Rachel sprang forward, threw both arms around Summer from behind and yanked her backward, forcing the gun toward the ceiling. Summer lost her balance a split-second before her finger pressed the trigger. The blast of the shot rang in Rachel’s ears. A light fixture shattered and shards of glass rained down on them.
“Let me go!” Summer bucked and twisted in Rachel’s grasp. Rachel held on, and they tumbled to the floor together. The rifle flew out of Summer’s hands, hit the floor and slid down the hall. Jake scooped it up.
“Get that damned thing out of here,” Rachel yelled at him. She was on top of Summer, fighting to hold the struggling woman down. “Do it! Throw it outside!”
***
Tom heard the shot as he scrambled out of his car in Jake Hollinger’s driveway. The gunfire came from inside the house. He sprinted for the front door, halted when he thought he heard a voice, someone shouting. Rachel? Where? He swung around and ran for the back of the house.
Jake stumbled out the back door, his face bloodied, a rifle in one hand.
Tom drew his pistol and aimed it. “Put it down. Put down the gun.”
“It’s okay.” Jake’s voice wavered, fading to a whisper. “It’s all right.”
He leaned down, laid the rifle on the porch, and kept on going, falling unconscious beside the weapon.
Chapter Forty-four
Two days later, Tom and Rachel stood in Grady and Darla Duncan’s front yard at dusk, Simon between them, to welcome the boy’s grandparents home.
Darla threw her door open before Grady brought the car to a complete stop.
“Grandma!” Simon cried, barreling toward her.
She held her arms wide and Simon flung himself into her embrace.
Rachel blinked back tears, looked at Tom, and saw he was doing the same. Grady slammed his door and smiled across the roof of the car at the boy and his grandmother. “I guess you didn’t miss your old grandpa at all, huh?”
Simon broke away from Darla, charged around the car and hurled himself at Grady.
When Rachel hugged Darla, she felt an answering warmth rather than the awkwardness she expected.
“Listen,” Darla said as they stepped apart. “I want you to hear this too, Tom. I think I’ve got some good news.”
“Oh?” Tom said. “You mean—”
“I had some more tests.” Darla dashed tears from her eyes with an impatient swipe with the back of her hand. “Got that second opinion. That’s why we stayed over. I didn’t want to say anything on the phone the other night because I didn’t want to get anybody’s hopes up. I guess I didn’t want to get my hopes up. I figured the news could just as easily be bad as good. But it’s starting to look like I might beat this thing.”
“Oh, Darla.” Rachel hugged her again. “That’s fantastic. That’s incredible.”
“Hey, now.” Darla extricated herself. “You’re going to have to help me with our little shared responsibility there.” She nodded toward Simon. “I’ve still got some chemo ahead, and you know how that wears me out.”
“She thinks I can’t manage this little guy on my own,” Grady said. He kept his arm around Simon’s shoulders and the boy leaned into his grandfather as they joined the rest of the family.
“You spoil him rotten,” Darla said. “Anyway, when I need some peace and quiet, this won’t be any place for a whirling dervish like him. I want him to be where he can run around and make all the noise he wants to.”
“He can stay with us anytime, you know that,” Tom said.
“Of course he can,” Rachel said. “We love having him.”
“Well, all right then.” Darla looked around at all of them. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m hungry.”
“I thought you’d probably want an early dinner,” Rachel said. “It’ll be ready soon. I’m not as good a cook as you are, but it’s edible.”
“Anything I didn’t have to cook is fine with me.”
After the meal, after the apple pie dessert provided by Brandon Connolly’s parents, Simon took Billy Bob into the backyard and the adults moved to the living room with their coffee. Tom lit a fire in the grate, and as the aroma of hickory wood filled the room, the conversation turned at last to the recent events they didn’t want to discuss in front of Simon.
“I can’t believe Packard’s just pulling the plug and getting out,” Grady said.
“They’ve done it before,” Tom said. “They don’t like to admit it, but they’ve given up in a couple of places, where the opposition was so strong they decided it wasn’t worth the fight. And they didn’t want any association with a string of murders.”
“Besides, they could see they’d never get the land they wanted,” Rachel said. “Joanna won’t sell, and now Jake Hollinger’s inheriting Tavia Richardson’s land, and he’s decided not to sell either parcel. I don’t know what Sheila and Ronan Kelly will do, or Winter Jones. All I care about is that Packard decided to look elsewhere.”
“I heard they had a backup plan all along,” Tom said. “Somewhere nearby, I’m not sure where. Maybe some of the Mason County people who want those minimum wage jobs with no benefits will be able to commute.”
They were all silent a moment, then Grady heaved a sigh. “It’s hard to say what the right thing is when people are hurting and can’t find work. But taking Joanna’s land away from her, that wouldn’t be right, not by my measure.”
Rachel couldn’t extinguish the twinge of guilt she felt when she considered all the potential jobs that local people had lost. But neither could she believe that a predatory company like Packard taking over the county’s work force and government would help anyone in the long run.
“Well, that Packard man certainly stirred up a hornet’s nest in the time he was here,” Darla said. “What I can’t get over is Summer Jones. My lord. I always thought she was the sane one in that family. You should’ve seen us in our motel room, listening to the news on the Charlottesville station. Our mouths dropped all the way to the floor when we heard your name, Rachel.”
Oh, good grief. Rachel hadn’t realized she’d been in the news. “It’s a sad situation. I feel terrible about all of it.”
Grady reached over to pat Rachel’s hand. “We’re just grateful you’re all right. You’re the one that matters to us.”
“Didn’t her sisters know what she was up to?” Darla asked. “She was running around shooting people, and they didn’t do a thing to stop her?”
“I honestly don’t believe they knew until the last day,” Tom told her. “I’ve talked to Winter at the hospital, and she’s still having a hard time believing what happened. She keeps making excuses for Summer. If she ever suspected anything, she must have blocked it out, refused to let herself face it.”
“I think she’s done that with a lot of things in her family’s history,” Rachel said. She knew from her own experience that the need to believe a lie, to preserve the calm surface of a false world, was sometimes strong enough to overwhelm reason and reality. She also knew that self-deception couldn’t last forever. Eventually the truth would shatter the most lovingly constructed fantasy. “I feel sorry for her. I feel sorry for everybody involved.”
***
Rachel thought she was prepared to leave Simon behind with his grandparents, and she was annoyed with herself when his good-bye hug at the door brought hot tears to her eyes. She blinked the tears away before she straightened and allowed the boy to see her face. “We’ll pick you up Saturday morning to go riding, okay?”
“Yeah.” Simon smiled up at Rachel, but he was reaching out for his grandmother, slipping a hand into hers. “It’s been like forever. The horses probably forgot who I am already.”
Tom ruffled Simon’s thick black hair. “Nobody could forget you, pal. You go easy on your grandmother and let her get some rest. We’ll see you in a couple of days. And don’t forget about Th
anksgiving next week.”
As they left the house and walked down the driveway with Billy Bob trotting ahead, Tom slipped an arm around Rachel’s waist and pulled her close. She leaned into him, glad of his warmth against the cold night air.
“He still needs us, you know,” Tom said. “He always will.”
“I know.”
“Maybe it’s time we started thinking seriously about…” His voice trailed off as he aimed the electronic key and the SUV’s locks popped open. He hefted the short-legged Billy Bob into the back, then held the passenger door open for Rachel.
When they were both seated with their seat belts in place and the engine running, Tom finally spoke again, without facing her. “I don’t want to pressure you, but maybe it’s time.”
Rachel didn’t answer. She sat and waited for him to look at her. When he did, she knew that in the glow from the dashboard he could see her smiling.
“What?” His own smile spread but still seemed tentative. “You’re okay with it? You’re saying you’re ready?”
Rachel laughed. “I’m saying that you are way behind the curve. I’ve known since yesterday, and I’ve just been waiting for the right time to tell you.” She leaned over and kissed him. “Congratulations, Dad.”
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