Darkness Follows Read online

  Something foreboding, dark, almost …

  She hated to even think it, but the word kept surfacing, a buoy refusing to stay down.

  Evil.

  Just as Eva had done when sleep overcame her so suddenly, Molly shuddered. Her sweatshirt could not keep that chill from reaching her skin. Where was Sam? She’d tried calling his cell phone earlier, but he’d left it on the kitchen counter. She’d called his mother and a few friends, but no one had seen or heard from him. He’d simply disappeared. She knew they’d been arguing more than usual and that she’d been hard on him the last couple of days, but it wasn’t like Sam to just quit on their relationship, on his family. On Eva.

  From the large spruce at the corner of their property, an owl began its nightly questioning. It was a great horned. Molly and Eva had watched it before, through the binoculars. Big thing too. Two feet tall, at least, with deeply mottled feathering and large, round eyes. Eva thought the eyes were creepy; Molly couldn’t disagree.

  Again the thought of the evil entered her mind, like a virus finding its way into her system, and she tried to push it out. There was something in Sam’s past that still haunted him, she was certain of that, something he had never wanted to talk about…and never completely overcome. She knew it had to do with his brother, Tommy, and a rifle. She’d been told Tommy was killed in a hunting accident, although lately she wasn’t so sure.

  And then there was the broken window incident. Sam wasn’t telling the whole truth about that; he was hiding something, keeping secrets. Since that event, his whole personality had changed. He seemed so preoccupied, absorbed in … something. She didn’t know what.

  But it went back to Tommy. It all went back to Tommy.

  Molly picked up the cordless and dialed Sam’s mother for the second time that evening.

  “Hi, Gloria.” Molly never called her Mom. “It’s Molly again.”

  “He finally came home, didn’t he?”

  “No. Not yet. But I have something else I need to ask you about.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be home soon.”

  “Sooner or later. Um, what happened between Sam and Tommy?”

  For a few seconds Molly thought Gloria would not answer.

  Then: “Why do you ask?”

  “It’s not something Sam has ever talked about. I don’t even think I can name three times he’s mentioned Tommy’s name. And lately I think something about it’s been bothering him. Something that happened between him and Tommy. It might have something to do with why he’s gone missing. What happened there?”

  Gloria forced a laugh. “Oh, they were like any brothers, at each other. You know.”

  “I don’t think I do. I didn’t have any brothers. How were they ‘at each other’?”

  “Oh, just brother stuff. They didn’t always see eye to eye. Tommy was … active, and Sammy didn’t always go well with that. He was a more serious child, you know.”

  Molly swallowed before asking the next question. “Can I ask about Tommy’s death? How it happened?”

  “I really don’t like talking about it, Molly. It’s in the past, and that’s where it needs to stay. I’m sure Sammy’s gotten over it by now.”

  “That’s the thing,” Molly said. “I’m not sure he has. I think he still struggles with it, has issues that—”

  “If he has issues, he sure hasn’t ever said anything to me about them.”

  “Well, maybe he doesn’t—”

  “Molly, dear, I don’t think this is something anyone wants to remember. It was so long ago. It’s better left alone.”

  “I just—”

  Inside the house a floorboard creaked. Molly spun in her chair and found Eva, in her pajamas, watching her through the kitchen’s screen door.

  “I have to go, Gloria. I’ll let you know when Sam gets home.” She clicked off the phone and stood. “Eva, baby, what are you doing out of bed?”

  Eva stood motionless, arms at her side, stare fixed on her mother.

  A tingle tickled the back of Molly’s neck. She opened the door and looked into her daughter’s glazed pupils. “Eva, are you awake?”

  Eva nodded, then rubbed at her eyes.

  Molly splayed the fingers on her hand. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

  Her daughter’s face was emotionless, as flat as undisturbed water. “The time is up,” she said. Plainly she was sleepwalking. Her dull gaze moved past Molly’s shoulder toward nothing in particular. “Daddy’s time is up. He used it and went the wrong way … Jacob said … Jacob prayed for the time, when the time was up—”

  “OK, baby, let’s go back to bed.” Molly took Eva in her arms and let the door slam behind them. Her daughter felt heavier than she remembered. She was growing up too fast.

  Eva continued to mumble. “The man needs to be careful and watch for, and watch out for, he needs to watch … Jacob said, he prayed … Daddy, I need to tell him.” The more she talked, the more agitated she became. Her voice was rising, her body stiffening. “Daddy needs to, he needs to know … Jacob can’t tell him, I have to—”

  Molly hurried up the steps to Eva’s room.

  “I need to tell him … love him … Jesus—”

  She put Eva on the bed, and Eva tried to push her away.

  “He needs to know … the man watching, talking … Daddy needs to know … Jesus—”

  “Eva, please, baby.” Molly tried to calm her, tried to hold her arms, but the more she did so, the more combative Eva got and the more she rambled.

  “Jacob … Daddy … Jesus … Daddy needs to know, he needs to know … love him—” Then, as if someone had hit a switch, she stopped struggling and looked up with clear eyes. “Mommy?”

  Molly smoothed her hair. “Yes, darling, you were talking in your sleep again.”

  “Is Daddy home yet?”

  Molly shook her head. “He will be soon, though. You go back to sleep, OK?”

  A tear spilled from the corner of Eva’s eye, tracked down her temple, and disappeared in her hair. “Jacob said Daddy’s going to do something bad. I need to tell him I love him.”

  “Baby, Daddy’s not going to do anything bad, and I promise he knows you love him.”

  Eva’s eyes closed slowly and opened again. Sleep was overcoming her. “He needs to know.”

  “He does know, baby.”

  “Pray with me, Mommy. Pray for Daddy, please.”

  Molly prayed. As she did so, Eva fell back to sleep, but Molly feared it would be anything but peaceful. She hurried back downstairs, grabbed the phone, and pushed the buttons. She needed someone to talk to. She’d go plain nuts if she didn’t.

  As soon as Beth Fisher answered, the tears started to flow from Molly’s eyes. At first she could say nothing; the words stuck in her throat as if glued there.

  “Hello?” Beth said again.

  Molly choked out a word. “Beth …”

  “Molly, is that you? What’s wrong?”

  She drew in a deep breath and composed herself. “Sorry…sorry to call so late.”

  “No, no, it’s no problem. I was up. What’s wrong?”

  “I just need to talk.” Her words were strained and broken, squeezed out through tight vocal cords.

  “Are you OK?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are Eva and Sam OK?”

  “I don’t know. Can we talk?”

  “Honey, I’m coming right over.”

  Molly and Beth sat out back, under the night sky, under the chasing bats, and Molly unloaded everything until the conversation came full circle back to her own past she’d been hiding from for thirteen years.

  “Lately Sam’s been acting so much like my father that I–I find myself resenting him for no reason.”

  Beth was quiet a moment. “Your father was abusive?”

  Molly nodded. She’d known it for a long time, forever it seemed, but never voiced it to anyone besides Sam. “Not physically or sexually, he never did that, but there was verbal and emotional abuse. Plenty of emotio
nal. And he had quite the temper.”

  Again, Beth was quiet. She tucked her leg up under herself and faced Molly. Her face was etched with concern and empathy.

  Molly continued. “He’d get angry with us over the dumbest things, then not talk to us for days. One time my sister forgot to clean the hair out of the shower drain, and he threatened to throw her out of the house. She was thirteen. Once I came home late after school. I’d told him I would be late, helping set up for an art show, but he must have forgotten. When I got home he went wild, threw my clothes into the front yard, and made me sleep out on the porch that night.”

  “And Sam’s been acting like that?”

  Molly smiled. “No, not that bad. But the sarcasm, the irritability, the sharp comments—it’s all the same. Just like my father. When we argue, it’s like I’m arguing with my father and I have to win, like this is my chance to finally stick it to him and get the upper hand for once.”

  Beth reached over and put her hand on Molly’s. “You still carry the weight of it, don’t you? You’ve never let it go.”

  It was Molly’s turn to be quiet. She had left this load strapped to her back for far too long, at times so heavy she thought she’d crumble under the weight of it.

  “Molly, Sam’s been under a lot of pressure lately. He’s been through a lot. You all have. Give him some time. Whatever it is that’s gnawing at him, he’ll work it out. And when he needs your help or needs you to talk to about it, he’ll make that move. Until then, give him some space.”

  “If he comes home.”

  Beth gave Molly’s hand a squeeze. “Do you love him?”

  The question seemed an odd one—of course she loved him—until Molly let it settle in, and then she was asking herself the same question. Did she love Sam? Really love him? Unconditionally? Unembarrassed by how long it took her to answer, Molly searched her heart and found a love that went back fourteen, fifteen years, a love so strong and resilient that the fires of hell could not crush it.

  “Yes,” she said. “With all my heart.”

  Beth nodded and smiled. “Then keep loving him. Tell him and show him. Pray for him. He’s in a dark place and needs you now more than ever. Wherever he is, your love can find him there.”

  Fifty-Three

  November 19, 7:20 a.m.

  SENATOR STEPHEN LINCOLN SAT IN THE BACK OF THE Suburban and glanced at his watch. He’d been up since five going over his speech, jotting notes, doing last-minute revisions, and praying. Lots of praying. He knew full well this speech could be the biggest of his political career, and Stephen Lincoln was a firm believer in the hand of God guiding the affairs of men. He hadn’t always been, but he was now.

  He retrieved a photo of his family from his jacket pocket, the one taken a year ago as they vacationed in Maine. They’d stayed in a cottage on the coast, just north of Freeport, one of his favorite vacations ever. They even met the Bushes in Kennebunkport. Went fishing with 41.

  He replaced the photo and phoned Emily, told her he was on his way. She’d be traveling separately to meet him there from their home in Lancaster County.

  “Love you, honey,” she said. “And Steve?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Be careful, OK?”

  There was something about the hesitation in her voice and the way it cracked on the word careful.

  “What’s wrong?” Lincoln asked.

  There was silence on the other end for a couple of seconds. “I don’t know. Just a feeling I have. Just … be careful, OK?”

  Emily wasn’t dumb. She was well aware that there were death threats, not to mention nut-jobs out there crazy enough to make good on their threats.

  “I’ll be fine, sweetheart. Really. People give speeches all the time.”

  “But ‘people’ aren’t you.”

  “I’ll see you there, all right?”

  “Yes. Do your best.”

  They said their good-byes, and he put the phone back in its jack.

  It was raining outside, just a light patter on the limo’s windows, enough to smudge the view of the world beyond the bulletproof glass and reinforced doors.

  Taylor Blake leaned to her side and caught Lincoln’s eye. “Sir, are you sure you want to do this now? I mean …”

  “You mean we can always reschedule?”

  “Yes. It’s done all the time.”

  “Reschedule for when? And what happens when threats start popping up then? Reschedule again? Taylor, I appreciate your concern, but I won’t back down because of a few crazies giving idle threats.”

  “It’s not just the threats. It’s the murders, the rain—”

  “The rain? You really think I’d let a little rain stop me?”

  She looked out the window. “No.”

  “And as for the murders, the locals have been planning this event for some time now. From what I’m told, they’re ready.”

  “They are.” She smiled. “But I still hope the rain stops.”

  Fifty-Four

  7:25 a.m.

  SAM STILL WASN’T HOME, AND MOLLY WAS MORE THAN A LITTLE worried. She’d called his mother again, a little after 5:00 a.m., waking her from a deep sleep. Gloria answered, mumbling something about needing to get out of the room while there was still time. She’d neither seen nor heard from Sam, though. Molly decided she would give him until lunchtime to show up. If he didn’t surface by then, she’d call the police.

  In Eva’s room Molly sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her daughter’s forehead. She had let her sleep as long as she could. “Hey, sweet girl, time to wake up. Gotta get ready for school.”

  Eva’s eyes fluttered open. She stretched her arms overhead and wiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands.

  Molly rubbed Eva’s belly, then stood. “I have breakfast all ready for you, and your clothes are here on the bed. Get dressed and come downstairs, OK?”

  “Did Daddy come home?”

  Sitting back down, Molly combed her fingers through Eva’s hair. “Honey, I’m afraid he didn’t.” She saw the look of fright pass through Eva’s eyes. “I’m sure he’s OK, though. Don’t you worry about him one bit. He’ll come home today. I’m sure of it.”

  “Then where is he? Where did he go?”

  “I don’t know, baby.”

  “Did you call Grandma? Maybe he spent the night there.”

  “Yes, I called her, and she hasn’t heard from him either.”

  Moisture pooled in Eva’s eyes. “He’s not coming home, is he?”

  Molly cupped her daughter’s face in her hand. “Shh. Now don’t talk like that. Of course he’s coming home. In fact, I’m thinking he’ll be back by the time you get home from school.”

  “I don’t want to go to school.”

  “You have to go to school, darling. And you need to get up because Miss Beth’s going to be here soon to pick you up. I let you sleep in a little later today.”

  Eva sat up and pushed back her covers. “But how will I tell him?”

  “Tell him what?”

  “How will I tell Daddy I love him and that Jesus loves him? Jacob said I have to tell him, that’s the only thing that can help Daddy.”

  Molly touched the tip of Eva’s nose. “Listen to me, baby girl. I know you’re upset about this whole thing, but I want you to try to be brave and … let’s not have any more talk about Jacob, all right?”

  “But he—”

  “Eva, I’m serious. No more, all right?”

  Eva’s eyes dropped. “OK.”

  Molly knew her daughter was struggling with the changes she’d seen in her father, but she didn’t want to upset her by talking about it more than was necessary. Hopefully Sam would be home by noon, back to his old self. Cabin fever could do strange things to people. For the last four months he’d been stuck in the house, dependent on Molly for almost everything, and that was tough for a man used to doing things on his own. Maybe he just needed some time alone, time to spread his wings again and sort things out in his mind. She prayed that�
�s all it was. Dear God, let that be all.

  Beth arrived right on time, waving from her Volvo.

  “She’s here.” Molly helped Eva with her jacket and book bag, then handed her the American Girl lunchbox they’d given her for Christmas. “Here you go, sweetie. I packed you turkey and cheese. Make sure you eat it all.”

  Eva gave her a kiss on the cheek and turned toward the door.

  “Hey,” Molly said, touching her arm. “You OK?”

  Tears formed in Eva’s eyes again. “Daddy’s gonna do something bad. Ja—I know it. I need to tell him how much I love him. Please, Mommy, I need to tell him.”

  Molly took Eva in her arms. “Oh, baby girl. I wish you could. I do. But I promise you, Daddy knows how much you love him. And he loves you back the same. You know that, don’t you?”

  Eva nodded. “But I need to tell him.”

  Wiping a tear from Eva’s cheek, Molly said. “You can tell him when you get home, OK? I’ll tell him he better be ready for the biggest hug he’s ever got. Sound good?”

  Eva nodded again.

  “Now, here.” She handed over a tissue. “Blow your nose and settle yourself. And don’t worry about Daddy. You just have a good day at school.”

  Eva fell into Molly’s arms. “I love you, Mommy.”

  “I love you too, baby. More than anything. Do good at school, you hear?”

  “OK. I will.”

  And then her little girl was gone, out the door and down the sidewalk. Molly waved at Beth as Eva climbed into the car. When the car had faded from view, Molly let the tears come.

  Fifty-Five

  8:05 a.m.

  SYMON HAD DISPOSED OF THE WIDOWS, AND THEIR GRAND house awaited his return with the target. Now, to complete his mission. He sat in his Intrepid along Pumping Station Road, watching the raindrops dot the windshield. He was pleased this rural lane saw little traffic. The sky was overcast, and the morning light was slow to arrive, but this would make the forest-green Volvo’s headlights easier to spot. If his timing was right, he should pull out in exactly five minutes. He’d angle his car cockeyed, blocking the path of the Volvo wagon, and then do his thing.