11:30 p.m. Sunday, December 31
The living room of the Cousins’ house on Upland Road was quiet except for the drone from the television and the flicker of shadows it cast upon the plain white walls. Biting his fingernails, Kolt sat on the sofa in the front room and waited for his father. Jayden had fallen into a fitful sleep in his small bedroom after Kolt gave him a beer with the last blue-and-white pill from the prescription his sister had discarded nearly a year ago.
A car door slammed outside and Kolt bolted upright. Is that Papa or is Mr. Renshaw back? The sound of footsteps shuffled onto the porch, followed by a key sliding into the lock. Kolt leapt off the sofa and raced for the door. Yanking it open, he jerked the keys out of his father’s hand.
“What took you so long?” Kolt demanded, banging the door wide open. His startled father entered the house while his stepmother crowded in behind carrying two plastic grocery bags.
“Stopped in to pick up more beer for the celebration,” Cecil said with a weary patience.
“That was two hours ago!”
“Don’t take that tone with your papa,” Faye warned. Her brief irritation evaporated into a smile as she lifted one of the bags and added, “Got you some more chips.”
“What’s got you so whirly boy? And what happened to our fence out front?”
Faye stepped past the two men and walked through the living room.
“I gotta tell ya something—private like,” Kolt said watching Faye disappear into the kitchen.
“This family’s got no secrets ‘tween us, so say your piece,” Cecil said, retrieving his keys and closing the front door against the bitter cold.
Kolt drew a deep breath. “Last week Lina made me drive a car down-below, clear to Mount Vernon. Says it was a favor for a friend, so I didn’t think nothing ‘bout it.”
“Taking care of family’s what you was taught, boy.”
“Yeah, but since when’s she got friends? And the car was holed up behind her trailer. Now Mr. Renshaw busted in here two hours ago mad as hell and—”
“Watch your language.”
“—and says Lina was out at his place. Something ‘bout Chad attacking her. Don’t sound right, not like Chad. Then there was a missing dog. I didn’t get it all, but—”
The refrigerator door opened and closed in the kitchen.
“Slow ’er down, boy. Just give me the piece about Angel.”
“Sis is down at the Renshaws’ cabin again. Sounded like someone jumped her, but I ain’t sure if she been hurt or if she the one doing the hurting—again.”
Cecil shook his head and a deep growl rose from his chest. His aging eyes filled with disappointment and he darted a look behind Kolt, before fixing his son with a hard stare.
“Ain’t no good coming from Lina being out there on New Year’s Eve,” Kolt continued, gripping the front of his stained t-shirt and twisting it into a nervous wad that exposed the flabby bulge of his pale belly. “It’s… it’s just like before.”
“She promised,” Cecil scowled. Like an old basset hound, the puffy bags under his watery red eyes drooped and his thin bristling eyebrows drew together.
“We gonna help her, Papa? After all she’s family.”
“No!” Faye barked from behind, surprising Kolt. “Your family’s right here and that girl’s got no part of it now. She made her bed, now she gonna lay in it. And you two best be making up your own—like you should a done years ago.” Faye folded one arm across her chest and held a cigarette to her lips before exhaling a thick cloud of bitter smoke.
“‘Less, of course, you want me calling the sheriff,” she said slowly. “He might like knowing where to find Holly—even if that deputy don’t.”
Kolt turned pale, but it was when Cecil winced that Faye smiled in triumph.