“I have to go out,” Rachel’s father said.
“Why? What’s happened?” However emboldened Rachel had been in her bedroom, however defiant and capable she’d felt, and knew she was, her father’s news that he had to leave the house knocked the breath out of her.
“I have to meet Detective Test,” he said.
What? Rachel thought. Had Test already betrayed her confidence, turned around and called her father? “I can’t believe she would—”
“Chief Barrons called and asked me to go out to a call. I told him absolutely not. He pressed. Said he’d send Officer Larkin to park outside, lights flashing, for as long as I was gone. Larkin should be here any minute.”
Rachel sighed, relieved Test had not violated her privacy. “It has to do with him? Preacher?”
“I don’t know. I hope so. We need to catch him breaking parole, put him away, so you’re safe.”
“What’s the call about? What’s he done?”
“A woman’s worried about her mom being late, worried she’s in trouble.” He looked toward the window as headlights lit the darkness outside. “Larkin’s here. But lock up anyway. Keep all the lights on. You’ve got Felix.”
Rachel saw her opportunity to speak her mind. Her father needed to do what he needed to do, even if it left him conflicted. Rachel did too.
“I’m not staying here. This isn’t my home. Campus is,” she said, proud to speak it but saddened to see pain shadow her father’s face. “With Felix. We’ll get a motel tonight, find a different apartment, but I’m safer on campus, with all my friends around.”
“No. I—”
“You can’t be around twenty-four seven. Obviously.”
Her father winced.
“I didn’t mean that,” Rachel said. “Not like that. You need to go out. I want you to go, especially if it’s about him. On campus I’ll be around people all the time. Friends, students, teachers, Felix. I didn’t want to come here. I don’t want to be here.” The more she spoke, the deeper she cut her father. She knew, because she was cutting herself, too.
“I’m sorry you’re scared and hurt, and—”
“I’m not scared, or hurt. I’m furious. I want to fucking kill him.”
“You let me handle that.” He tried a laugh, but it faltered. “How about this? I’ll help you and Felix find a new place. First thing. But you stay here tonight. Doors locked. Lights on. Officer Larkin outside. Please, give your dad peace of mind. You can watch movies with my shotgun across your lap.” Again, his laugh, forced and desperate. “Drink hot chocolate. Relax. Felix can stay in your room.” His face reddened. “Try to get a good night’s sleep you’d never get in a motel. You can’t operate from rage.”
“Why not? You do.”
“I don’t work from rage.”
“Anger drives you. At least when you’re after anyone who hurts other people.”
“That’s different. After I found your mom and dad like that—”
“You found them?” Rachel had not known this. And, selfishly, since finding out about her parents’ murders, she’d thought of them only as her parents. Her mother. Her father. Her loss. Except, her mother was his sister. His only sibling. His loss. He’d known her all his life until she’d been murdered. Rachel had never known her parents at all. They remained abstract figures to which she could not connect emotionally, as much as she willed it. “I didn’t know,” she said.
“I didn’t want you to know.” He exhaled a long breath. “Let me help you find you a new place. But, please. Stay here until then. Give me peace of mind. Besides, this fog. No one wants to be out in that mess unless they absolutely have to be. I’ll find you a room or—”
“OK. OK. I’ll stay,” Rachel said.
“Follow me and lock up?”
At the kitchen doorway, Rachel hugged her father and wanted to tell him to keep safe, but he slipped out the door before she could say it.
She locked up and stood at the kitchen door window and watched her father get in his old heap.
As soon as the Scout disappeared into the fog, she wanted him back.