The Fate of Destiny (Fates #1)

by Bourdon, Danielle

“Let's see what he has to say. Then we can tell him about the dogs,” Farris said.

  Emerson and Theron walked behind the girls and stood at the back of the gathering. Sheriff Tooley, talking into a megaphone, lamented with the citizens about the recent disasters that had struck their town.

  “So I don't want any of you to get discouraged. We've got Federal help coming in for the tornado. Anyone misplaced by the disaster or anyone needing help rebuilding roofs or barns or all that, line up and put your name on the paper. There's a list of folks willin' to do manual labor, too, so we'll match up who needs what when we see how extensive the list is.”

  “What about Betty's Diner?” someone shouted.

  The Sheriff exhaled and reached up to adjust his hat. “Fire officials tell me it was a gas leak. No one could'a seen it coming. We're just real lucky there weren't more hurt in the explosion. The papers are on the tailgate here, folks. Do what you can.”

  He hopped down from the back of the truck.

  Townsfolk mobbed him, closing in for more questions.

  “He's right about that,” Theron said. “Lucky no one else got seriously hurt.”

  Farris reached up to smooth her fingers over the scarf twined around her throat. “Poor Pete. I feel so bad.”

  Emerson scanned the crowd, then glanced at Farris. “At least it was quick. Are you going to tell the Sheriff about the fire at the loft, too? I'm not sure what they can do about it now with Henson gone.”

  “I don't know. There are more important things to worry about. Like the dogs,” Farris said.

  “Hey, Sheriff!” Theron hailed the man with a wave of his hand.

  “Yeah,” Emerson agreed. He watched the Sheriff make his way over.

  “Farris, Beelah, I'm sure glad to see you girls are in one piece,” Tooley said when he arrived.

  “Thanks, Sheriff.” The girls spoke at the same time.

  “We needed to tell you about a pack of wild dogs that attacked us out at Henson's farmhouse last night,” Farris said, getting right to the point.

  Emerson folded his arms over his chest and listened.

  “Pack a' dogs?” Tooley frowned.

  “Yes, there must have been forty or more. They almost got us before we could get inside Henson's house,” Beelah added, a little breathless telling the news.

  “Forty dogs?” Tooley glanced behind and around, as if looking for someone, then back to the group. “Ain't heard of a pack that big roamin' town. Could be they got loose during the tornado, banded up.”

  “I don't think so, Sheriff,” Emerson said. “I had the impression they'd been at this longer than a day or two. Really vicious.”

  “That the last place you saw 'em?” Tooley asked. He tipped his head to the small radio attached to his shirt and put a call in for backup at the Henson place.

  “They were gone this morning when we drove in,” Emerson said.

  “They could have been hiding in the corn fields though.” Beelah looked fretful again.

  “I'll make sure we take care of it. Thanks for lettin' us know, kids. No one got bit, right? You'll have to get a rabies shot if so,” Tooley said.

  “No one got bit. A scratch or two though,” Theron added.

  “And there was a fire, too. At the garage in the back. Farris' loft almost went up in flames,” Beelah rushed to add before Tooley could step away.

  “When was this?” Tooley frowned again. “How much damage?”

  “Two nights ago. Right after the tornado,” Farris said, fidgeting with her scarf. “I don't know how it started.”

  “Inside or--”

  “No, it started outside,” Emerson said. “I saw it from the road and ran over to help the girls get out.”

  “You girls were inside? Why didn't you report it sooner? Any idea what set it off, son?” Tooley glanced between Farris and Beelah, then to Emerson.

  “Well, if you're wondering how the fire started, you're definitely talking to the right person,” a female voice said behind them.

  Emerson whipped a look over his shoulder.

  Devon stood there with a knowing, smug look on her face. She pretended to brush a piece of non-existent lint from the lapel of her ash gray brocade coat. Paired with snug black pants and knee high boots, she looked well put together.

  Immediately, Emerson was suspicious. “What are you talking about?”

  “Yes, young lady, what are you talking about?” Tooley asked, glancing warily between Devon and Emerson. He rested one hand on his belt right above the butt of his gun.

  Farris, Beelah and Theron all turned to stare at Devon, who rocked back and forth on the soles of her shoes.

  “I saw him do it. Start the fire.” Devon gestured at Emerson sort of like Vanna White did when she was emphasizing a vowel or a consonant.

  A collective gasp rippled through the people gathered around. Some, who hadn't dispersed from the street yet, overheard the accusation.

  Farris covered her mouth with her fingers and darted a look from the girl to Emerson and back again. Beelah's eyes were wide as saucers.

  Theron scowled and glared.

  “I think you should explain yourself, young lady. And who are you again?” Tooley asked Emerson.

  “He couldn't have started it! He saved us!” Beelah announced.

  “I'm a distant relative of Hensons. I arrived late at his house, parked out front, and when I couldn't get anyone to answer the front door, I walked around to see if anyone might be out back. That was when I saw this man here toss a match down. The grass lit up right away. He tried to burn the garage down.” Devon arched her brows like she was shocked and appalled.

  Emerson thought he was going to wring Devon's neck right then and there. The wench set him up. The only possible thing he could do was deny it. Fervently.

  “You're a liar. I did no such thing,” Emerson snarled at Devon. Then, to Tooley, he said, “I'm Emerson Ferrera.”

  He looked away from Sheriff Tooley to Farris. She had back-stepped into Beelah, a horrified look on her face. Beelah shook her head in denial—except her eyes were questioning. There was no getting around the fact that Devon had just planted a seed of doubt in both girls minds.

  “I saw you. Sheriff, I'm even willing to testify if you need me to. I guess his conscious got the better of him after he set the fire, huh?” Devon retorted to Beelah.

  “Son, is this true?” Tooley asked.

  “Of course it's not true. I have no idea why she's making all this up, but I helped Farris and Beelah out of the loft. I didn't set the fire.” Emerson hated the way the lie tasted on his tongue. He wasn't used to being put on the spot.

  Devon had a lot to answer for.

  “Did this boy help you and Bee out of the loft, Farris?” Tooley asked.

  “...yes. We might not have made it out if he hadn't been there,” Farris said. She maintained eye contact with Emerson for another few seconds. Then, without warning, she spun away from the group and walked away. Quick little steps with the end of the scarf flapping against her back.

  “Farris, wait!” Beelah frowned at Emerson, then Theron, and darted after Farris.

  “Son, you're going to have to come with me down to the station until we can figure all this out,” Tooley said. He put a hand on Emerson's elbow.

  “Man, this just isn't right. He didn't just get those girls out of the loft, he got several people out of the diner when it exploded, too,” Theron complained.

  “If you don't want to do the time, don't do the crime,” Devon chimed in, sing-song. She smiled on the sly to Emerson and Theron.

  Emerson's nostrils flared. He thought about fighting off the Sheriff. About using Chaos as a distraction. Whatever Devon was up to—it was no good. Worse than whatever he could have imagined. If the Sheriff took him in he would be detained probably for the rest of the day, leaving Farris unprotected. But then he wouldn't just be locked up for suspicion of arson. They would tack on resisting arrest, a charge he couldn't fight. It might add another day to the time h
e spent behind bars.

  “We'll get it all sorted, son,” Tooley said to Theron. He guided Emerson away from the few lingering people who had been listening to the confrontation. “Young lady, follow us to the station, please.”

  “Let me just get my car, Sheriff!” Devon said. She turned and jogged toward where she presumably parked her vehicle.

  “Theron, you know what you have to do,” Emerson said over his shoulder.

  “Don't worry, brother. I got your back. Just get out as fast as you can.” Theron spun away and jogged after the girls.

  Fighting off fury, Emerson allowed the Sheriff to get him into the back of a patrol car and drive him to jail.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Farris marched along the front of the shops on Newcastle Avenue, only intending on putting as much distance between her and Emerson as possible. She should have known better. Should have realized it was too good to be true. That he was too good to be true. Not a person who trusted others easily, she'd let her guard down, finally, and let Emerson in.

  At least a little. It was more than she'd done for anyone else in a long time. After the ordeal with her mother and the way some of the kids teased and taunted her, Farris was slower to open up to people than she used to be. Beelah was her best friend, had been since they were children, and she didn't need more than that in her life. Beelah's parents had become almost a family of her own and Henson, for the last half year, had made her feel welcome in his life.

  That was enough.

  She didn't need the trauma and heartache of Emerson.

  So why did it hurt so bad, hearing that strange girl accuse Emerson of starting the fire? She'd been more than shocked. More than heartbroken. The sting was still with her. Emerson and Theron had both put their lives on the line last night, hadn't run away when danger came calling.

  If she was truthful, a knot of doubt about the accusations lingered. Denial fought hard to replace confusion and indignation. There was a part of her that just didn't believe he was capable of something like that. Not after all the things he'd done to help her.

  It was hard to know what was right and wrong with the strange girl's words ringing in her ears.

  Confused and distressed, she ignored the pain in her legs, her arms and her face.

  “Farris!” Beelah rushed to catch up with her. Once at her side, she kept pace, walking fast. “What was that all about? Who was that girl?”

  “I don't know, Bee.”

  “Did she seem like...almost gleeful to blame Emerson for the fire? I caught her smirking at him.”

  “I didn't pay attention after she said she'd seen him set the fire.” Farris pressed her lips together.

  “You don't think he did it, do you?”

  Farris stopped walking and faced Bee, who halted at once. “Remember when I asked him why he was there? That I thought it was kind of convenient for him to be so close when it happened? He walked from town, he said—when he's clearly got a very nice car he drives otherwise. I let it go though because he helped us get out. But for a minute or so, I was suspicious.”

  Beelah, wide-eyed, licked her lips. “C'mon, Farris. I think, down deep, you know he wouldn't do that to you. I mean...what does he gain? What's the reason? There doesn't seem to be any motivation.”

  “No, there doesn't. Then again, we don't know him or Theron very well at all, do we? Who knows why people do what they do.” Or why they go crazy. Farris rubbed her forehead with her fingertips.

  “Hey! Beelah, Farris, wait up.” Theron called out behind them, his boots thudding on the sidewalk.

  Farris glanced at him then turned the other way and started walking again.

  “Farris! Let's see what Theron has to say.” Beelah hurried at her side, plucking at the sleeve of her uniform to get her to stop.

  “Farris, I swear Emerson wouldn't do anything like that. You gotta listen to me.” Theron caught up to the girls and with a gentle hand, caught Farris' elbow.

  She yanked it out of his grasp and turned to face him. “I don't know what to believe anymore. All this insane stuff keeps happening and now some weird girl shows up, saying she saw him light the fire. What am I supposed to think?”

  “You're supposed to trust him,” Theron said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

  The faint, disapproving tone he used rankled Farris. She frowned. It hurt to frown. “How do you know he didn't start it if you weren't there? The girl said she saw him do it.”

  “Do you really believe that? After all he's done for you?” Theron stared at Farris, his expression waning to match the discontent in his voice.

  She upturned her palms in a helpless gesture. “I don't know. I don't know!”

  “Well, I do know. He considers you—and Beelah too—a friend. Emerson doesn't make friends very easy. He also doesn't stick around places he's visiting and yet he's still here.”

  “I don't understand why that girl would accuse him of doing that unless she actually saw him do it.” Farris couldn't get past that point.

  Theron tossed his head to jerk a shank of black hair out of his face. He exhaled and gazed past both girls like he was considering something important.

  “He knows her,” Theron finally said.

  “What?” Beelah said.

  “Yeah. She's...manipulative. Can't trust her. He's caught her in several lies or something already. I haven't had a chance to really question him because things keep happening. But it's her style to do this, to try and bust his chops when he's not guilty.” Theron looked back at the girls.

  “Do you know her?” Farris asked. Now she felt like a heel.

  “I know of her. Through Emerson. Haven't had the misfortune of bumping into her until today. Now I know why he dislikes her so much.”

  “So you think she lied to get Emerson in trouble?”

  “That's exactly what I think. And it worked.” Theron wouldn't look away from Farris.

  Crossing her arms over her chest, she stared back. “This is all messed up, Theron. All of it.”

  “I know it is. I wish there was more I could do—right now though, I'm more concerned with getting Emerson freed than anything. I'm betting that girl won't even show at the station, which should help him get out faster.”

  Farris dropped her gaze to her feet. She stared at her ruined shoes, shifting her toes inside the leather. She wanted to believe Theron. Wanted to believe in Emerson. None of this set well, especially after the rough few days they'd all had.

  “I want explanations. Tell him to find us at Henson's when he gets out,” Farris said, looking at Theron again.

  “Where are you going? I should go with you--”

  “No, sorry. I have a private errand to tend to. Thanks, though.” Farris let Theron down as easy as she could. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate Theron's desire to watch her and Bee's back. It was just...overwhelming.

  He nodded. “I'll tell him to find you at Henson's, then. Hey—be careful, all right?”

  “We will. C'mon, Bee.” Farris reached out to turn Beelah with her to walk the other way. Back toward the truck.

  “Where are we going?” Beelah whispered.

  “To pay a visit to my mother.”

  . . .

  Emerson paced his cell like a caged lion. It was a small cell located in the back where the offices were, tucked side by side with several others. None of the other cells were occupied.

  Only his.

  The Sheriff had listened to everything he said on the way over, and Emerson believed the man would release him sooner than later when Devon failed to show.

  Of course she wouldn't show. She couldn't prove she was any kind of relation to Henson, first off, and second she probably hadn't brought identification with her. He decided to give the good Sheriff an hour to spring him before he resorted to Chaos.

  Five minutes later, Tooley pushed through the door separating the front from the back. He had keys in his fingers.

  “Got someone out front who backs up what you and your friends say
, Emerson.”

  “Who is that?” he asked, puzzled.

  “Finch. Works at the High School. Says he remembers you helping the girls out the night of the tornado and then went back out to help more folks.” Tooley stopped on the other side of the iron bars.

  Emerson plucked his coat up off the bench and wandered closer. “That's right. What about the girl?”

  “She ain't showed up. Wondering if she just wasn't out for revenge of some sort.”

  “I don't know her, so I can't say. I just know I wouldn't put Farris and Bee in harms way.” Shrugging on his coat, he stared at Tooley. The lie fell easily enough from his lips.

  Tooley nodded. “That's what all the evidence points to. I don't have enough to hold ya, son, and with Finch out there demanding that you done good, I'm gonna let you go. Don't want to hear you been causin' trouble after this, all right?” He inserted the key into the lock and swung the heavy gate open.

  “You won't. Thanks, Sheriff.” Emerson clapped the Sheriff on the shoulder and stepped out of the cell. Tooley hadn't fingerprinted or even drawn up any paperwork yet. There were definitely advantages to small towns.

  “Maybe find Farris and explain, huh?” The Sheriff closed the cell door.

  “First thing on my list, Sheriff.” Emerson smiled at Tooley and exited into the foyer of the station. From there it was a short walk to the doors that led outside.

  He estimated he'd been detained perhaps twenty minutes, no more.

  Instead of finding Farris, Bee and Theron, he walked at a brisk pace away from the station, aiming for another row of buildings with a tree line behind it.

  Once he'd obscured himself in the heavy shadows of an oak tree, Emerson uttered a chant and parted the very air in front of him with his hands. Like peeling apart two sides of invisible material. Through the slit he made, the chant still falling from his lips in a whisper, he caught a glimpse of the Steel Room.

  Emerson stepped through, leaving one country behind for another.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The clock on the radio in the Chevy displayed the time: 10:02.