Charles Grant - Night Songs

"Wow, Mom!" Matt said. "Wow, you did it!"

Colin could say nothing. He only swallowed and told her everything with his eyes.

But the running was the worst part.

Worse than understanding that Colin had almost died, worse than accepting her own dare and looking over the edge-to see Tess sprawled on the ledge more than fifty feet below, to see the waves claw at her dress, toy with her legs, wash away the red that ran in streams from beneath her head.

"She was hurt," Colin said behind her, each word a gasping. "She must have had an accident out here in the trees."

She nodded and kept running.

"God!" he said. "I thought for a minute she wanted to push me over."

She did, Peg thought, and slowed nearly to a halt when she realized what had happened. Matt called her name and Colin urged her on, but none of it changed anything-Tess had been trying to kill him. Tess had wanted Colin dead, and only the man's slipping had saved his life when she attacked.

They broke out of the woods and scrambled into the car. It stalled once, stalled again, and she pushed at the dashboard until the engine caught. When Colin sped north on Neptune, she turned and looked at Matthew. He was in the corner behind her, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, looking pale, lips white. Without a word she struggled over the back and sat beside him, embraced him and looked at Colin's head.

"Why?" she said.

"She was hurt," Colin answered, leaning forward to see through the fog on the road. "No. Yes."

"What?"

"She was hurt, I could see that, but she wasn't looking for help." There was a silence. "Peg, listen-"

She looked down at Matt and stroked his damp hair. "You know what I'm saying."

"I sure as hell do, and it's ridiculous."

The fog was so thick Colin had to slow down, so much so she knew she could run to town faster. When they reached the boarding house, she stopped shaking long enough to squeeze Matt more tightly, pull the blanket across his chest, and shift so her right arm was still around his shoulders while she put her face as close to Colin's as she could.

"You saw her?"

He nodded, muttering at the fog. Five miles an hour was no way to get the police.

"I don't see how she was alive."

His head snapped up, and he glared at her in the rearview mirror. "Peg," he said, whispering, questioning, and cautioning in a name.

"I mean it," she said, lowering her voice. "You saw her, Colin. I don't see why she wasn't lying down. I saw bone sticking out, for God's sake! She looked like somebody went after her with an ax."

"Warren," was all he said.

She sat back and stared at the low ceiling, blinking rapidly, feeling her son beside her and wishing the man in front wasn't so goddamned stuck on reason.

A signpost reared out of the fog and Colin yanked on the wheel, apparently not realizing he was nearly off the road. Then he said, "Lilla."

"What?" she said sharply.

"Lilla. If that guy's still at work, Lilla's in danger."

He stopped, and she sat up. "What the hell are you doing, Colin?"

"We ought to at least bring her back with us to the station where she'll be safe."

"The hell with her," she said. "What about Matt? Are you going to leave us in the car with a maniac running loose while you go chasing after another nut? Over my dead body."

His shoulders squared, and she knew she ought to feel some manner of guilt about the way she'd spoken about a friend. But as far as she was concerned, Lilla was beyond their help now. The young woman needed a professional, a doctor, and what they needed was some safe place where Tess Mayfair couldn't get them.

She waited, blinking in disbelief when Colin swerved the car onto Surf Court. A hand lifted to punch the back of his neck, a curse throttled in her throat when Matt squirmed to get closer to her. Then the car stopped, and Colin opened the door. The engine was still running. When she leaned over the seat, he bent down and smiled with a shrug.

"I can't do it, Peg. You take the car and get hold of Garve."

"And what about you?" she demanded.

"I'll get Lilla and bring her here." He waved behind him at the houses on the street. "There're some lights on. I'll take her to Bob's or Efron's. I'll call as soon as I get there."

"Colin, this is stupid."

"No," he said. "Maybe. Now hurry. I don't want this dumb fog to get any thicker."

There were a dozen reasons why he shouldn't go, and a dozen more why he should. While she was debating, he reached in and grabbed her hand, squeezed it, and closed the door. He walked quickly toward the beach, hopping onto the curbstone and following it until he reached the sand. The fog was much thinner there, and he didn't disappear until he was halfway up the first dune.

"Mom?"

She glared at the spot where Colin had been, then struggled into the driver's seat, looked around and jerked her head until Matt understood and followed. He kept the blanket. He watched as she snapped on the headlights and made an awkward U-turn.

"Mr. Ross?"

"He went to get Lilla," she said, her hands holding the wheel white-knuckled. "Will he be hurt?"

"No," she said; told him, "No," again, softly, when she saw the fear widen his eyes. "No, he'll be all right."

The fog scattered when they reached Neptune, and she craned to take a hard look at the sky. It was darker now, the Screamer closer. She suddenly wished strongly they'd had another name for the windstorm. She blinked-twilight on Haven's End before it was even two. She drove recklessly, not slowing when gray patches flared the car's lights back into her eyes.

Then she looked at her hands; they were trembling. She squeezed the wheel more tightly. When that didn't work she pushed a palm over her cheeks, shoved clawed fingers back through her hair. The car slowed when they reached Naughton's Market, slowed even more until they reached the intersection, and the amber light winked on the hood, turned the windshield gold, followed with sweeping shadows as she swung a tight circle and parked in front of the station. The lights were on, and she could see Garve at his desk.

"Mom?"

She couldn't move.

The next thing she had to do was turn off the engine, but she couldn't loosen her grip on the wheel. "Mom!"

She swallowed, closed her eyes, and couldn't help a short scream when someone rapped the window next to her head.

Matt grabbed her arm and shook her, calling, until she made herself as stiff as she could, suddenly released the hold on her muscles and sagged back in the seat. She smiled weakly at Garve and didn't protest when he helped her out of the car and into the office, one hand at the small of her back and the other on her elbow while he listened gravely to Matt explain what had happened.

When she was seated, a cup of steaming coffee in her hands, she smiled again. "It's true," she told Tabor when he sought her confirmation. "It's true. She was… I honestly couldn't stop her, Garve. Before I could move she was… gone." Peg sipped, wincing at the hot liquid, shuddering at the chill that refused to leave her system. "She was hurt terribly even before she fell."

"Yeah!" Matt said excitedly, standing in front of the gunrack back by the cellblock door. His fear seemed gone, concern for his mother settled now that Garve was in charge. "Boy, it was just like you see in the movies! Her-"

"Matthew!" she shouted, coffee slopping into her lap.

He cringed and turned slowly, the protection he'd constructed gone with the name that struck his back like whip.

"It's all right," Tabor said. "Take it easy, the two of you, all right?" He dropped into his chair and clasped his hands at his stomach. "First thing is to call Hugh and let him know what happened. Then I'll take a ride out there and-" He stopped when she stared at him. "No, you won't have to go back."

Mutely, she accepted the paper napkins he handed her and daubed at the spill darkening her jeans. She felt terrible. Very few things bothered her more than losing control, and all control had left from the moment she'd seen Tess plunge off the cliff. A part of her reasoned the reaction was natural, part because she was thinking first of her son.

But she had lost control, and what kind of way was that to keep Matthew from harm?

Gingerly, she took another sip of coffee and smiled apologetically at her boy who was still by the gunrack watching her fearfully. By the time Tabor finished his call to Hugh, she felt somewhat better, and turned her smile to the chief when he queried her a with look. "Okay, then," he said. But he didn't move. Instead, he dialed another number, waited, scowled, and slammed the receiver down. "Goddamn Nichols," he muttered.

"El's not here?" She looked around, realizing for the first time the deputy was missing. "But the car-"

"Yeah, I know. But it was here when I got back.

Washed like he was expecting to be in a parade. The car, but no Eliot. I've been calling his place for the past hour, but I can't get an answer and nobody I can raise has seen him. Jesus, he must be under a tree with Wally."

"Nobody…" She set the cup on the desk. "Garve, what's going on?"

He looked back at the boy, who was studying the shotguns and the rifle in the cabinet. Then he pulled his chair as close to the desk as he could, leaned forward on his forearms and rubbed his chin with a thumb. "Peg, I got to be honest, I haven't the faintest idea. Half the town leaves yesterday like the whole place was on fire, that's on account of the Screamer. But today… well, you're the first person I've seen since I got up. Except for Lee."

She passed on a comment that rose automatically; this wasn't the time to kid him about his lovelife.

"Maybe… maybe they're afraid the storm will hit sooner than after midnight. They might be too busy to answer."

"Oh, it will." He snapped a finger at a pink sheet of paper. "Got the word about five minutes ago. Damn fools at the National Weather place, they didn't want to make a mistake. It moved right out into the ocean, stopped, thought about it, and it's coming right back."

"Oh, God, the windows."

"Yeah, exactly. Between trying to get hold of Eliot, I've been calling everyone I can think of." He shook his head, and shrugged. "Hardly anyone left. This place is going to be a disaster if they don't come back soon."

She sighed, bit softly on her lower lip. "What was that about Wally?"

He looked disgusted. "Bob comes in a while back, bitching about Sterling leaving the ferry unattended. No sign of him, the ferry's at the island. Cameron had to bring over his supplies on his own." His expression was sour. "He was lucky he didn't end up in Chesapeake Bay the way he pilots that thing."

"Lilla," Matt said, so loudly they started, not realizing he had walked up behind the chief. "What's this?" Tabor asked, half turning in his seat. "Matt, I told you not-"

"Lilla, sir," Matt said when he didn't look away. "I told Mom and Mr. Ross about the fog, but they didn't believe me."

Peg kept her silence when Tabor lifted a hand to prevent an interruption, but she could not help an annoyed frown when Matt explained to the chief about the fog and Lilla's singing. She expected him to laugh, or to touch the boy's shoulder and nod to humor him. What she didn't expect was the thoughtful expression that blanked Tabor's eyes for the briefest of moments.