In The Absence Of Light

by Adrienne Wilder

  The heat rising in my cheeks fell somewhere around my ankles. I sipped my coffee, it burned my tongue, but the nerve endings in my body appeared to have died. The sour trail it left to my stomach suggested my taste buds had done the same.

  Aunt Jenny was right. More than right. And if I truly thought about it, I had no idea how to deal with a normal illness, let alone something as complex as Morgan.

  “Lori made him better.” It was all I had to defend myself with.

  “Yeah.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. She was a very special person. Very unique. In some ways like Morgan because she understood him. I don’t know how, but she could reach him when no one else could. She worked with him every day, Grant. Every waking hour revolved around Morgan’s needs. Maybe it gave her an advantage when he regressed because the specialists begged her to put him in a home.”

  “But she didn’t.”

  “No. Lori gave the definition of stubborn a whole new twist. She was my sister and I loved her, but I won’t pretend to have ever truly understood her or be anything like her. I know I can’t handle Morgan, and I’m the only family he has.”

  “What about me?”

  “He loves you so much he would never forgive me if I asked you, let alone allowed you to.”

  I drained my coffee cup. Anger and frustration turned it into a crumpled wad in my fist. Even when there was nothing left to crush, I still squeezed. From across the table, the folder mocked me.

  “Are they going to be able to give him therapy?”

  “Some.”

  “Some?”

  “Walnut Cove is mostly state funded. After Morgan’s bank account runs out, he’ll become a ward of the state and they’ll cover his care.”

  “You think he’ll get what he needs in a state-funded facility?” He wouldn’t. Our government did a piss poor job of taking care of the veterans who sacrificed their body and mind for their country. I knew the kind of place Walnut Cove would be.

  “It’s a clean facility. I went there once with Lori. Toured the whole place. They specialize in young people like Morgan. They even take them out into the community at least once a week.”

  “But she didn’t leave him there.”

  Aunt Jenny laughed a little. “Nope. She didn’t leave him there. And when they called to make sure she hadn’t changed her mind, she told them all the places she’d cram the phone if they dare contact her again.”

  “If she didn’t want Morgan there, neither do I.”

  “Grant—”

  “What if he had home care?”

  “You’re talking about a lot of money. Even what’s in Morgan’s account from that mess with the Day’s wouldn’t cover the cost for a year.”

  “What if I paid for it?”

  “Grant… I don’t think you realize how much—”

  I took her hand and squeezed it. “It would be nothing to me.”

  She searched my face. “He wouldn’t want you to do that.”

  “Yeah, well, Morgan doesn’t always get what he wants. And honestly, this isn’t just about him.” Maybe I was hoping for atonement?

  "You said you were going to put a ring on his finger when you got back.”

  I sat back.

  “Where are you going?”

  I pushed aside the crumpled remains of the cup. “Chicago.”

  “Why?”

  “To do what I should have done months ago. Cooperate.”

  “You’re talking about the FBI guy who was following you around a few months back.”

  “In a roundabout way, yeah.”

  “I thought he dropped his case.”

  “I think he did, but his boss didn’t.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  The doors to the cafeteria opened and a small group of men and women came in. They chattered among themselves while they gathered up trays to enter the food line looking for all the world like high-schoolers getting ready to collect their lunch. Only it was the middle of the night, and they carried an air of fatigue only those who work relentlessly to save lives could wear.

  “I think the FBI might have arranged for Dillon to disappear from prison.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because they would have had access to his psych evaluation. They would have seen his obsessive behavior concerning Morgan. They would have known he would go after him.”

  “That’s illegal.”

  “Probably.”

  “How could they do something like that? Who would let them do something like that?”

  “Not everyone obeys the law, even the FBI.”

  “Does Sheriff Parks know?”

  “Yeah. I told him.”

  “And?”

  “He’s a sheriff of a small town; the FBI doesn’t have to answer to him.”

  “Well, they have to answer to someone.” She hit the table with her fist.

  “It’s supposed to work that way, but it doesn’t.” And never had in my experience.

  Aunt Jenny stared at me. “I still don’t get it. Why would they want to hurt Morgan?”

  “I called Jeff on his scare tactics. I raised the odds with my own. And I think it backfired.”

  “They did this because of you?”

  Someone laughed, and I jumped. My hands shook so I put them in my lap.

  “Look at me, Grant.” It would have been easier to face the business end of a gun. “You told me Morgan was safe with you.”

  “I thought he was.” I did. I swear I did. My guilt and pain raked my muscles raw. I ached for tears, but there were no more. I’d left everything I had back in Morgan’s room.

  She clenched her jaw and shifted her gaze. I had no idea if she flexed her hands because she wanted to hit me or wished for that shotgun she’d once threatened me with.

  After a long moment, she seemed to regain control. “So now they’ve got your attention, you’re going to give them what they want?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And you think that will make them stop?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, then closed it.

  “Yeah, in my experience, rattlesnakes aren’t very trustworthy.”

  I snorted. “I think there is more to this than official FBI business. I have no idea what, but it’s personal.”

  “And you don’t know why?”

  “No.”

  “What do they want?”

  “My client list. The times and dates I shipped things. At least that’s what they told me.”

  “What do you think they really want?”

  Aunt Jenny’s question held me in place. “I honestly have no idea.”

  She nodded as if she expected the answer. “You ever kill a man, Grant?”

  “Yes, but only when I had to.”

  “Good.” The coldness in her tone almost made me ask her the same thing. Then I decided I didn’t want to know. “How long will you be gone?”

  “I’m not sure. A few days. Less than a week, I hope.”

  “And what if you don’t come back? What about Morgan then?”

  “I will.” I realized what she meant. Really meant. “But it… yeah. I’ll make all the arrangements with my lawyer for Morgan’s financial needs. Just promise me no matter what happens, you won’t take him out of his home. You’ll use the money to hire as many people as you need to take care of him and get him better.”

  Aunt Jenny pushed at the notebook with all its lies and fake pictures about happy residents. “Won’t be necessary.” She brought her gaze back up. “’Cause you’re gonna be back here, then you’ll put that ring on Morgan’s finger, and get married.”

  Chapter Eight

  I made all the necessary phone calls to Harriet while I waited to board my flight. Like a good friend, she didn’t argue with me, but the tone of her voice conveyed her worry. I assured her everything would be fine, but she didn’t believe me.

  Thing is, neither did I.

  Before we hung up, I made my first and only demand of
her. “Make sure Morgan is taken care of.” Such simple words and completely benign, but the tone of my voice would tell her exactly what I meant. If I wound up dead, he would always have what he needed, and if Hines survived and tried to come after him, FBI or not, he was a dead man.

  Since I didn’t use any kind of fake ID, I expected the FBI to know I’d returned to town, but I didn’t expect them to be so eager to welcome me back.

  Jeff stood propped against a post next to the luggage carousel. His dark glasses hid his eyes, but his smirk was blinding.

  I collected my lone bag and tossed it over my shoulder.

  Jeff fell in beside me. “Aren’t you going to say hello?”

  “Nope.”

  I walked through a gap in the crowd, and Jeff had to push his way around people to catch up. “So what brings you home? Business or pleasure?”

  “This isn’t my home.” I stepped aside for a lady pushing a stroller. Jeff nodded at her and she smiled.

  “Ah yes.” Jeff followed me to the bathroom. “You’ve settled down, bought a house, maybe even a dog, and found someone to share it all with. Although I still think your choice for a partner is debatable. Of course there’s still time to grow some ethics.”

  I stopped with my hand on the door. The fury burning in me must have shown in my expression because Jeff lost his cocky smile and took a step back. It could have been my imagination, but I think he even moved his hand closer to his gun.

  I went inside. So did Jeff, but he stayed close to the door.

  “So why are you back in Chicago?”

  “Vacation.” I put down my bag. “You know noise, wind, smog, just what the body needs to balance out all that wholesome sunlight and clean air I’ve been breathing for the past six months.” It was tempting to piss on his shoes. If he’d been closer, I might have.

  “Vacation? And you think the FBI is bad at making excuses.” I finished and went to the sink. His reflection grew behind me. “I’ll find out eventually, so you might as well tell me.”

  I dried my wet hands over the front of his shirt making dark blue stains on the pale cornflower fabric.

  I grabbed up my bag and was almost out the door when Jeff said, “We know about you putting your client list up for sale. Out of curiosity how much are your so-called morals worth? A quarter million, half a million, more? We even started an office pool on who the lucky recipient would be.”

  I don’t remember lunging for Jeff. Just one moment I was looking at him, the next I had him pinned against the wall. His sunglasses clattered to the floor. “Did you take bets on Morgan? So what’s a man’s life worth to you now days, Jeff, ten, twenty, thirty bucks?”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Jeff twisted in my grip, and I slung him into the paper towel dispenser. A smear of crimson followed him back to the wall.

  Jeff tried to say something, but I crushed his cheek against the wall. Spittle made white flecks on his bottom lip. I pressed harder, and tears formed in the corner of his eye.

  “What was it you said to me, Homeland Security? Is that what you did to get him out, or did you just flash your FBI club badge and walk him to your car?”

  “I—” His reply sputtered out with a shove to his back.

  “You think that badge makes you invincible? It doesn’t.” I leaned closer. The evil in my tone crawled from the darkest parts of my soul. Parts I never knew existed or maybe hadn’t until the threat of losing Morgan became real. “And it sure as fuck isn’t big enough to protect the people you love.”

  Jeff rolled a look up at me. Fear, raw, unshielded, and real burned in his eyes. He swallowed several times. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Truth or lie? I studied his face. I inhaled the stench of terror forming beads of sweat on his skin. He trembled until his very bones rattled. I think for the first time Jeff realized the man I could have become.

  I think for the first time, so did I.

  I left him collapsed against the wall, gasping for air. The dark purple splotches in his cheeks turned red, then pink, and the color slowly returned to his complexion.

  He touched his ear and crimson painted his fingertips. I said nothing while he used a few paper towels to stem the blood flow while checking the damage in the mirror.

  Leaning forward, he opened his jacket and the butt of his gun showed clearly under his arm. At any time, he could have pulled that weapon on me and gotten away with killing me for attacking him.

  He dabbed the paper towel under the faucet. “Now do you think you can tell me what the hell you’re talking about?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I did.”

  “Try me.”

  I picked up my bag. “Just answer me this, did you know Hines was going to let him out?”

  “Who?”

  “Dillon Barnes?”

  His eyebrows wrinkled. “Name’s familiar but…” He shook his head. “Who is he?”

  “A psychopath who went after Morgan.”

  “Is he okay?” Jeff turned. Either he was an Academy award-winning actor or his concern was real.

  “Yeah, he’ll live.”

  “Grant, we both know a man can live and not be all right. Is Morgan all right?”

  “When I left the hospital, he was still sedated. I’ll know more when I get back.” If I got back. “Now if you excuse me, I need to go find a motel to check in to and wait for your boss to call.”

  “Hines? What does he have to do with this?”

  I started toward the door and he cut me off. “Move.”

  “Not till you tell me what’s going on.”

  “If you don’t know, you don’t want to.”

  “Who are you selling your client list to?”

  I exhaled a bitter laugh. “You really want to know?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Special Agent Hines.”

  He squinted at me. “What?”

  “Yeah, and the price is Morgan’s life.” Or what was left of it. I pushed the thought out of my head. He would be fine. When I got back to Durstrand, he would be the same man I’d fallen in love with. He would laugh, he would pull his pranks, and most of all, he would build beautiful glass sculptures in an attempt to let the world hear the wisdom the light had to share.

  I tried to push past Jeff but didn’t have the strength and wound up propped against his shoulder one hand on the wall.

  “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Why, so you can run and tattle to all your little cohorts?”

  He cupped the side of my face and the warmth of his skin chased back the cold crawling through me. “No, because I’d heard about your client list going up for sale.”

  “And you wanted to put in a bid?”

  “No. I wanted to find out what happened to make you willing to sell it. We both know you don’t need the money.” He swallowed, and his throat clicked. “I also thought maybe…”

  “What?”

  He stepped away again, picked up his sunglasses, and checked his reflection.

  The bathroom door opened and a couple of other men came in. One went into the stall, the other the urinals.

  Jeff indicated the exit with a tilt of his head. We walked out, shoulder to shoulder. Almost close enough to hold hands. When the crowds thinned a little, he said, “After our last conversation, I dropped the case on you. Hines wasn’t happy. He insisted I stay in Durstrand. But it was my case by then and my call. He tried to go over my head, but the Deputy Director agreed with me. We’d wasted enough resources and had nothing to show for it.”

  “Still doesn’t answer my question.”

  “Your case is fantasy fodder for a few new people. I was afraid if another agent started poking around, you might think I was involved and… I crossed the line with you, Grant. I’ve only seen you like that a few times and the last time was when you killed Caruso.”

  “I killed him to keep him from shooting you.” As if he needed a reminder.

  “I know. But you gave him a chance to
stand down. He wouldn’t, and you didn’t even blink when you pulled the trigger. I saw the look on your face. I heard your voice. I heard that same tone when you called me before you were supposed to come to Maysville. You didn’t even have to send a photo to prove your point, I was already convinced.” We stepped outside and found a space of unoccupied wall in the sunlight. Outside, his paled complexion made the flush in his cheeks glow. “I want you to know I puked my guts up for the next hour.”

  And for some reason, I didn’t feel a bit guilty. He was right, he did cross the line.

  “Well, you can rest easy. I’m not here for you. I’m just here to see the sights.”

  He fished a pack of gum from his pocket, offered me a piece, and I declined. “Why do you think it was Hines who sent someone after Morgan?”

  “Where should I direct my answer to make sure you get the best reception?”

  “I’m alone and not wired.”

  “And I’m supposed to take your word?”

  “If I wasn’t, you’d be dead or at least in cuffs for the stunt you pulled in the bathroom.”

  He had a point.

  “Because he called me, and basically told me he did. Then he promised to send someone more experienced next time.”

  Jeff blew out a breath. “I know the guy’s a bastard but…”

  “You can’t believe he’d do something like that?”

  “Putting a hit out on someone is illegal, no matter who you are.”

  “He didn’t put a hit out on Morgan.”

  Jeff’s eyebrows rose over the edge of his glasses.

  “Dillon Barnes was serving time for almost beating Morgan to death several years ago. Hines arranged to let him out.”

  “How did he know—?”

  “He’d go after Morgan?”

  Jeff nodded.

  “He was up for a parole hearing next month. Harriet had arranged for the doctor to speak to the board on Morgan’s behalf. Since the guy pled out, the trial judge never heard the state shrink’s eval. At the hearing, he was going to recommend Dillon be moved to a facility for the criminally insane. He felt Dillon needed treatment. The guy wasn’t just short a few marbles, the bag was fucking empty. All Hines would have had to do was read Dillon’s file. The odds were by far in favor of him going after Morgan than trying to disappear.”