Dawn's Light (35 page)

“No, I didn't get the feeling that they were ignorant about an affair. It was more like they were shutting down. They sure weren't protecting Clay, so it had to be that they didn't want to implicate her.”

Deni looked at him. “Maybe it was a mistake to tell Ned that you thought she was involved.”

Doug drew in a deep breath. This was why he should stay at the hospital. He was too distracted to do good police work. Yes, he'd tipped Ned off, and if the guys at the plant had any affinity for the friendly, attention-seeking young woman, then Ned probably had signaled for them to shut up.

As they walked back through town toward the hospital, they passed Brad's office. The sign outside that said “City Prosecutor” beckoned him. “Let's go in and have a chat with Brad.”

They found Brad in his sweltering office, buried in files. He greeted them with hugs.

“How is Beth?”

“She's having seizures. That increases her chances of irreversible brain damage. And to make matters worse, they can't get the antiseizure medications she needs
or
the drugs to fight the swelling in her brain.”

Brad rubbed a rough brown hand over his face. “Man, I can't believe it. I wish there were something I could do.”

“There is.” Doug sat down across from his best friend. He got Deni to tell him what she and Mark had found. Brad listened attentively. When Deni was finished, he filled him in on the visit to the plant.

“They're hiding something, but there's not time to get to the bottom of it. If Melissa gets wind of our connecting her to Clay, she'll flee prosecution. We need to take her into custody now.”

He recognized the pain on Brad's face. “Doug, if she hurt Beth, I want her arrested too, but if she's guilty, I want it to stick. An affair is not enough.”

“But don't you see?” Deni said. “Her father may have killed Tharpe to protect his daughter.”

“But his confession says that he did it for vengeance, for what Clay had done to his son-in-law.”

“And you believe that?” Doug asked. “Brad, why would he do that? He could have waited and let justice do its work. Clay was in custody, and we had plenty of evidence. It makes more sense that Mr. Anthony knew his daughter was involved in her husband's killing. That he shot Clay Tharpe right in front of a judge because he thought Tharpe was about to talk. Think about it. He was going before the judge, about to speak. What better time to shoot him down and make sure she wasn't implicated?”

Brad just shook his head. “Everything you're saying might be right. But I have to prosecute it. A judge isn't going to send it to a Grand Jury even if you do prove she was having an affair. You have no proof that she hired Tharpe or told him to kill her husband. And I'm more inclined to believe that her father was the one who hired Tharpe. Think about it. Melissa's husband was beating her and the boy, right?”

“Right.”

“And the dad gets wind of it and decides to take care of it.”

Deni wasn't satisfied. “So what was his motivation for killing Tharpe? You don't
prove
you're a killer to keep somebody from
saying
you're a killer. He shot Clay in front of a judge for a very good reason. He smuggled a gun in past security, because he planned to shut Tharpe up. It clearly wasn't to save himself.”

“Deni, I'm with you,” Brad said. “But if we're gonna get Melissa, we have to have something more solid. Follow the money. See if you can prove she got any of it. See if you can find evidence that she and Tharpe met up after the murder. Give me something to work with, Doug, and I'll give you a warrant.” He rubbed his jaw, then set his elbows on his desk.

Brad was right, but Doug didn't like it. Maybe he could get Mark to trace her spending habits, to see if she'd bought anything bigger than what a FEMA disbursement would give her.

“And find somebody who can connect her with Beth. If we can prove she saw Beth watching her house, then our ground will be a little less shaky.”

Doug and Deni walked back to the hospital with a sense of hopelessness that anything would be done. Their only hope lay in Mark's desire to get Melissa Tomlin. If anyone could find that evidence, it would be him.

eighty-two

B
ECAUSE HER BROTHERS WERE GOING STIR-CRAZY SITTING
in the hospital waiting room, Deni's parents decided that the boys should start sleeping at home. It looked as if the Brannings might be in this vigil-keeping mode for a long time, so they had to find ways to create some normalcy for the family—if for no other reason than to keep their strength up. Deni was sent home to supervise this first night home.

Brad and Judith brought them supper, which Deni appreciated since they had so little food in the house. After dinner, she cleaned up with no help from her brothers. They'd vanished as soon as their bellies were full. Now the chickens needed to be fed, and the eggs gathered, and it was the boys' turn to work.

She went upstairs to tell them. Deni found Logan in Beth's room, sitting on her carpet next to Craig's suitcase, looking at the books in Beth's bookcase.

As she stood in Beth's doorway, Deni watched the melancholy look on her little brother's face. At ten years old, he'd always been a rival to Beth. The two behaved like normal siblings, complete with name-calling and tattling. But on his face she could see his deep love for their sister.

“Hey,” she said. “What are you doing?”

He glanced back at her. “Looking for something new to read to her.”

She went into the room and sat on the bed. Craig had made it up, but one of his belts lay on it. She picked it up.

“We really ought to move him out of here,” Logan said. “When she wakes up, she'll need her own bed.”

“I know,” she said. “With all that's been going on, nobody's had time to think about it. I'm sure he's looking for a place.”

“Get real,” Logan said. “He's not going anywhere until you marry him.”

Deni grunted. “He knows I'm not going to.”

“No, he doesn't. He's trying to make himself part of our family, and nobody even notices.” Logan's cheeks reddened. He was taking this personally. Clearly, he didn't want anyone sleeping in Beth's bed.

“I'll talk to him about moving out, Logan. But don't worry. When Beth comes home, she'll have her room back.”

He pulled out a book, opened it.

“Here's an old Dr. Seuss book that Mom used to read to us,” Logan said. “
Green Eggs and Ham.
Do you think she's too old for that?”

“You're never too old for Dr. Seuss. I think she'd love to hear you read it to her.”

He stared down at the cover. “Do you think it's like sleeping? Do you think she has dreams?”

Deni had wondered that herself. “I really can't say, but I think it probably is something like that.”

“I hope they're good dreams. I hope she doesn't just dream about that man.” Some unseen force pulled at the corners of his lips.

“I'll bet they're good dreams,” she whispered. “Maybe when we read to her she dreams about the stories.”

“That's what I was thinking,” Logan said, managing a weak smile. “It'd be cool to make her dream about Sam I Am.”

Jeff came to the door, wet with sweat. “I got water,” he said, “so we can all wash up. I also weeded the garden. It rained yesterday, so I didn't have to water it.”

Deni's jaw dropped. “Wow. I thought you were loafing in your room. I was coming to make you feed the chickens.”

“That's what you get for thinking.”

Deni smiled at her brother's familiar barb. It smacked of normalcy. She needed that.

“I took care of the chickens and got the eggs in. Jeremy and Drew are taking our turn feeding the rabbits.”

She should go down and cook some eggs to take to the hospital to her parents. Tomorrow, if it was sunny enough, she could make a few loaves of bread to cook in the solar oven. Jeff could get them out when they were done. They could make enough loaves to eat for days.

But right now, she felt numb, useless, lethargic. She didn't want to do anything.

“Let's just all rest now. We've had a rough few days. No more chores to—”

Suddenly the lights overhead flickered.

Logan caught his breath and looked up. “Did you
see
that?”

Deni stared at the light bulb. Could it really be … were the lights coming back on?

They all froze, wide-eyed, waiting … The bulbs flickered again. All three of them let out a yell and came off the floor.

“The lights are on! The lights are on!”

They stared at the lightbulb as if it were a new invention. For a moment it would dim, then it would brighten. They ran from room to room, flicked on every light switch, saw the same thing. Their electricity was back on!

“Whoa!” Jeff yelled. “Is Craig the man or what?”

Craig had done as much as anyone toward getting their power back on. If he hadn't convinced the recovery team to set up their offices in Crockett, they might have been the last place instead of the first. It gave her hope that maybe he could also convince someone to give them the things Beth needed.

Suddenly Deni's lethargy lifted, and she had new energy.

Life seemed to be turning a corner.

eighty-three

N
EWS THAT THE LIGHTS HAD COME ON GAVE
K
AY A NEW
sense of hope, as if the crises in her life might be coming to an end. It sent the hospital staff into a frenzy of activity. They ran from patient to patient, preparing them for the moment when they would transition the hospital from the hardened gas-powered generators to the power grid. Kay prayed there wouldn't be an interruption in the power, making the ventilator go off. If it did, they said, it would only be a few seconds.

She held her breath as the lights went off. The hum of the equipment in the ICU hushed. The ventilator powered off. Kay touched Beth's chest, praying it wouldn't be long. She held her breath with Beth, counting off the seconds. As more time passed, she felt as if her lungs would explode. She needed to let it out. Beth hadn't had the benefit of taking a big breath. Was she smothering?

“Come on …” Doug muttered.

It was too long. She had to breathe! Kay expelled her breath and gasped for another. Panic shot through her. Maybe they should pull out her tube and do mouth to mouth. “Hurry, people!” she shouted, though she knew the electricians were outside. But as dark silence stretched into a hellish eternity, she heard the hissing of a breath.

Beth's chest fell as she breathed out through the tube.

“Doug, she's breathing! On her own!”

Doug bent and put his ear to her mouth. “She is. It's a miracle!”

Kay came around the bed to hug him, and he took her in his arms. “She's breathing!” she sang.

“She's gonna wake up, Kay. I know it.”

It wasn't until an hour later, after Dr. Overton ordered staff to pull the breathing tube out of Beth's throat and watched to make sure Beth could breathe without struggling, that Kay felt the full import of the restoration of electrical power.

They'd hardly noticed, they were so focused on Beth. The event they'd waited for for the past year had been relegated to an afterthought.

But now that Beth was breathing on her own, Kay basked in the light of that bulb over her head. She wondered if her children realized the power was back on. Surely they'd left a few light switches on, all those months ago. “I wish I could see the kids' faces,” she told Doug.

“Go home and give them the good news about Beth. I'll stay here.”

Kay hadn't left the hospital at all except to go to the jail. Now that Beth had improved, maybe she could stand to be away.

Kay's spirits soared. Now that they had electricity, they could rebuild things for which they had critical needs—MRIs, CT scanners, PET scanners. Drug companies could get back up and running. Medicines would be more available.

Beth would live.

She bent over the bed and stroked Beth's hair. “The lights are back on, sweetie. Things are going to get back to normal.” Beth gave no sign that she heard—but her rhythmic breathing spoke volumes. Gently, Kay pressed her forehead against her daughter's. “I love you, honey. Wake up soon. I don't want you to miss it.”

She kissed Doug, then went out and found the bike Mark had brought for her—among the tangle of bikes lined up on the rack. Then she rode home, anxious to see the thrill on her children's faces.

eighty-four

M
ARK WAS SURPRISED TO SEE
D
OUG AT THE SHERIFF'S
department the day after the lights came back on, dressed in his uniform as though he expected to put in a full day's work.

Two of the other deputies greeted him and asked about Beth when he came in. Mark waited until the commotion had died down. When Doug crossed the room, Mark said, “Man, you don't seriously think you're gonna work today. Go back to the hospital.”

It was good to see him smile. “I just came by to see the sheriff's department all lit up. I'm not sure I've ever seen this place well lit.” He looked around. “Paint looks terrible. Look at the cobwebs in the corners. Never saw those before.”

“You didn't need full uniform to come by and see that. What's really up?”

Doug's smile faded, and his eyes took on that intensity he'd worn for so many days. “I want to talk to Melissa Tomlin's father. He hasn't been moved to the county jail yet, has he?”

“No, he's still here. So far he's sticking to his story that he was just angry at his son-in-law's killer. But maybe talking to you would shake him up a bit.”

While Doug waited in the kitchen, Mark went to get Scott Anthony out of his cell. With the lights on, the cell area was much more pleasant than it had been yesterday. The prisoners had been quieter since the lights came back on. Having been incarcerated himself, Mark knew that the fear factor had decreased. There were few things worse than being crowded into a cell with killers and thieves when it was so dark that you couldn't see your hand in front of your face. Darkness seemed to breed more evil.

He found Scott Anthony sitting on his bunk, reading the Gideon Bible he'd been given when he was booked. Mark wished the man had read more of it before he decided to commit murder. Still, he almost felt sorry for him, since he seemed so out of place here. Wheaton had clearly had the same sentiment, since he'd assigned Anthony to a cell by himself.