On Tuesday morning, Hawk woke up with a throbbing headache, but he was glad that he’d gotten through the night without a repeat of that awful spider dream. He sat up on the side of the bed and took two Excedrin, acutely aware that the reality of the spider drone was much worse than the dream.
He glanced at the clock. It was ten minutes to seven. He showered and dressed and quietly left the house.
He drove into Foggy Ridge and bought a copy of the weekly newspaper from the machine in front of the post office. He got back in the Jeep and scanned the lead article about the sailboat races. Then he scanned each subsequent page. No missing persons reported. No sightings of a mysterious drone. It was as though it had never happened. Only it had. The awful headaches were proof enough for him, especially after Brody had filled in the blanks. But his sunglasses, shirt, and shorts with the red spatter were tangible proof.
As he put the newspaper on the passenger seat, he thought he saw someone duck behind the drop-off mailbox across the street. He froze, the beating of his heart almost audible. He looked up and down the sidewalk but didn’t see anyone. The only business open before nine a.m. this far off Main Street was the Sweet Butter Café half a block up the street.
“Hello?” Hawk said. “Who’s there? No point in hiding. I saw you.”
Hawk reached down on the floor, picked up the ball bat he’d never gotten around to putting away after the church softball game.
“Why are you following me?” Hawk said. “Show yourself. Let’s talk.”
Hawk hopped out of the Jeep and crouched down behind it. He could hardly breathe. Was he crazy? Whoever was hiding could have a gun. He was tempted to run up the street to the café but didn’t want to risk getting a bullet in his back.
“Tell me what you want!” he shouted. His words were met with silence.
Hawk cowered behind his Jeep for what seemed an eternity, the bizarre events of recent days bombarding his mind. Finally, his anger boiled over. He jumped up, let out a war whoop, and charged the mailbox with the ball bat ready to start swinging. He slowed as he reached the side of the mailbox and then stopped abruptly when he could see no one was hiding there.
He listened for the sound of feet pounding the pavement, all the while looking up and down the street. All was quiet except for the low hum of early morning traffic.
Feeling both foolish and furious, Hawk hurried back to his Jeep. He climbed in, started the motor, and pulled onto Sweet Butter Street. He was starting to act as paranoid as Brody.
He turned right onto Shelby and drove several blocks until he came to Main Street, still feeling the sting of having acted like an idiot. His cell phone rang just as the traffic light turned red. What could Dennis want this early?
“Hey, Dennis.”
“Something terrible’s happened! Brody tried to tell me, and I blew it off—”
“Slow down, man. What’s wrong?”
“Brody’s dead.”
“Dead? Good grief! What happened?”
“My uncle called and said that Brody spent the night with him and my aunt. He went to bed around ten o’clock, but slipped out the window in his room and went for a drive up the mountain. He misjudged a curve and went off the side of the road and down a steep embankment. A couple in an SUV must have come by right after it happened and noticed the twisted guardrail and a cloud of dust. They spotted his Mustang smashed headlong into a huge hardwood tree about a hundred feet below and called nine-one-one. It took a long time to get to him. My uncle called Brody’s cell phone, but he didn’t answer. When they finally got to his car and pulled it up, Brody was dead. Apparently it was horrific. The deputies wouldn’t let my uncle see him.”
Hawk’s heart was practically beating out of his chest. “So the authorities think it was an accident?”
“Yes, but I’m sure it wasn’t! I don’t know if the skid marks will prove anything, but in my gut, I know someone ran him off the road. I should go talk to the sheriff.”
Hawk’s mind raced with the implications. “Have you talked to anyone besides me about what Brody told you?”
“No. I told my aunt and uncle that Brody had been imagining things and acting more paranoid than usual, and that maybe he needed to see his shrink.”
“Hold on a minute.” The light turned green, and Hawk pulled into a convenience store and shut off the engine. “Dennis, you still there?”
“Yeah, man.”
“Don’t say another word on the phone. You remember where you were when you got up the nerve to finally ask Jillian to go out?”
“Of course I do. What does—”
“Meet me where we parked the car that night—as fast as you can get there. This is life-and-death serious. If you have to cancel appointments, do it. I’ll wait as long as it takes. Just say you’ll come.”
“All right. Let me make a few calls and I’ll leave.”
“Before you head this way, take the battery out of your cell phone. I’m going to go get prepaid cells the two of us can use to communicate.”
“Hawk, you’re creeping me out, man.”
“Hurry.”
Kate hung up the phone and let out a loud sigh.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” Elliot said.
“That was Connor. He wanted me to know that he’s going to fill in for Hawk this afternoon, and that he hopes Hawk’s headache gets better. Why didn’t Hawk tell me himself? And where is he? If his headache is that bad, he should be home in bed. I’m really worried about him.”
“We all are. I imagine he’s stressed to the max over his breakup with Laura Lynn, not to mention the load of guilt he’s carrying.”
“He doesn’t act that sorry to me,” Kate said.
“Why do you say that?” Elliot pushed aside the bowl of eggs he was whipping for omelets and wiped his hands. He went over to the kitchen table and sat facing Kate.
“I don’t know,” she said. “He acts cold and removed, almost like he’s annoyed with the rest of us for making such a big deal out of it.”
Elliot took her hands in his. “You know better than that. Hawk’s never going to let you see how he really feels. Speaking as a man, I can imagine what’s going on in his head. Anger. Shame. Remorse. Over and over again.”
“Anger for what?” Kate said. “Laura Lynn’s the one who should be angry.”
“Honey, Hawk’s mad at himself. He knows what he’s thrown away. He’s angry that he was weak and chose badly. And that he didn’t stop it in the beginning. That he lied to Laura Lynn—and to us. He’s angry that he ignored his conscience, that he failed—”
“Okay, okay. I get your point.” Kate let go of his hands and folded her arms on the table. “Elliot, why did you say that, speaking as a man, you can imagine what’s going on in his head? Do you think that, because I’m not a man, I can’t understand my son?”
“I think you understand Hawk better than anyone,” Elliot said. “But you can’t fully understand the temptations he faces, because you’re not a man.”
“Oh really?” Kate arched her eyebrows. “Enlighten me.” She was relieved that Elliot didn’t react to her sarcasm.
“It’s just that men are visual. Sexual temptation for us can start with what we see and escalate rather quickly. We’re just wired differently than women. That’s why it’s so important to keep our guard up. Hawk knew that because he kept his guard up with Laura Lynn.”
“Exactly. He knew how to keep his thoughts where they belonged,” Kate said.
“Yes, until he saw a gorgeous woman who was flirty and available. His libido might have gone from zero to over the top with that one conversation at the grocery store. After that, his mind got him in trouble—that’s where he made his choice—and he couldn’t stop thinking about her, and once he gave in, he probably justified his behavior until he couldn’t.”
“That seems like such a copout, Elliot. Women can be attracted to men without thinking about sex.”
“Of course they can. Most women are interested in affection, conversation, and a close relationship. Sex is often optional. Men are the exact opposite.”
“So you’re saying that men are looking for sex—and that affection, conversation, and a close relationship are optional?”
“If they’re operating in the flesh, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Look at King David. He was a man after God’s own heart. And yet he saw Bathsheba bathing and lusted with his eyes and had to have her. Then he wanted her all to himself and had her husband killed in battle. He silenced his conscience until God sent the prophet to convict him. After that, he was devastated over his sin and had great remorse. But the harm had already been done.”
Kate looked into Elliot’s eyes. “Do you have these temptations?”
“Sometimes. Temptation doesn’t ask our permission to put an image or a thought into our mind. But I’ve gotten really good at recognizing it for what it is and shutting it down immediately. As a Christian husband, I have no desire for any other woman, Kate. And I keep my guard up twenty-four seven. But I’m as vulnerable as any man.”
Kate sighed. “I don’t understand how a man can be tempted if he really loves his wife.”
Elliot leaned his head closer to hers. “Because, as I said, temptation doesn’t ask our permission to invade our thoughts. It can happen with a look, a touch, a picture. Honestly, with some of the fashion styles these days, temptation is everywhere we turn. But if our guard is up, we nip it right there.”
“But I’m never tempted to be with another man,” Kate said. “I can’t imagine it.”
“Because you’re happy in your marriage. A woman who is unhappy in her marriage is probably missing affection and intimacy. She could be tempted to cheat in order to get the affection and intimacy she desires. Or she might read X-rated romance novels or watch steamy movies or TV programs that draw her in vicariously. Without physically cheating, she is able to live out her fantasies through the characters. She’s no less aroused than a guy who’s entertaining the idea outright. Lust is lust. I don’t think God makes a distinction.”
Kate nodded. “I can see that.”
“All that to say, we shouldn’t judge Hawk too harshly. He’s already judged himself. He’s not the first man to be blinded by lust. King David went on to love and serve God. There were natural consequences to his actions that were very painful. I have every confidence that Hawk has been forgiven and will grow from this, but he can’t escape the consequences.”
“So you think he’s mad at himself, and that’s what I’m picking up?”
Elliot stroked her cheek. “I do. And I think a little tenderness from his mother will go a long way right now. He’s hurting more than you know.”
“You’re wise for a man who’s lived just three years past the half-century mark.” Kate’s smile was met with his warm lips, and she relished the moment. “I can’t believe how insensitive I’ve been. Poor Hawk. Here he was, pouring out the whole ugly, humiliating truth. And instead of at least telling him I’m grateful for a son who can’t live a lie, I punished him for it.”