“Max has already offered to take us to his parents’ place,” Shelby admitted. “But we’re staying. Thank you just the same, Danny.”
As she spoke, Shelby saw Max and Dr. Bhatti stepping out on his back porch. Max waved and Dr. Bhatti nodded. They both looked around a few moments before going back inside.
“What do you know about him?” Bianca asked, nodding after the doctor. “How can we trust him to provide medical care when we can’t confirm where he’s from? Who knows what kind of work he actually did, or even whether he was a good doctor or a bad one?”
“I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for that.” Danny stared at Max’s empty porch for a moment, and then he turned his attention back to Shelby. “Did I hear you’re working at Green Acres?”
“A few hours a day. Dr. Bhatti showed up to help there. He seems like a nice enough guy, if a bit reserved.”
“I don’t like it,” Bianca said. “I’m glad that Papá is home, where he’s surrounded by people he knows—not doctors who had to be bribed to pitch in a helping hand.”
Danny didn’t appear to know how to respond to that, so instead he said, “Guess I should be going. If either of you change your mind, you can find me at city hall whenever I’m not sleeping.”
Shelby walked him through the house and thanked him for stopping by. When she’d returned to the back porch, Bianca was preparing to leave.
“That was a little strange,” Shelby said.
“I told you he was interested in you, and you know it’s true. It’s just that you don’t want to believe it. You’re afraid of relationships, my friend. But now might be a good time for you to change that attitude.”
“How did I ever get by without your advice?”
“Badly.”
Shelby hooked an arm through Bianca’s as they walked to the front porch. The woman was like a sister to her. And whether or not Shelby liked it, Bianca would always describe things exactly as she saw them.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea for you to walk home alone?”
“There are patrols everywhere. I couldn’t be safer.”
“Thank you for coming by. I’ll try and stop over to see your parents tomorrow.”
Bianca hugged her. “You think about what Danny offered, and Max too.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.”
“But you’re staying.”
“Only because of my parents. Plus, I have Patrick around if I need help.”
They both glanced over at Max’s. A lantern still burned in the front room, its light spilling out into the creeping darkness.
Shelby admitted to herself that she felt safe knowing that Max was next door. “I guess we’re both pretty lucky—”
“Blessed.”
“Blessed,” Shelby agreed. “At least we have friends who are looking out for us.”
“And now, more than ever, friends and faith will see us through.”
It was much later, in the middle of the night, when Shelby woke from where she’d fallen asleep on the couch. She stumbled into the kitchen for a glass of water, which she poured from a gallon jug Max had given them. She stretched a kink that had formed in her back. Why hadn’t she just gone to bed? Now she would pay for it with a crick in her neck.
She eyed the Advil but decided to save it for a real emergency. As she placed the glass back on the counter, she happened to look outside. The moon was high in the night sky, casting long shadows. Perhaps that was why she could see Dr. Bhatti, kneeling at the back of Max’s property, burying something beneath the boughs of a cedar tree.
FORTY-TWO
Max startled awake to the sound of someone in his home. He had a disjointed recollection of Dr. Bhatti, their agreement, and the solar flare. His mind worked back through the events that had occurred since Friday evening. Was today only Monday? How could his entire life have changed so drastically in such a short period of time?
He’d wanted to talk to Shelby the night before, after he’d seen Danny on the back porch. What was he doing over there? Had there been news? Surely if there had been, he would have heard. He’d given Bhatti a quick tour of the place, intent on hurrying back outside. But Bhatti had wanted to talk. He’d finished the last of his cigarettes and was antsy, pacing the space between the living room and the kitchen. After an hour, Max had stretched and claimed he was bushed—which was the truth.
When Bhatti finally went to his room, Max had hurried back outside. No sign of Danny, Bianca, or even Shelby—and her home was completely dark.
Now the sunlight was peeking in through the window, which meant it was at least six thirty in the morning. Max dressed quickly and walked into the kitchen, but there was no sign of Bhatti. Had he left already? Was he suddenly dedicated? Max glanced out the front window and noticed Bhatti sitting on the porch, staring out at the street.
“Still wishing for another smoke?” Max asked, walking out and stretching. His watch said the time was six forty, his normal time to get up. Funny how the body kept to certain rhythms even when circumstances had radically changed.
The day promised to be warm. Which made him wonder—what would be worse? The heat of summer or winter’s cold? How could they prepare for either now? Or should they stay focused on medical supplies and food and safety?
“Unfortunately, yes.” Bhatti sat forward, his arms propped on his knees. He stared at the ground and then glanced sideways at Max. “Though I enjoyed my brief flirtation with a long-abandoned bad habit, I suppose one pack was enough. I wouldn’t want to die of cancer.”
“You’re an optimist this morning.”
“Hardly. You do realize that most of the residents at Green Acres won’t make it through the summer?”
“And on that sobering thought, I need coffee.”
By the time he had coffee brewing in the French press on the picnic table, Shelby had joined them. She’d already met Bhatti at the nursing home, but he acted as if he barely remembered her. If Max had to put a word on it, he would say the man worked at keeping himself distant from everyone.
It occurred to him that he had a right to know what Bhatti had been escaping from in Austin. After all, the man was living in his house. But the best time to ask would be when they were alone.
Shelby had no such reservations. She’d consumed half a cup of coffee and was clutching the mug as if someone might wrestle it from her hands. Her eyes were alert, and she openly studied Bhatti.
“Max tells us that you used to live in Austin.”
“I did.”
“And yet you were here when the flare hit.”
“I was, and I still am.”
“Not too many people pick our town as a vacation destination,” she said. “What brought you to Abney?”
“Took a drive on the back roads, ended up here.”
“You have a car here?” Max asked.
“I do.”
“You didn’t tell me that.”
“You didn’t ask. Did you think I walked from Austin?”
“Must be a newer model if you’re not driving it.” Shelby sipped from her coffee. “I assume it wouldn’t start?”
“You’re correct. I can’t even get in it since the vehicle boasts a keyless entry and the circuits are fried.”
“But we can get into the gas tank.” Max pushed the box of Pop-Tarts toward Shelby. She rarely indulged in sugary treats, but occasionally if Carter wasn’t around, she could be tempted. She glanced at the box and shook her head.
Bhatti shrugged, as if his car was no longer of any consequence to him.
“Max also said you needed to get away.”
“Something I told him in confidence.”
“And yet it could be pertinent to us, since we are entrusting the care of our elderly to you.”
Bhatti reached for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket before realizing that they were gone. “I can assure you it has nothing to do with my practice, though my specialty is not geriatrics. I was an ear, nose, and throat doctor.”
/>
“Are you saying that you aren’t qualified to treat the residents of Green Acres?”
Bhatti had been answering in a stilted, standoffish manner, but now he sat forward, crossed his arms on the table, and looked directly into Shelby’s eyes. “I am a certified physician, but if you don’t want me in your nursing home, just say so.”
Shelby frowned, shook her head, and pushed her nearly empty cup toward Max. As he refilled it, she said, “Certainly you can understand our concern.”
“I can.”
Max reached for another Pop-Tart and poured the last dregs of coffee into his mug.
Shelby finally asked what must have been weighing heavily on her mind. “What do you think their odds are?”
“As I told Max earlier, I doubt many of the patients in your facility will survive the summer.”
“And how did you arrive at that assessment after only one shift?”
Max had been content to watch this confrontation play out. He’d learned in the courtroom that if you saw a storm brewing and stepped out of the way, sometimes good things resulted from the fallout. He’d had the same questions about Bhatti, but they were probably better coming from Shelby, who could be written off—at least by the doctor—as a nosy neighbor.
“You have five residents with pulmonary disorders, three who are recovering from recent surgeries, eight who have varying degrees of dementia, and six who have a history of cardiac trouble.”
“And?” Shelby abandoned her mug and crossed her arms.
“My point, Ms. Sparks, is that there isn’t much we can do for these people. We can’t even keep them comfortable, and we certainly can’t treat them with the resources we have.”
“So you’re giving up.”
“Actually I’ll be reporting to work within the half hour, but I’m fairly certain there is little I can do.” And with that, the doctor turned and shuffled into the house.
Max watched Shelby and shrugged when she turned her gaze to him.
“Real winner you brought us there.”
“Easy does it, Shelby. He’s only telling us what we would rather not hear.”
“Doesn’t make it the truth.”
“And it doesn’t make it a lie.” Max waited, but Shelby didn’t explain her mood. Finally he asked, “What’s bothering you this morning?”
Shelby plopped back down onto the bench of the picnic table. “I saw him last night. I saw him burying something in your backyard.”
FORTY-THREE
Bhatti?”
“Last night—late.”
She scrubbed a hand across her face, which was devoid of makeup. When she was like this, when she wasn’t aware that he was watching her, Shelby reminded him of the young girl he’d grown up with. In those moments, it felt like she was the other half of himself, the half he had lost somewhere along the way.
Now she leaned forward, lowered her voice, and reached across to clutch his arm. “He was here in the backyard, near that cedar, burying something.”
“You saw this?”
“By the moonlight. I was in the kitchen and happened to look out—” She pointed toward the offending tree. “I just happened to see him.”
Max didn’t answer right away, hoping she would elaborate. But she didn’t.
“He’s hiding something. Burying something. And we need to know what.”
“So go dig it up,” said Max.
“He’s still here.”
“We could ask him.”
“Come on, Max. Someone who buries who-knows-what in the middle of the night is not going to tell the truth when you ask him a hard question.”
“So what do we do?”
“You figure it out. You brought him here.”
“To Abney? He was already—”
“To our neighborhood.”
“Are you suggesting that I’ve put us in danger?” Max pushed away his cup of coffee.
“I’m not suggesting anything. I’m telling you that it’s your mess and you need to clean it up. Find out what’s going on.”
“And what are you going to do?”
“Finish my breakfast. Get ready for work. Check on Carter.”
There were a dozen things Max could have said to her at that moment, things he wanted and needed to say. But the lawyer in him spoke up before he had a chance. “What was Danny doing at your house last night?”
Instead of answering, she picked up a package of Pop-Tarts, opened it, took a bite, and grimaced. “Tastes like sugar.”
“Uh-huh. Now what about Danny? By the time I’d settled Bhatti into his room, all the lights were out in your place.”
“So you’re watching my house?”
“I’m not spying on you, Shelby. I’m keeping an eye out for trouble—watching your back. That’s what we do for each other. Remember?”
With a quick “sorry” for being so prickly, she gave him the quick rendition of what they’d learned.
“Can’t say I’m surprised,” said Max.
“That the federal government and state governments are locking horns? Already? After only two and a half days?”
“The mayor hinted as much.”
“I can’t imagine how she’s dealing with the pressure.”
“A power struggle with Eugene Stone is not what we need right now.”
“I knew he was bitter about losing the election, but it’s hard to believe he’d put his political aspirations ahead of the good of Abney.”
“That’s the problem—he thinks they are one and the same.”
At the look of concern on her face, he reached across the table and covered her hands with his.
“This isn’t going to be easy, but we are a tough people—a country birthed in revolution. God has seen us through the struggles of the past. He’ll see us through this.”
She pulled her hands away. “Is that why you’re leaving?”
“I’m leaving because my folks aren’t as young as they once were—and while they’ll try their best to outlast this thing, I need to be there to help them.”
“You’re going to become a farmer?” She raised her eyes to his, tears welling and threatening to spill. She glanced away quickly and shrugged. Max sat back and aimed for a casual posture.
“Think I can’t do it?”
Shelby shook her head, turned over his hand, and rubbed the center of his palm. “Lawyer hands. No calluses.”
“I suppose it’s time that changed.” When her mood still didn’t lighten, he added, “There won’t be any legal work for me to do here.”
“You don’t know that.”
“And besides, I don’t like crowds. If the military moves in, I’d rather be somewhere else.”
“They’re not going to move in to Abney.”
“Probably not.”
“But it sounds as if they’ll take whatever we have that’s worth taking.”
“If that happens—and I’m not saying it will—there will be trouble.”
She stood, tossed what was left of her coffee into his rosebushes, and thanked him.
But he couldn’t let her leave, not on that note. He had to try one more time. “That’s the real reason Danny came, isn’t it? To tell you to leave?”
She was halfway across the yard when she turned around. “Talk to Bhatti, or get a shovel. But figure out what is going on with him and figure it out soon.”
FORTY-FOUR
Max cleaned up, putting on a pearl snap shirt, his best jeans, and his good boots. He’d walk to the office instead of taking the truck. Bhatti had already left, as had Shelby, though there was a good twenty minutes between when she hurried off and when Bhatti followed. Max imagined Dr. Bhatti would be avoiding Shelby Sparks today.
He enjoyed the walk to the office, realizing that it could be his last walk through Abney. If things went well, he could leave first thing the next day.
The neighborhood patrols he passed reported no trouble. Maybe things would settle down. Maybe the world would leave Abney alone to recuperate as bes
t as it could. That fantasy lasted until he approached his office on the square. One of the deputies was standing out front waiting for him.
“The mayor wants to see you.”
Twenty minutes later he was in an interview room at the jail, sitting across from one Charles Striker, accused of attempted armed robbery. The man was forty-six years old according to his file, and he had the look of a mechanic or factory worker—big muscles but no tan line. Not a farmer. Also not a burglar, if Max were to guess.
The interview room was hot, though it was still early in the morning. Lights powered by the emergency generator buzzed, giving Max the faint beginnings of a headache.
“Would you like to tell me what happened?”
“Can you get me out of here? Do you know how hot it is in those cells? No air-conditioning, no fans, and barely any food. This is a civil suit waiting to happen, man.”
“Supposing you’re correct, it might be awhile before you have a chance to file that suit.”
“Well, I can’t just sit in there and rot. You gotta do something.”
Max felt his eyebrows rise. At least, the skin above his eyes rose, considering some of his eyebrows had been singed off during the fire blast on the town square. “I don’t have to do anything since I’m not technically your lawyer, Mr. Striker. The mayor asked me to check in on you, and I agreed because she is a friend of mine.”
“All small towns are the same. Old boy’s club—”
“Actually, the mayor is a she. Why don’t you tell me what happened.”
“I live ten miles outside of town, on the east side.”
It was an unincorporated area, which meant there was an odd combination of old mobile homes, RVs, and the occasional prefab house. Not a good neighborhood, and technically not a part of town at all since Abney had decided not to annex it two years earlier. The place was something of a dump, and the mayor hadn’t felt optimistic about taking on the problems there—especially with Eugene Stone breathing down her back.
“And?”
“And there are some real lunatics living out there. Came home Friday night, nothing was working, folks sitting around speculating, but no one knew what happened. Then Larry—he’s the only one with a CB—he starts talking about riots in Austin, complete road closures in Houston.” The man’s hands began to shake, so he clasped them together. “And Dallas? Well, apparently it’s burning.”
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