Keeper of the Light

Alec laughed. “Not anymore. She cut off her hair and dyed it black.” He stepped into a room off the living room. “Come in here,” he said.

Paul walked into a small den. A computer rested on the desk facing the front window, and a broad work table like the one at Annie’s studio took up half the opposite wall. The walls were covered with photographs, most of them family shots, taken on the pier, on the deck of the house, on the beach. Annie looked happy in every one of them without exception, the core of her family, and Paul felt a sudden self-loathing for trying to hurt that, for playing to her weakness.

He stared at a picture of Annie’s children. Lacey and Clay. “She cut off that beautiful hair?” he asked, shaking his head.

“’Fraid so.”

Paul moved to another picture and this one gave him a start. A tanned white-haired man in tennis clothes standing next to a homely red-headed woman. “And who are these people?” he asked, although he already knew the answer.

The phone on the desk rang. “Annie’s parents,” Alec answered, as he picked up the receiver. He said a few words into the phone and Paul began to feel intrusive. He waved to Alec and mouthed the word thanks as he headed toward the door of the den, but Alec held up a hand to stop him.

“Wait a sec,” he said, and then into the phone, “I’m leaving now.” He hung up the phone and looked at Paul. “Are you squeamish?”

“Uh…no. I don’t think so.”

“Come with me, then.” Alec picked up a set of keys from the top of his desk and started toward the door. “One of the wild horses was hit by a car near Kiss River. We might be able to use your help.”

Paul followed him outside. They stopped in the garage, where Alec unlocked a cabinet and removed what looked like a tool chest and what was most definitely a shotgun.

Paul stared at the gun. “Are you going to… Do you think you’ll have to shoot it?”

Alec looked at him, puzzled, before breaking into a smile. “With a tranquilizer dart,” he said. “I’d use an injection if the horse needs to be put down, and that will most likely be the case, if it’s not dead already by the time we get there. I haven’t seen one of them survive a run-in with a car yet.”

Paul got into the Bronco, next to Alec and the gun. “Annie told me the horses stay close to the road now that it’s more developed around Kiss River,” he said.

Alec backed the Bronco out into the street. “They think the grass has been planted just for them.” He shook his head. “There are only ten horses left. Maybe nine, after tonight. We’ve plastered the road with warning signs, but some people still get behind the wheel with their brains in neutral.”

They were quiet as they drove out of Southern Shores. What would Annie think if she could see this scene, Paul wondered, he and Alec cruising up to Kiss River like old buddies, a shotgun resting on the seat between them?

“You were starting to tell me about Annie’s parents,” Paul said.

“Oh, right.” Alec turned on the air conditioner. Nightfall had done nothing to ease the heat of the day. “Her dad’s dead now, but her mother still lives in Boston, where Annie grew up. I don’t know why I have that picture of them hanging in the den. Annie insisted we put it up, but as far as I’m concerned we could have dropped it in the sound.”

Even in the darkness, Paul could see the tension in Alec’s jaw. “She mentioned that she came from a very wealthy family,” he prompted.

Alec glanced over at him. “She said that?” He shook his head. “They had money, all right, but Annie never saw a dime of it once we were married. They cut her off.”

Paul was beginning to perspire. He turned one of the air conditioning vents toward his face. “Why would they do that?” he asked.

“My parents owned a little Irish pub in Arlington—not much of a moneymaking enterprise—and I guess the son of a bartender wasn’t good enough for their blue-blooded daughter.” Alec’s tone was quiet, confidential, and Paul could feel his hurt. “They said I was white trash.”

Paul turned his head to the window. Annie had not married Alec to please her parents. She had left Paul for a man who was no more to their liking than he had been.

“There’s the Kiss River Light,” Alec said.

Paul looked ahead of them into the black night, and in a few seconds he saw it, too. One, one- hundred… So familiar. So constant. So… “Oh my God,” he said.

“What?”

“What will happen to the light while they’re in the process of moving it?”

Alec smiled. “I’ve thought of that myself. Doesn’t feel too good, does it?” He turned the Bronco onto the narrow road leading out to Kiss River, and leaned forward, peering into the darkness. “There they are,” he said.

Paul spotted two women on the side of the road, waving them over with their flashlights. Alec pulled the Bronco onto the sandy shoulder. He handed the shotgun to Paul, and they got out of the car, Alec carrying the tool chest and flashlight.

The women walked over to them.

“It’s one of the colts, Alec,” the taller woman said. “He was on the ground when we called you. He’s up now, but he’s limping badly.” She pointed into the wooded area at the side of the road and Paul could make out the dark silhouette of a young horse.

Alec set the tool chest down and put his hands on his hips, assessing the situation. “Where’s the herd?” he asked.

“Across the street.” The taller woman looked at Paul. “I’m Julie,” she said.