Scared of the Dark: A Crime Novel

by Easton Vaughn

  “Where’s Lemon?” he asked her.

  “Don’t worry about her,” she said. “I’m here to look after you. Brought you something to eat.”

  “I don’t want it. I want Lemon.”

  She smiled. “That’s gonna be a problem.”

  He swallowed. “Has something happened to her?”

  She added a shrug to the smile.

  “Who are you?” he demanded, moving to get up too quickly, the room spinning in a vortex around him. He plopped back on the cot.

  “Easy, chief,” she said. “I don’t need you fainting and hitting your head under my watch.”

  “Tell me where Lemon is?”

  “I don’t like your demanding tone.”

  “Who are you?” he asked softly.

  “A little better,” she said. “My name’s Deborah.”

  “Be straight with me. Has something happened to Lemon?”

  She smiled, but didn’t answer.

  Smiled even wider when he asked a second and then a third time.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  They stood up to their knees in a stand of needlerush and spartina, at the north end of the island, an area of salt marsh resting a comfortable walking distance from the beach. Merritt was sharing his combat experiences with Will, in particular one confrontation that still nudged at his mind on a nearly daily basis—a short-lived but bloody engagement with Iraqi troops at the Kani Domlan Ridge, just southeast of the city of Kirkuk. He and his fellow troops had triumphantly taken over the city, but in the settling dust Merritt noticed that Vreeland, 3rd Brigade, United States Army, was down.

  “He was torn up, everything shredded below his waist. But for some reason, I actually thought I could save him. I pumped his chest, heard his ribs crunching as I broke them.” Merritt hocked and spit. A pained expression bloomed on his face. “After a while I gave up with that and just held his hand. He had a surprisingly strong grip, even as he was dying. He looked into my eyes near the end, and there was fear in his eyes as real as taxes.”

  “That’s a tough story,” Will said.

  Merritt turned to look at him, frowned. “Tough? You can’t come up with anything more eloquent than that? Tough. Missing a train and getting to work late is tough. The shit in Kirkuk was…” He took a breath, shook his head, looked off in the distance.

  “You’re right,” Will said. “Bad choice of words. Especially to someone who was there.”

  Merritt nodded and continued looking off, untapped land ripe for construction as far as his eyes could see. “Why am I the only one who recognizes the true possibilities of the island?”

  “The others are deaf, dumb, and blind. Thanks to Shepherd’s brainwashing.”

  “You make the man sound like Jim Jones.”

  “If the shoe fits…”

  Merritt glanced Will’s way. “You say all the right things.”

  “Okay.”

  “What I wonder, though, is it just talk?”

  “I’m not big on talk,” Will replied.

  Merritt spit again. “It’s gonna get real Western here, before you know it. I can count on you? You got the steel for this? You not gonna boogie the minute it gets thick?”

  “Guess you’ll find out.”

  Merritt nodded, almost smiled. Will definitely looked and sounded the part. Whether or not his words and actions were more than just play, Merritt didn’t know. He’d yet to decide how he felt about that. “If I’m being honest with you,” he said, “I wonder sometimes if you’re just some sycophant.”

  “Sick-‘o-what?”

  Now Merritt did smile. “Don’t worry on it.”

  “I’m not like your boy,” Will told him. “Don’t you worry.”

  The smile left Merritt’s face, a frown replacing it, his voice gone hard. “You referring to Ruck?”

  “He didn’t strike me as anything but soft,” Will said. “What happened to him, had to happen. I’m not the type personally to cause you those kinds of problems—issues of loyalty, strength, or whatever. I tell you I’m with you, I’m with you. And I’ll stand strong. You can bet that.”

  “You talk an awful lot for someone ain’t big on it,” Merritt replied.

  Will, to his credit, kept quiet then.

  “I told Mosley and Wood about my plans for the cabins,” Merritt told him.

  “How’d they take it?”

  “Mosley wasn’t sold. Wood seemed in. He liked the idea of air conditioning. So I think he’s with us, unless Mosley influences him.”

  “Air conditioning s’what sold me.”

  Merritt nodded. “It’s a selling point, for sure.”

  Will cleared his throat. “Reason I came over here, though, is because I need to talk to you about something.”

  “Deborah is looking after the white boy now?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “You made sure we have eyes on Lemon?”

  “Twenty-four seven,” Will said. “Pleasant’s on it.”

  “Pleasant’s thorough,” Merritt replied. “You better believe she won’t make a move without him knowing about it.”

  “That’s about right. So, anyway, what I was going to say is—”

  “Ruck couldn’t be saved,” Merritt interrupted. “I would have kept him if I could. But I couldn’t. You better believe that.”

  Will sighed. “That’s exactly what I was saying before. I know it was a hard choice for you, but you made the right one.”

  “Leaders have to make some hard choices,” Merritt said.

  “Yeah. I don’t envy you.”

  “Shepherd had a narrow view of this thing.”

  Will grinned. “Had?”

  Merritt looked his way, but didn’t respond in any way. No facial tic, no words, nada.

  “If he does return,” Will said, “he’s in for a world of trouble if he tries to wrestle back control. Ain’t no fun when the rabbit’s got the gun.”

  “You calling me a wabbit,” Merritt said.

  “I’m glad to see you can joke. Being hard, all day, every day, that shit’ll fuck with you.”

  Merritt clapped him on the shoulder. “Consider me advised.”

  Will nodded. “Speaking of that, I really do need to talk with you.”

  Merritt exhaled. “Shoot.”

  “We have a bit of a problem back at camp.”

  “What kind of problem?”

  “It’s probably nothing. But I feel as though I need to bring it to you regardless.”

  “You gonna keep talking without saying anything?”

  Will let out a long breath. “It’s probably nothing.”

  “You’ve said that.”

  “Sheldon and Miss Amelia…”

  “Oh, boy. You tell me they’re an item and I just might boat my black ass back to the mainland.”

  Will crinkled his nose, a disgusted look on his face. “I don’t even want that image in my head. No, it’s nothing like that. At least I don’t believe it to be the case.”

  “So what is the case?”

  Will exhaled again. “Just so we’re clear, I didn’t have anything to do with this I’m about to tell you.”

  “Tell me what it is,” Merritt said calmly, “and I’ll be the judge of that.”

  “They’re missing.”

  Merritt cocked his head and frowned. “What do you mean missing?”

  “We can’t find either of them.”

  Merritt didn’t reply, just looked off in the distance. So much promise. So much possibility. The island had it all.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  He lay Miss Amelia down gently on a bed of leaves, her hands bound in front of her with leftover rope. There was a buzz in the air and in his ears and coursing through his bloodstream. It took a moment for him to recognize the buzz as simply nerves. Or possibly a degree of true regret. Despite his size or the things he’d done in the past, he wasn’t prone to violence. If a situation could be handled by talk rather than fists, then he was the first to embrace that alternative.

&nbs
p; He looked down at Miss Amelia, so peaceful and quiet he wondered whether she’d fallen asleep. But as soon as he had that thought her eyes popped open like those of a child’s doll. He took a jittery step back and a chill ran up his spine, raising the hairs on his neck and forearms.

  Miss Amelia’s white hair hung down wild, almost to her shoulders, the bandanna she usually contained it with falling and settling loosely around her wrinkled throat. Her skin had the texture and color of tree bark, and she had the unmistakable eyes of a voodoo priestess. It wasn’t beyond the scope of reality to believe that she could read a person’s mind, know a person’s heart, and invade a person’s soul. Looking at her, Sheldon felt a pervasive unease and discomfort. Enough so, he decided it had been smart of him to have bound her wrists with the rope. And it was best that he didn’t even consider undoing the ties.

  “Your mama would be so ashamed of you, boy,” she said, raising her hands for emphasis. “I knows she ain’t raise you to have an ol’ lady tied up and thrown on the ground like a sack of something weren’t worth a thing.”

  “I put you down careful,” he said. “I put you down careful.”

  “That make it right?”

  “I…you…”

  “Don’t be stutterin’, chile. You gon’ do this here, owns it.”

  Sheldon squared his shoulders. “You ain’t who you seem,” he said. “You ain’t who you seem.”

  “Who am I then?”

  “Not who you seem.”

  “Stop this fooshness, chile. Cut me loose and help me stand. My back and hip are achin’ somethin’ fierce down here on the ground.”

  Sheldon was certain she was being truthful about that, her aches and pains, yet he couldn’t free her.

  “Now, chile!” she barked.

  “You ain’t who you seem,” he repeated, shaking his head.

  “I ain’t who I seem? Pot callin’ the kettle black, seem like to me.”

  “I’ve heard all about you,” he stammered. “What you done. Heard Shepherd telling the Trustees.”

  “What I done?” The veil of kindness typically found on her face lifted. She hocked deep in her throat and spat at Sheldon’s feet in one fluid motion. He leaped back, too slowly, then looked down to see a gob of thick yellow mucous dripping from his sneakers.

  Despite all of the thoughts colliding in his head, he couldn’t seem to speak.

  Miss Amelia leered at him. “That’s right, you simpleminded motherfucka. I tagged you. Now you’re it, dumbass.”

  “Your mouth is…”

  “Don’t worry yourself about my mouth, you brain-dead bastard.”

  He’d heard the rumors, just as he’d told her, but until now he’d convinced himself they weren’t true. Couldn’t possibly be true. Whispers that Miss Amelia’s southern pickanniny accent was overdone and pure bullshit. That she’d bilked her friends and even her pastor out of nearly $1 million over the course of six years. A victim herself of Nigerian hucksters, she’d responded by letting her own dark criminal heart guide her.

  Sheldon hadn’t wanted to believe it.

  “That’s right,” she said, eyes blazing, “I’m not one you should mess with, you ignorant motherfucka.”

  “You shouldn’t talk that way. You shouldn’t talk that way.”

  “Suck my dick. How about that?” She spat at him again; this one he was quick enough to dodge. A worm of thick yellow mucous resting in the dirt a few inches in front of him.

  “You’re not a good person,” he told her. “Not a good person.”

  “Cut the shit and untie me,” she barked. “Always repeating yourself to make it seem like you’re some kind of retard.”

  “What?” He hoped his voice didn’t betray him.

  “Cut. The. Shit,” she said once more. “I don’t know who or what you are, but I do know you’re no more retard than I am somebody’s Aunt Jemima. I grew up tough in Detroit. Stayed there my whole life. Seebaldt Street. I would’ve cut the motherfucka expected me to pick cotton. Now set me free before I do something.”

  “Sit still,” he said. “Sit still.”

  But she leaned forward, used the momentum to rock her body back and forth. After a moment of that, exhausted, she scowled at him and stilled. “I’ve had enough of this shit,” she said through gritted teeth. “Cut me free before I do something, you dumbshit motherfucka.”

  Sheldon looked at her for a long moment, then a wicked smile flashed across his face. “I don’t care that you grew up in Detroit. Seebaldt or Seabiscuit, means nothing to me. What the hell you think you’re going to do to me, old lady? Your entire body is wracked with arthritis.”

  That quieted her.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  For some strange reason, Lemon couldn’t stop thinking about the first boy she’d let touch her. It hadn’t ended well. And neither had most of the situations she’d been in since. “Men are nothing but trouble,” she said out loud, looking up as Mosley and Haywood approached Candace’s tent. Just as she’d done the night Candace ran off, Lemon snuggled now in one of her friend’s blankets. Someone had taken most of them, leaving just this one. That was okay, because it still held Candace’s scent.

  “What were you saying?” Mosley asked.

  “Nothing,” Lemon said, shaking aside the comment and the thoughts that preceded it—that situation from long ago, last night’s failed encounter with Aiden. “You two part of the shadow team?”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Mosley said.

  Lemon nodded toward a stand of trees. “Pleasant’s been watching me all morning. He’s not as subtle as he believes himself to be.”

  Mosley looked pained by her words. “I have nothing to do with that.”

  He and Haywood moved closer, saw her face up close, both of them too stunned to do more than gasp.

  “Ran into a fist,” she said. “Clumsy me.”

  “Who did that to you?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Was it James?”

  “Nice shirt,” she said to Haywood. Silky polyester fabric. Pink, black, and light blue color scheme. A pattern of rectangles and egg-shaped circles.

  “It has it charms,” he replied, his mouth tight. “Thank you.”

  Mosley said, “You’re avoiding the issue of your face, Lemon.”

  “I take it this isn’t a pleasure visit,” she replied.

  Mosley sighed. “I don’t want to keep pressing you, honey, but this is serious. I’m deeply disturbed by it. Abusing women is just…wrong.”

  “Light a candle and move the hell on,” she said.

  Mosley nodded, stood up straight. “James claims he overheard you planning an escape from the island.”

  “Those words alone are troubling,” she said without pause.

  Mosley frowned. “What words?”

  “Escape from the island,” she said with emphasis. “I’m a prisoner here? I thought this was an oasis of redemption.”

  “Perhaps I misspoke,” he said. “However you view it, we all pledge our undying commitment to the island and each other. We can’t go back to our old lives. It’s too risky for those who remain here. And why would we go back anyway? To face the trouble that awaits us? As the first lady of the island, surely you understand that? Which is why I don’t believe James.”

  “In most cases,” Lemon said, “it’s wise not to believe him. But I’m afraid he was telling the truth on this one.”

  “What?” Mosley was too stunned to say more, it seemed.

  Haywood’s mouth fell open, but he didn’t speak either.

  “I want something different,” Lemon told them. “Something more. I made a mistake coming here.”

  “You’d be in prison if you were back on the mainland,” Mosley reminded her.

  She nodded. “As I should be.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You can’t run from your mistakes and think they won’t catch up with you,” she said.

  “Shepherd says—”

  “I d
on’t care what Shepherd says anymore.”

  “Oh, my.” Two words from Mosley this time before he shut down.

  “The island is changing,” she said, reaching up to gently touch her eye. “And not for the better.”

  “You shouldn’t be so hard on Shepherd,” Mosley said. “None of this is what he intended. James is acting purely on his own.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Mosley stood up straighter. “And speaking of James, he insinuates that he’s done something to Shepherd. Do you know anything about that?”

  “He might have,” Lemon admitted, surprising herself with the calm in her voice. “I wouldn’t put it past him. I think he’s planning to take over the island.”

  “He has ideas about construction,” Haywood piped in. “Buildings with air conditioning. I don’t think it’s all bad.”

  Mosley shook his head. “Haywood hates the heat. He’s willing to make a deal with the devil to avoid a little sweat.”

  “I don’t mind sweating for a purpose,” Haywood said, some meaning in the words that Lemon could tell were directed at a conversation he’d previously had with Mosley.

  Mosley mumbled something in reply.

  “And you know that,” Haywood added.

  Lemon cleared her throat to remind them that she was still here. “I don’t care anymore,” she said. “I want out. It’s not a secret at this point. I’ll leave the first opportunity I get.”

  “James will chase you down,” Mosley said. “Like he did with Candace.”

  That statement sobered all of them. They fell silent.

  After a long stretch, Mosley broke the quiet. “Ruck is gone now, too.”

  “What do you mean gone?” Lemon asked, frowning.

  “Gone,” Mosley said.

  “That’s what James said when I questioned him about Candace. Ruck now as well? Are you saying…?” She couldn’t even finish the horrible thought.

  Mosley nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m saying, without actually saying it. I’m too distraught to put words to the idea. Merritt bragged about what he’d done to Ruck. Said Ruck wasn’t loyal to him, questioned him, and had to go because of it.”

  “I have to get off this island,” Lemon whispered.

  Haywood pursed his lips and sighed. Mosley did the same.