Envy the Night

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His fingers froze on the armrest when the cell phone rang. Jumpy. He took the phone out, saw it was Nora’s number. She was probably calling to order him out of the truck, not wanting to see him when she came outside.

“There’s a problem,” she said when he answered. Tension in her voice, but not the angry sort.

“What?”

“One of them is inside with me, and the other is watching you through a gun scope.” Speaking softly but clearly. “I’ve been asked to tell you to take your gun out, hold it in the air for a second, and then put it inside the glove compartment. If you don’t listen, they will shoot you.”

Told you, told you, told you! the ghost screamed at him. It’s over now, son, over because you got lazy and dumb and told yourself that wouldn’t matter. It always matters.

“You’re with your father?” Frank said. “This guy was waiting in your father’s room?”

“No, I—” There was a rustle, a whisper, and then her voice returned. “Frank, put the gun in the glove compartment, and do it fast.”

Shit. He hadn’t seen anyone watching, had no proof that this thing about the guy with the scope wasn’t a bluff, but he had to listen. He already knew there could be someone in those woods north of the building. Had been trying to ignore the notion for the last ten minutes. Moving slowly, he reached inside his jacket with his free hand and withdrew the Smith & Wesson, held it in the air, then squeezed the phone between his ear and shoulder while he opened the glove compartment and put the weapon inside.

“I put the gun away.”

More whispering, then, “We’re coming outside. He wants you to get behind the wheel and keep your hands above the dash. If you see anyone else, look normal.”

The call was disconnected, but he kept the phone at his ear as he slid across the seat, banging his knees on the gearshift. Without looking at the display, he punched the CALL button with his thumb. That would bring up a list of previously called numbers, and Ezra’s number, entered just before leaving the island, would be at the top of the list. Most times it doesn’t work on the water, but I’ll give you the number. It’ll ring, if nothing else.

Frank hit the CALL button again, keeping the phone up and hoping the watcher wasn’t going to be aware of exactly when the call from inside the nursing home had ended. Still, he wouldn’t have much time, because as soon as Nora and the guy with her left the building, it would be obvious that Frank should no longer have the phone to his ear.

One ring, then two, no answer, and right then he saw them—Nora and the man he’d knocked out in the body shop, rounding the corner of the building. Either there was another door, or they’d gone through a window. Odds were good nobody in the building had seen them leave. He closed the phone without getting an answer, dropped it into his lap, and thought, Figure it out, Ezra, figure it out. There’s trouble on the way.

Nora walked to the truck quickly but without obvious fear, eyes up, stride steady. That was a good word for her, steady. She’d hung together through all of this, with the one exception coming when they’d found Jerry’s body. Brave girl. She didn’t deserve this.

Frank noticed the door was locked when they were about ten feet from the truck and leaned over to unlock it. When he moved, the gun in the tall guy’s hand showed for the first time, rising fast. Frank unlocked the door and leaned back, held his hands up again, indicating it hadn’t been an aggressive move, no suicidal idiot sitting in this truck, no, sir. The gun dropped, and then the door was open and Nora was inside the truck and sitting beside him, the tall guy piling in behind her.

“Keys,” the guy said, and Nora fished her keys out and passed them to Frank.

“Start it up and drive out of here. Take a right out of the parking lot, and go straight until I say something else. Keep both hands on the wheel, keep the speed down, and keep your mouth shut.”

Simple enough. Frank did as he was told, made a right turn away from the nursing home without anyone stopping them or even seeing them. They’d gone about a half mile before he noticed that Nora’s leg was trembling against his.

Ezra rotated the cell phone in his palm and stared out across the water. The wind was coming at the island in uneven gusts, pushing tendrils of gray clouds ahead of it. Just one boat had passed in all the time he’d been out here, and he’d recognized it as Dwight Simonton’s pontoon. Unthreatening. A peaceful afternoon, a lonely lake.

But there was the phone in his hand, small and still and silent since those two rings, just two, that had come in from Frank Temple’s son. Ezra didn’t like the two rings. Liked it even less that there had been no second attempt.

He’d thought about calling Frank himself. Would take maybe ten seconds of conversation to clarify the situation.

He didn’t call, though. Because if it hadn’t been a mistake, if Frank had intended to hang up that quickly, without getting a chance to talk to Ezra or leave a message, then the afternoon was about to get interesting. Either Frank had been interrupted in his attempt to call—an option that prickled at the back of Ezra’s neck—or he’d made the call as a warning. One or the other. Or a mistake.

Ezra felt Frank would understand the effect of an aborted call like that, would anticipate the worry on Ezra’s end. That belief tilted the scales, ever so slightly, in the direction of trouble. No matter how gentle a shift that was, it was something he had to listen to. If you ignored it, the first chance you’d have to regret it wouldn’t come until too late.

He was alone on the porch. Vaughn and Renee were still inside, though he hadn’t heard much conversation from them. Vaughn had looked shifty, even angry, the last time Ezra was inside, but the woman seemed to have taken a measure of comfort now that some time had passed. She would listen to Ezra willingly, and Vaughn, if it came down to it, would listen to Ezra because he would be given no other choice. Ezra went to the door.

“You two got any rain gear?”

They were sitting together in the living room, Vaughn speaking to Renee in a harsh whisper, and when Ezra entered and spoke they both looked at him as if they didn’t understand the language.

“What?” Renee said.

“Rain gear? If not, don’t worry about it. I got a few of those emergency ponchos in the boat, if we need ’em. Chances are, we’re going to need ’em, too. Those clouds don’t look like kidders to me.”

Vaughn stood up. “What are you talking about? If it rains, we’ve got a roof over our heads.”

“Not anymore.” Ezra was turning down the blinds now, the sunlight disappearing from the room in strips. “We’re going on a boat ride, kids. And we’re going on it in a hurry.”

Now Renee was on her feet, too. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Vaughn said. “This guy’s crazy. What the hell are you talking about, boat rides?”

“Shut up,” Ezra said, and the argument died on Vaughn’s lips. There was still anger in his eyes, his forehead lined with dislike, but he quit talking. He was scared of Ezra, and that would make things easier.

“They’re coming, aren’t they,” Renee said, and there was neither question nor alarm in her voice. Just a calm, if disappointed, understanding.

“They could be,” Ezra said. “And I’ll tell you this—an island is a damn tricky place to sneak away from. So best to get off it early.”

“Where are we going?”

“Not quite sure about that one yet, but we’ll need a boat, and we’ll need to move fast.”

“I want my gun back,” Vaughn said. “If they’re coming for us, I want my damn gun.”

Ezra gave him a cool, even gaze until Vaughn looked away.

“When it comes time for shooting,” he said, “I’ll see that you got something to do it with.”

Three times the man with the gun instructed a turn. Those were the only three times the silence was broken. They’d gone maybe five miles, were well out of town and into the woods, before he told Frank to stop. They were at a ramshackle bar with CLOSED and FOR SALE signs in the windows, an ancient gas pump out front. Frank drove