that we did not need any trouble. She was trying to keep a low profile because my father was on one of his rampages.”

  “Rampages?” It was all Deacon could do not to grab her and shake her. He needed answers and it felt as if he was so damned close.

  “Every so often he would decide I was his daughter and he wanted me back. He would give my grandmother hell. I suspected she was giving him money to get him to stay away from me, but she would never admit as much.”

  “So you never spoke to this K.C.?” He reminded himself to breathe. To keep the tension inside where she couldn’t see.

  “He caught up with me once at the diner where I worked as a waitress. It was the only time he tried to talk to me. I guess my grandmother put the fear of God in him because he never approached me before or after that day.”

  “What happened?”

  “He asked me if I was ever aware of my father being involved with a group known as Resurrection. I had heard of them. A secret society of preppers—you know, the doomsday people. I told him the truth, that if my father had anything to do with them, I knew nothing about it. The members don’t want anyone to know who they are, you know? I heard my father say once that it was because when Armageddon comes they don’t want the fools who aren’t prepared to come to them for help.”

  “Did this K.C. seem okay? Upset or angry by your answer?”

  “He was nice. Kind, you know, in a fatherly sort of way. Not that I had ever had a role model to go by, but he was very nice. I didn’t understand why my grandmother was so afraid of him. Anyway, I never saw him again after that. I guess I couldn’t give him what he needed so he moved on. He seemed really intent on learning about my father’s connection to that group.”

  “You’re certain your father wasn’t part of them?”

  “I don’t think so, but I really tried to stay clear of him. Even before I left home, I avoided him like the plague. We hated each other.”

  “Would Levi know? He stayed home after you left, right? You think he was approached by this K.C. guy?”

  She searched his face, his eyes. “I don’t know. He never mentioned the prepper stuff or the man. Do you know him?”

  This was the moment. If he lied and later she found out—and she would—she wouldn’t forgive him. If he told the truth, she could balk here and now.

  He was too close to take the risk.

  “I’m just looking at all the possibilities.” When she still looked suspicious, he posed a question that he thought would erase that look from her eyes. “You think this K.C. could have had something to do with your father’s murder?”

  She frowned. “I don’t know. I never considered the possibility. I guess it’s possible.” She turned back to Deacon. “But he was really nice, so I don’t know.”

  Nice.

  Really nice.

  The realization that this woman—the woman he had studied and obsessed over for months—knew nothing about Jack or his disappearance hit him square between the eyes.

  She wasn’t the one.

  He had despised her for so long. Hated her, actually. Dreamed of taking her down. Those people who had thrown stones at her that first day were likely there because he had leaked the date and time of her exit from prison. He had wanted her to be humiliated, shamed.

  And he had been wrong.

  “I’m sorry.” The words choked out of him before he could stop them.

  She blinked. “Why are you sorry?”

  Before he could answer, she reached for his hand and took it in her own. “You’ve been so nice to me, Deacon. I’m not sure how I could have gotten through all this without your help. Thank you.”

  He managed a smile though he felt sick—sick at what he had done. “You don’t need to thank me.”

  “I know you didn’t want to kiss me when I asked. But is it okay if I kiss you? On the cheek, I mean? To show my appreciation.”

  “Sure.”

  She stretched toward him and kissed him on the jaw. Her lips were soft, like a butterfly’s wings against his skin.

  She drew away quickly, shot to her feet as if she intended to run. “I should clean up the mess in the kitchen.”

  “I’ll help.” He stood, reached for his plate.

  “You did the cooking,” she argued.

  “At least let me watch.”

  “Fine.” She picked up her plate and glass and led the way over to the sink.

  He watched as she filled it with hot water. There was no dishwasher. When she’d wiped down the counter and the stovetop, he decided to dig a little deeper into the older brother.

  “Based on what I know about Marcus, he never married. No kids.”

  She paused, her hands deep in the sudsy water. “There was a girl back when he was in high school, but they broke up and as far as I know there wasn’t another serious relationship.”

  “You think he has been too focused on building his followers? Or maybe what he really wants, he can’t have because of his beliefs. Maybe he fell for someone who isn’t a follower?”

  “It’s possible, I guess, but Marcus is so uptight. I can’t see him doing anything like that. He would die first. He’s just a loner, I think. He stopped having friends and participating in extracurricular activities at school when he was really young, like twelve or thirteen. He was that devoted to following in our father’s footsteps.

  “He was the only teenage boy I knew who spent all his free time with the elderly of the congregation. Every time one of them would pass away he would lock himself in his room for days. Maybe he used up all his compassion when he was
young and had none left by the time he was an adult. He certainly never had any for me.”

  Deacon picked up a tea towel and reached for the plate she had rinsed. “What about Sierra? Was she similarly devoted?”

  Cece shook her head. “When we were little kids, she adored me. The three of us, including Levi, played all the time and we were happy. As happy as kids in our situation could be. But then about the time our father kicked me out, she changed. It was like she suddenly hated me. She hardly left the house. It wasn’t until she finally had a boyfriend that I started to see her around town again. She still had nothing to say to me, but at least she acted somewhat normal. Whenever I’d ask Levi he would only say that she was nuts. He thinks she was taking drugs even back then.”

  Her family had been devastated after their mother’s death. Deacon was beginning to think it had more to do with Marcus and Sierra than it did with the father.

  He watched her rinse the sink and dry her hands.

  When had this investigation become about her and her family instead of his partner?

  Chapter Nine

  Monday, August 5

  Cece watched as the number on the digital readout changed from 21 to 22, then she stared at the blue tag with the number 25 in her hand.

  Apparently the first week of the month was the busy time at the driver’s license renewal office. She sighed. She still didn’t feel comfortable driving, but she supposed that would come with time. Living in the small-town South, it was necessary. There were no handy buses or trains to take you around town.

  Deacon had offered to bring her but she had decided she needed some time alone. She glanced around the crowded lobby. Not that she was alone, by any means, but so far no one had recognized her. Basically she was alone. Everyone in the lobby was either scrolling on their cell phones or chatting with their neighbor in the next chair.

  Since Cece had no cell phone and didn’t know either of the older men seated next to her, she just sat there. If she was very still maybe they wouldn’t notice her and strike up a conversation. It was human nature to ask about school, jobs, kids, the everyday sorts of things. Telling anyone she had spent her college years in prison and had no boyfriend, much less a husband and kids, was not exactly an acceptable icebreaker. The person asking would no doubt regret having done so.