“Sorry about this,” he finally said. “It’s not what I planned.”
“What did you plan?”
“I thought Skyler would fall into my arms and we’d ride off into the sunset together. She has other plans, though.”
“I know she holds you in the utmost regard, Tanner,” Carissa said as sweetly as she could muster. “You’ve been friends forever, she tells me.”
“We have. We met in the third grade. I knew then that she was going to be my wife someday.”
“That’s very sweet.”
“Didn’t happen. I got some bitch knocked up and married her instead. Apparently, I killed her the other day. I’m pretty sure my kid won’t ever forgive me for that one.”
Carissa didn’t know how to respond. She sat silent.
“Carissa Lamb. You picked the wrong time to come to Maine, huh?”
“It’s very nice here. The weather is worlds nicer than a Las Vegas summer.”
“I never made it to Las Vegas. I bet it’s a fun place.”
“It can be pretty magical, if you like manufactured worlds. The Golden Cactus is where I’m doing my show. It’s the newest casino resort on the strip. It’s right near the Wynn.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“It’s another casino. Upscale. The Cactus is nice, too, just a bit more pedestrian. It’s a four star.”
Tanner was quiet for a moment. “I never stayed in a starred hotel. Add that to my long list of shit I’ll never get to do.”
“I’d love to host you in Las Vegas, Tanner. You could be my special guest. The best suite. Tickets to any show you want to see. Brenda has a restaurant there. We could make it a friend’s weekend extravaganza.”
“You know that isn’t going to happen.”
“It could.”
“It can’t!” he exploded.
Her whole body tensed up and she closed her eyes, afraid the next moment would involve a bullet and that bullet would kill her. She wanted to keep his mind occupied. And she prayed that everyone assembled downstairs was working on a plan.
After a few minutes, she tried again. “Tell me about your son.”
He sighed. “I know what you’re doing.”
“What’s his name?”
“Charlie. Charles Jenkins Millhouse. Jenkins was his mother Wanda’s maiden name.”
“He’s cute, isn’t he? I bet he’s really cute. You have just the one?”
“There was another,” Tanner said. “He died before he was born. Charlie was an accident. Wanda didn’t want to try again after she lost the first one.”
“That’s so hard. I’m sorry.”
Tanner exhaled slowly. He decided to make her talk. “What’s the worst thing about being a celebrity?”
“Oh my,” Carissa said, hoping it wouldn’t come back to her again. “I guess the fact that everyone assumes that I have things to do, and invitations, and friends, when I really don’t. People think I’m too famous to invite to their parties. They think I wouldn’t come. Do you know how many nights I sit at home alone? I haven’t been asked out on a date in years. They all assume I must have someone in my life. And I don’t.”
“It’s hard to believe.”
“I guess so, which is why they never ask. I mean, I go to premieres and big charity events and stuff like that. The Oscars, Emmys. But I’d really just like some guy to ask me to go to dinner at the Olive Garden every once in a while. I’d love that.”
“I’ve never been to an Olive Garden.”
“It’s quite tasty. Pedestrian, but tasty.”
“You like that word, pedestrian.”
“I guess it’s not very nice. I should work on my vocabulary.”
He was quiet, listening for movement outside the room. Nothing.
“Where is Charlie?” she asked.
“Shhhh.” He stood up and went to the door and put his ear against the wood. Tanner couldn’t hear a thing. “Did they leave?”
“I can’t imagine.”
“They’ve all known each other their entire lives,” he said, returning to his spot on the floor. “You’re new. Maybe they don’t care about you.”
“That’s not very nice. I’m a superstar.”
“Ha! Superstars aren’t supposed to refer to themselves as superstars.”
“I was kidding.”
“You’re very beautiful. I’d ask you out. I’d even take you to an Olive Garden.”
“Thanks.”
They sat in silence for what seemed like hours, listening to each others’ breathing. Carissa realized Tanner had fallen asleep.
Downstairs, the Sheriff and his son sat at the kitchen table working up rescue scenarios. Brenda stood at the front window watching a news reporter begin her report under blazing lights set up on tripods down in front of Lois’ house. And Skyler and Porter paced in the living room. Skyler wondered why Porter had made himself a part of all of this, but she didn’t have the energy to ask.
Kristin popped her head into the house and whispered to Skyler, “Where are the Littles?” Skyler pointed toward the back of the house.
“Sir,” Kristin said when she found her boss, “There’s a SWAT team in Portland. Should we call them in?”
“I don’t think we need to go to that extreme,” he said. “We can handle this. I want to handle this without constantly having to reach out to neighboring jurisdictions. We’re already a laughing stock.”
“Not hardly,” Leonard said. “Come on, Dad. It can’t hurt to ask for help. We’re not experienced in hostage negotiations.”
The Sheriff wasn’t budging. “Deputy Grant, I need you back outside. Seriously. We can’t have anyone getting too close to this house. And for that matter, you probably should ask Matt to clear folks out of the houses on both sides of Skyler’s. Stray bullets could fly over and kill someone. I’d never hear the end of it if that happened.”
“You do know who lives next door, right?” Kristin asked.
“Shit balls,” the Sheriff said. “Well, she’s going to find out one way or another. See if you can move the mayor and whomever else is over there across the street to a neighbor’s house. If she needs to talk to me, have her call my cell. Let’s try not to use the radios as much as possible. CBS is listening.”
Kristin left the house and Skyler and Porter sat down at the table.
“He can’t hear us down here, in case you were wondering,” Skyler said. “There’s two feet of insulation between this ceiling and the floors upstairs. Complete sound barrier.”
“Good to know,” Sheriff Little said in his normal voice. “That should help, too, if he starts shooting through the floor.”
“I’m willing to go up there to give talking to him a shot.” All eyes were on Porter. “No, really. Skyler and Brenda are too close to him, he hates Leonard’s guts, and he’s already proven that he’s unwilling to talk to you, Sheriff. I’m the next best shot.”
“I appreciate your willingness, Porter, I really do,” the Sheriff said, “but I’d most certainly lose my job if I allowed you to do that. Especially if something happened to you.”
“Do you really care what happens to me?”
Skyler put a hand over one of Porter’s and squeezed. “That’s not helping.” She turned to Leonard. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking he killed Patty, too.”
“No, he didn’t,” the Sherriff said flatly. “Tanner was officially ruled out because he had an alibi. We checked the security logs at his house. He was there. Wanda corroborated that. The traffic camera at the corner of Main and Hampshire proved it, too. He wasn’t anywhere near the Chowder House until he arrived when we were all there.”
“It’d be a lot easier if he just did it all,” Leonard said.
Skyler stared him down. “What is wrong with you?”
“H
ere’s the plan. We need a distraction at the back of the house, in the backyard. Something big, flashy, and loud. Seconds after that begins, Leonard and I are going to break down that bedroom door and take him by surprise. If we can somehow get a message to Carissa…we need her as low to the floor as possible.”
“Do you have vests on?” Porter asked.
“No, but we each have one in our trunks. We’ll get them on before we begin. We need to get the tactical LED flashlights, too. They’re 3,000 lumens each. We’ll blind the shit out of him. Even if he does fire at us, he’ll likely miss.”
Skyler was perplexed. “Likely?! Sheriff. Is this a good plan?”
“Not if you have a better one.”
“Allow me to try to call him one more time, please.”
“By all means,” the Sherriff said. “But we’re going outside to get ready for an assault. And Porter, this is where you can help us. We need you to construct the distraction in the backyard. Any ideas?”
Porter’s face lit up. “I have a shit pile of fireworks. I can grab a metal trash can from behind Mrs. Millhouse’s garage and fill it up.”
The Sheriff considered that for a moment. “They better all be legal.”
“That’s what you’re worried about right now?” Skyler asked. “I’m calling his cell.”
“Hello?”
“Hi, honey. Can I come talk to you?”
“Nope. Done talking. Goodbye, Skyler.”
“Tanner, honey, this isn’t going to end well for you unless you let us talk to you.”
She put the phone down on the table. “He hung up.”
“That probably wasn’t the best approach,” Brenda said.
“We’re going to get our stuff,” the Sheriff said. He handed a radio to Porter. “When you’re in position and ready to go, give us a warning. As soon as we hear the fireworks, we’re going in.”
“And Carissa? How are we keeping her safe?”
“This will work,” Leonard said. “It’s the whole reason we’re going in. He’s a loose cannon.”
Skyler shook her head. “We need to get out of the house for this. Brenda, let’s go across the street with the dogs.”
Outside, Skyler and Brenda each took a dog on a leash and hurried across the street to stand behind a parked car. They were joined by Skyler’s next door neighbor Janey—who was wearing pajamas and a cardigan—and Mayor Millhouse. The neighbors had a lot of questions and Skyler did her best to collect her thoughts enough to give short, but concise answers, especially to the Mayor, whose grandson was, in this little world of police cars, news van, and worried neighbors, public enemy number one.
“I knew this would end badly,” Lois said quietly. “He was a pot ready to boil over at any moment. What makes me especially sad is that I was finally in a position to give him his inheritance…and I never got a chance to tell him.”
“I don’t think it would help to tell him now,” Brenda said flatly. “How much?”
“Brenda!” Skyler yelled.
“I had no idea Carissa Lamb was twenty feet away from me all day,” Janey said in her thick Southern drawl. “I mean, I saw all the hubbub over here, but I didn’t want to pry. I just thought y’all were doing some renovations to the house or something.”
Ignoring all the inane talk, Skyler kept her eyes and ears open, waiting for the firestorm to begin. She wasn’t the praying type, but couldn’t help falling back into the habit she’d been taught as a little girl. She silently asked God to keep Leonard and Tanner safe…and Porter and Maynard, too. She prayed her house wouldn’t suffer any more bullet holes. And she added a second prayer for Leonard; despite everything, including her self-inflicted swearing off of relationships, she was falling in love with the guy and she needed him in one piece.
After taking a big swig of Jack Daniels, Porter opened the footlocker in the back of his walk-in closet and pulled out scores of illegal fireworks. He scooped them into an empty pillowcase and with the bag flung over his shoulder like a demented Santa Claus, he went to the kitchen to find the long-necked lighter. He sailed down the exterior stairs, dumped the contents of a metal garbage pail onto the driveway, and hurled everything over the fence that defined the property line between Lois and Skyler’s backyards.
When he had everything in place, he pulled the radio off his belt and depressed the ‘talk’ button. “Porter Maddox, reporting for duty,” he said. He let go and listened.
“Do it,” the Sheriff said in response.
Porter pulled the trigger on the lighter and nothing happened. Again and again he attempted to produce a flame. Nothing. His heart raced. He didn’t want to let everyone down. Then he remembered the small Bic in his jeans pocket. “Thank God for cigarettes,” he said. He tossed the larger lighter, palmed the smaller one, and started a few wicks inside the garbage can. And then he ran. He couldn’t afford to get burned again.
From a safe distance, slightly barricaded behind a large oak tree, he watched as the firestorm began. Bottle rockets, cherry bombs, roman candles, ground spinners, and sparklers all ignited each other, sending an eruption of fire and frenzy into the night sky. And then he lit a cigarette.
Porter looked up at Skyler’s bedroom window. He saw a quick bright light. Flashes of brighter lights followed. And then everything was black again.
He let the fireworks continue exploding and took off running to the front of the house.
As the fireworks began outside, Maynard Little nodded at his son. They turned on their flashlights and Leonard kicked in the door. Tanner spun around, gun in hand, and both the Sheriff and Leonard shot at the same time. Tanner got off a shot at the same time, hitting the Sheriff in the upper chest. He went down. Tanner went down. And Carissa was nowhere in sight.
Leonard kicked the gun out of Tanner’s hand then got down on his knees and checked the man’s pulse. Nothing. Tanner had a bullet hole in the center of his forehead.
The overhead light suddenly came on in the room and Leonard twisted around to look at the doorway. His father fell down to his knees and started coughing up blood. “Find her!” he managed to yell.
Kristin and Matt stormed through the front door with their weapons drawn—a first for both. They raced up the stairs and found their boss covered in blood. Matt got the man on to his back while Kristin radioed for an ambulance and the other two deputies. Leonard was opening closets then raced into the bathroom. No sign of the singer. The exterior doors were closed, she had to be in the room. He got on his hands and knees and peered under the bed. “Are you okay?” he asked the terrified face looking back at him.
“I’m thinking I don’t like Maine anymore,” Carissa said. She crawled out and allowed Leonard to help her to her feet. Then he went right to his father’s side. Matt had his fingers inside the gaping wound just above the clavicle at the base of the Sheriff’s neck. He was desperately trying to control the bleeding, but it appeared the bullet severed the carotid artery. Time was up for the law man, Leonard thought.
“Dad,” Leonard said softly. But the man was gone. He looked into Matt’s face and shook his head slowly. “Thanks, man. But I can’t…” Leonard stood up and left the room. Kristin reached out to grab him, but he jerked away and descended the stairs.
Porter rounded the corner and slipped on the dew-covered grass, tumbling to the ground just as Skyler and Brenda were running up the front walk. Brenda helped Porter to his feet and Skyler flung herself into Leonard’s arms. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t want to know the details yet. She was just happy he was alive.
He pulled away and looked into her face and managed, “Tanner and my dad are both gone. Carissa is okay.” And then he hugged her again, tighter the second time. “I’m never letting go.”
They could hear the ambulance siren getting closer and knew they still had work to do. Leonard let go of Skyler and started walking towards the mayor who was standing in the middle of
the street. He gave her the news. She didn’t flinch. She nodded her head and turned and walked slowly back to her house ignoring the shouts from the television news reporters as she passed their trucks.
“Should someone go with her?” Brenda asked. “Oh, damn it, I’ll do it.” And she jogged to catch up with Tanner’s grandmother.
Skyler grabbed Porter’s hand. “Thank you. You saved Carissa’s life.”
“I only wish I could have done more,” he said. “I’m sorry about Tanner. I know you two had a special bond.”
She couldn’t quite process the loss. “He was special alright. I’m going to miss him. But I think I feel most sorry for Charlie. In just a few days he lost both his mother and his father. It’s very, very sad.”
“Yeah,” Porter said. “If I’m not needed here, I think I’m going to go home. I’ll clean up the fireworks mess tomorrow.”
To avoid the press, he walked between Skyler’s and Lois’ houses and jumped the fence. And as he was climbing his stairs he said to himself, “Two down and two to go.”
THIRTY-TWO
The next morning, Carissa Lamb woke up in her hotel room at the Sea Captain’s Inn and texted her assistant:
I lied. Ready to come home. How soon can the jet get to Portland? Maine, not Oregon. Have the captain text me the details. I don’t have his number. I might, but can’t remember his name.
In the suite next door, Skyler and Leonard decided to finally get out of bed after a restless night of tossing and turning and conversations in the dark. They both lost someone very important to them and processing that information had both their brains in over-drive. After Skyler called down to room service for coffee, they sat in their robes on the small balcony overlooking the water.
“What’s next?” she finally had the nerve to ask him.
“I honestly don’t know. I’ll tell you one thing, I think it’s high time that I get the fuck out of Wabanaki, Maine.”
“You’re not interested in your dad’s job?”
“Are you kidding?” Leonard snapped. “Did you seriously just ask me that? I have no interest in that. I had no interest in being a cop to begin with, so I certainly don’t want to be the boss to that bunch of nitwits. Let Lois Millhouse find some other schmuck for the job. It pays shit, anyway.”
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