So Dark the Night

by Margaret Daley

  Roy’s heart stopped beating for a painful few seconds, his breath trapped in his lungs.

  “Roy, what aren’t you telling me?”

  “Manny and me didn’t get the papers. We didn’t have time to search the cabin thoroughly.”

  “So they’re still at the cabin?”

  “I think so.”

  “You think so?”

  “Derek never said where they was. He wasn’t gonna talk. But I believe he brought them with him when he came to Crystal Springs. They’re at that cabin somewhere, hidden so well the sheriff hasn’t found them.”

  “But you don’t know for sure?”

  The lethal edge to his employer’s words cut through Roy, leaving him shaking in his boots. “As soon as the sheriff is through with the cabin, we’ll search it until we find what you need.”

  “You better. And keep me posted on Emma St. James.”

  “Will do.” Roy quickly hung up, his hand trembling so badly he dropped the receiver into its cradle, its loud sound snaking down his spine.

  Emma felt the warmth of the sunshine as it flooded the room and slanted across her bed. Earlier she’d heard the nurse opening the curtain and had wondered why the woman even bothered, because it didn’t make any difference whether there was light in the room or not. But she hadn’t voiced her thought aloud.

  As with the day before, darkness greeted her. To keep her panic at bay she kept her eyes closed, pretending the darkness was due to that rather than the fact she couldn’t see anymore. She didn’t like pity parties and had never allowed herself one. But then she had never been blind before, either. She’d never lost the one person who had understood her, accepted her for who she was.

  Clasping the sides of her head, she shuddered. “Don’t go there, Emma. Not a good place.” Another shudder trembled through her body, leaving a coldness in its wake.

  The door swishing open intruded into her thoughts, bringing her straight up in bed to turn her face toward the noise. “Who is it?” She couldn’t shake the idea she could be a target. Even though she had bravely told her father the day before that she could take care of herself, she had her doubts.

  “Colin Fitzpatrick.”

  The tension siphoned from her at the velvet smoothness of his voice as though he could mesmerize a person with its mere sound. “Nothing’s changed. I’m past saving.”

  “No one’s past saving if she wants to be saved.”

  “I don’t know if I agree with you, but come on in since you’re here.” The idea that she didn’t have to spend the next few minutes alone lifted her spirits. But she wasn’t ready to admit it to anyone, especially Reverend Colin Fitzpatrick. “What brings you by?”

  “You.”

  His answer made her spirits rise even more, and she didn’t understand why. She leaned toward the sound of his voice. “I’m getting out of here later this afternoon. I get to escape all the poking and prodding.”

  “Where are you going when you escape?”

  “Haven’t the faintest idea. Any suggestions?”

  “Actually, I do.”

  His words took her by surprise and that didn’t happen very often. “Where?” she asked, a breathless quality to her voice, her mouth and throat still so parched she felt she’d eaten a bowl of cotton for lunch.

  “My aunt’s. She has extended an invitation for you to stay with her.”

  “Why? She doesn’t know me.”

  “I asked her to.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want you to be alone right now.”

  “Do you think I’m helpless?”

  “No.”

  “Do you think I’m in danger?”

  “It’s a possibility and my aunt can certainly take care of you.”

  “Is she with the police?”

  “She’s retired from the army, but her last job was teaching people how to defend themselves.”

  When he had said retired, a vision of a woman in her sixties or seventies, white haired, bent over, popped into Emma’s mind. Even if his aunt had taught self-defense and had been in the army, she was hardly someone who could take care of her. “How old is she?”

  “Forty-six.”

  “And she’s retired?”

  “Only from the army. She writes children’s books now.”

  Conflicting images flowed through her mind—none of them of someone who she thought could protect her. “If your aunt’s forty-six, how old are you? Twenty?”

  “Thirty-six, so she’s more like a big sister than an aunt, and she won’t let me call her Aunt Grace. Just Grace.”

  His answer sent relief through her and she wasn’t sure why. “I still don’t understand how a stranger would want to help me.”

  “You’ll understand when you meet Grace. My daughters practically live over at her house. They think she’s cool.”

  “Daughters? You’re married?” Of course, he would be. Why would she think otherwise and why had she bothered to ask?

  “My wife died four years ago. I have fifteen-year-old twins who have tested this father’s patience on more than one occasion.”

  Exasperation roughened his voice, masking his Southern drawl. Emma laughed. “That’s what teenage girls are put on this earth for.”

  “To test fathers’ patience?”

  “To be exasperating.” Memories of her own father, absent from her teenage years, flooded her mind and all laughter faded.

  “Then they have fulfilled their calling. So what do you say? Want to spend some time in Crystal Springs recovering?”

  Thinking about the blank pages of her mind chilled her to the marrow of her bones. Whom should she trust?

  FOUR

  Emma grasped Colin’s elbow and allowed him to lead her to his aunt’s porch. On the last step, Emma’s foot caught and she stumbled forward. Colin caught her before she fell flat on her face. She gritted her teeth, feeling the heat of embarrassment scorching her cheeks. The simple act of walking was even difficult now. Ever since she’d left her hospital room twenty minutes ago, she felt as though she were Alice in Wonderland, nothing as it seemed and everything different.

  “Okay?”

  His concern brought her anger to the foreground. “I’m just great. I love being led around like a child.” The second she said that last sentence, she sensed Colin stiffen beside her.

  He proceeded forward, his arm still wrapped about her. She stepped away. For a few seconds she stood alone, not sure what lay in front or to the side. Her vulnerability increased, making a mockery of her sense of independence, something she had always been proud of and had desperately needed. No more. She had to depend on others—virtual strangers—and she wasn’t sure how she would cope. But staying with her mother or father had not been an option.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You’ve done more than enough for me. Any person who can avoid the press as you did at the hospital has my debt of gratitude.”

  “I know all the ways into the hospital. They don’t. It was a piece of cake.”

  “It won’t be long before they figure out where I am. Are you ready for them?”

  “They haven’t met my aunt. She’ll take care of them.”

  The chimes of the bell announced their arrival and caused Emma to wonder again at the decision she’d made in the hospital. Having no one really to turn to was a sad statement on her life. Until now, she hadn’t even realized how isolated she was from others.

  A good minute later the door opened. The scents of apples and cinnamon wafted to Emma, causing her mouth to water. She inhaled a deep breath of the delicious smells, her appetite aroused for the first time in days.

  “You must be Emma St. James,” a woman said in a voice that was loud and commanding with a thick Southern drawl.

  A hand larger than hers took hold of Emma’s and pumped her arm in a vigorous handshake.

  “I’m Colin’s aunt, Grace. Come in. Come in.”

  The woman clasped her and pulled her into the house. Emma thought of
a steamroller barreling over her. Her mind spun, her senses assaulted with so much unfamiliarity. The unknown, in more ways than one, lay before her and a panicky feeling grew.

  “I’m finishing up in the kitchen. Colin, bring her on in while I take the pies out of the oven.”

  His aunt released her grip on Emma. Grace’s footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor as she hurried away.

  He shifted toward her. “Here, take my arm.”

  Emma froze. Her mind continued to reel with sensations, smells and sounds coming at her from all sides, overloading her. A clock ticked to the right of her while gospel music played in the background. Infused in the scents of cinnamon and apples was a lemony odor with a faint hint of bleach. Chimes noting the hour of two blared through the din.

  “Emma?” Colin’s gentle voice added to all the other noises bombarding her.

  “Stop.” She shook her head, backing up a pace. “I can’t do this.” Her impulse was to turn around and flee, then the reality of her situation gripped her and she knew she wouldn’t be going anywhere. She didn’t even know where the door was!

  “I’m sorry. I can show you to your room, instead. Grace will understand.”

  Will she? I don’t. “Please. I’m tired.” She winced at the weak thread to her words, but feelings of hopelessness and helplessness assailed her, pressing her down into a black void she was afraid she would never emerge from.

  He gave her his arm again, then began plodding forward, one slow step at a time. “Grace has fixed up a bedroom in the back on the first floor. That way you don’t—”

  “Have to break my neck on the stairs,” she said, thinking of the near accident on the porch.

  “Well, maybe that, too. But what I was going to say is that you don’t have to learn the layout of the second story.”

  Learn the layout? The realization she would have to fumble her way around the house or have someone lead her made her want to escape to her room, pull the covers over her head and never come out.

  They stopped. She heard the sound of a door creaking open.

  “I’ll oil the hinges,” Colin said, going ahead of her into the bedroom, then guiding her through the entrance.

  “Don’t.”

  He chuckled. “I guess it’s a pretty effective way of telling if someone comes into your room.”

  His laugh was infectious, the sound almost shoving her melancholy mood to the background. “I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

  “Let me start by describing this room. I’ll help you pace it off, too.”

  “You sound like you’ve had experience with this.”

  Even though she couldn’t see his expression, she knew he was frowning. Tension emanated off him in waves. Silence electrified the air, and his touch tightened for a few seconds before his fingers relaxed about hers. Her natural curiosity arose, and she wondered about the man who had taken her into his family. All she knew was his kindness and his gentle, deep voice. And the warmth of his touch, she added as he moved forward.

  “We’ll count off from the door to the bed. Ready?”

  She nodded, following his lead and listening to him as he counted the steps to the bed.

  “Seven. There’s a bathroom off this room. Do you want to see how far that is?”

  She liked that he was giving her a choice, giving her a tiny bit of power in her life, which at the moment seemed so out of her control. Ever since the one time she’d lost control, it had been important she maintained it. She didn’t want to relive those feelings of a few years ago. “Yes, please.”

  Again she walked across the room with Colin plastered next to her. He was a large man and from the brief time he had taken hold of her to keep her from falling she could tell that he was muscularly built if his arms and chest were any indication of the rest of him.

  “Five.” Standing in the doorway to the bathroom, he said, “The counter is to the left. You can slide your hand along it and the toilet is right next to it with the tub on the other side. You want to try it?”

  Emma felt the smoothness of the door frame then the cool tile of the counter. Slipping her fingers along it, she encountered the sink then the end. She inched one foot forward until she discovered the toilet. Then sidling in front of it, she found the tub. After exploring the bathroom for a few minutes, she fumbled her way back to its entrance.

  Colin offered her his arm.

  “No. I want to do it on my own. Five steps to the bed.”

  She started forward, counting to herself. Her shins tingled with anticipation of running into an obstacle. When she reached three, she held her arms out in front of her to search for the bed. At five she bumped into it. She groped along until she came to the left-side corner, then turned and walked toward what she hoped was the doorway into the bedroom, counting off seven paces. Again she expected to run into something with every step she took, making her movements stiff and awkward, conjuring up an image of Dr. Frankenstein’s monster from an old movie she’d seen once. She didn’t care what she must look like because she was determined to master this room, today.

  When she grasped the wooden door frame, she sank against it, dragging in deep breaths. Exhaustion wrapped about her like a heavy wet blanket, pulling her down.

  “Do you want to rest for a while before I show you the rest of the downstairs?”

  His gentle voice coming at her from a few feet away startled her. She hadn’t been listening for his approach, which was muffled by the thick carpet. Her vulnerability mushroomed, constricting her chest until it hurt. Again, that panicky feeling clawed at her composure.

  “I’m sorry, Emma. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  She pushed herself away from the door frame. “At the hospital you said my luggage and car were delivered here.”

  “The car is parked in back and your suitcase is on the bed. J.T. had to tow the car here.”

  “Why? My keys should be in my purse. Where is it?”

  A long moment of silence filled the room before Colin replied, “I don’t know. J.T. didn’t bring it with your other things.”

  “He didn’t find it?” Her voice rose with thoughts of Derek’s killer going through her handbag, learning all kinds of personal information about her.

  “I’ll check with him and see. But there shouldn’t have been any reason for him to keep it. Where was it? In the car?”

  Emma searched the blank corners of her mind but couldn’t remember where her purse had been last. She muttered the words she had spoken too much lately, “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll let J.T. know. You’ll probably want to cancel your credit cards.”

  “I only have one, and I can call my business manager to take care of that.”

  “There’s a phone on the left side table by the bed. Grace won’t mind if you call. Do you want me to dial the number?”

  “No,” she replied with more force than she intended. She was going to do what she could by herself even if it took a while.

  Remembering the number of steps, Emma made her way to the bed, a little more confident in what she was doing. She fumbled until her hand encountered the phone, then running the tips of her fingers along the buttons, after several tries, she finally placed the call to Adam Moore.

  Five minutes later, she hung up from talking with her business manager and accountant, relieved not to answer any more of his questions. Even though she was weary, she turned in Colin’s direction and said, “Tell me about this room. What else is in here besides this bed and bedside table?”

  He came to her and faced the same direction she was, as though putting himself in her shoes, his arm brushing against hers. “This is a large bedroom with plenty of space to move about. You know where the king-sized bed is. There’s an end table with a lamp on the other side, too. Behind the bedside tables are two small windows that face the south. Across from the end of the bed is a chest of drawers. To its right is a lounge chair. The closet is two feet from the bathroom to the right.”

  “I want to
walk the perimeter.” Emma took his upper arm on his left side so she could feel the pieces of furniture as they circled the room.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to rest first?”

  “No!” Her body ached with fatigue, her shoulder throbbing, but she wouldn’t lie down until she knew every inch of her bedroom.

  “Is she settled in?” Grace asked, pouring herself a cup of coffee then Colin one.

  “She’s finally resting.” Colin took the mug and sat at the kitchen table. “Any chance I can get a piece of apple pie?” He looked toward the counter where the dessert was cooling on a rack. The smells of cinnamon and apple still peppered the air, stirring his hunger. “I didn’t eat lunch.”

  “Then I’ll fix you a sandwich. Sugar, you know apple pie shouldn’t be your lunch.”

  “Grace, Grace, you need to give up trying to reform me. I have a sweet tooth and that isn’t gonna change.”

  “Yes, and all the women of the congregation know it and make a point of supplying you with plenty of sweets, including me. Who do you think I was baking these for? Certainly not myself.” She tsked, her mouth twisting into a wry grin. “I don’t know how you stay so trim.”

  “I do follow your advice about working out. So I’m not a total lost cause.”

  She peered heavenward. “Thankfully I’ve done something right.” She went to the refrigerator and retrieved the makings of a turkey sandwich.

  “You’ve done a lot right. I thank the Lord every day that you are in my life. And my girls feel the same way.”

  “Speaking of Amber and Tiffany, they should be here soon.” Grace glanced at the rooster clock over the stove. “School was out a half hour ago.”

  Not three minutes later, as his aunt cut his sandwich in two, the doorbell rang. He shot to his feet and said, “I’ll get it.”

  He hurried into the foyer and thrust the door open before Tiffany had a chance to ring the bell again. She charged into the house with Amber following at a more sedate pace. They dropped their backpacks on the floor and headed straight for the kitchen.

  Colin trailed after his daughters, glancing toward the bedroom where Emma slept before entering the kitchen. “And a good day to you both.”