“Say hello to your dad,” taunts Angus and I’m ready. I have the knife in my hand and I’m prepared to plunge it in his back between his shoulder blades. A dim memory haunts me, something I read in a textbook once about the technical difficulty involved in stabbing a human being. I’ll have to get through the man’s overcoat and his clothes and hope that the blade doesn’t bounce off a bone. I’ll only have one chance to inflict a crippling wound before he responds.
I raise the blade at the same instant I spot the half empty wine bottle. Ben must have set it down there, on the seat of a chair, perhaps just as he heard the knock on the door. It only takes a split second for me to drop the knife and seize the bottle instead.
“Was it seriously your plan to destroy the McGill brothers with a five dollar wine bottle?”
A foolish plan then.
Perhaps a foolish plan now.
I raise it high and realize that someone has finally noticed that I am here. The man beside the couch stares at me. There’s a gun in his right hand but he makes no move to raise the barrel. He simply watches. I don’t know why I have the feeling that he secretly approves of what I am about to do.
I swing with every grain of strength that I never knew I had and the bottle finds its intended target. With an explosion of glass the shock of the hit sends a painful jolt all the way up my arm and I fall to my knees.
In my next breath I hear the sweet sound of Ben gasping air into his lungs. He’s on his hands and knees but he’s breathing freely. The fallen man, Angus, has crumpled to the floor and I crawl across broken glass to get to Ben.
“Are you okay?” I wrap my arms around him, rejoicing in the solid feel of his warm body.
Ben breathes deeply and then looks around in a panic. Angus remains on the floor. Glass and wine litters the carpet around us. And the other man is still standing, still staring, still limply holding a gun in his hand.
Ben zeroes in on him and gets to his feet before ushering me behind him, spreading his arms wide and using his own body as a human shield. “Are you planning to become a murderer too, Grey?”
The man, Grey, stares at the prone figure on the floor. The gun in his hand disappears into his pocket. He sighs in defeat. “No, Bennet. I am not.”
Then he sinks down on the couch and drops his head into his hands.
In the distance a noise begins to grow; dozens of horns honking in unison as the people of Devil Valley ring in a new year.
And as the honking fades, another more urgent noise takes its place.
The wail of approaching police sirens.
Camden
Ben is pretty banged up but he refuses medical attention. He winces as he pulls a sweatshirt over his head and I can see from the discoloration on his ribs that he’ll be hurting in the days to come. But he’s whole and he’s safe and I clutch his hand as we sit on the couch together and tell the pair of officers sitting across from us what we know.
I know very little.
The men are Ben’s cousins. Grey and Angus Drexler. I thought that Angus might be dead but he isn’t. The blow knocked him out and possibly fractured his skull. He was taken away in a stretcher and his brother went with him.
The officers ask stern questions at first and their demeanor becomes less severe when it becomes clear that Angus was the instigator.
“Was there a reason he attacked you?” asks the officer on the left. His basic expression is a frown.
“Yes.” Ben coughs into his hand. His voice remains a little hoarse. Apparently being choked by a wooden table leg does that to a person. “Because I told him I knew what he had done.”
The officer waits for Ben to continue. He doesn’t.
I clear my throat and speak up. “Should we call lawyers or at least our parents?”
A female officer approaches and has a quiet word with the cop who was questioning us. He glances our way, nods and stands up.
“We’re going to take a trip down to the station.”
Ben is not happy. “Can Camden just go home? This shit doesn’t have anything to do with her.”
The cop is already shaking his head. “We need to speak to both of you. You can get your coats. It’s cold out.”
We are led to a waiting police cruiser and while I have faith that we didn’t do anything wrong, I’m nervous. Ben keeps his arm around me and I lay my cheek against his chest. I don’t know exactly what happened tonight. But I do know I would have been crushed beyond repair if anything had happened to him.
The police station is busy. We are each briefly questioned alone and then left to sit in the lobby as people come and go all around us. A pregnant female officer brings us sodas and a plate of cookies. We are told that our parents have been contacted.
Ben touches my knee. “Go home if they let you.”
“No. I don’t want to leave you.”
“Please, Camden. I can’t stand the thought of you being here.”
I don’t agree or refuse. We don’t say much else. There are plenty of serious questions blazing through my mind but the busy lobby of a police station is not the place to settle them.
Soon the original officer who questioned us approaches and speaks only to Ben. “They’re ready for you. This way.”
I don’t want to let go of Ben’s hand. “Can I come with him?”
“Afraid not.”
Ben kisses me gently and then lets go. My vision blurs with tears as I watch him disappear behind a door.
Moments later my dad shows up in a state of alarm but after he sees that I am unhurt he relaxes. He’s friendly with at least half the police force and he stands by the reception desk and speaks quietly to a pair of officers, one of them the woman who gave us the cookies. She gives me a sympathetic glance and then nods.
My dad shakes their hands in turn and the worry vanishes from his face. He walks my way and holds his hand out as if I’m a little girl. “Come on, sweetie. They said I could take you home. If they need you to come back in tomorrow they’ll call.”
“I don’t want to go home. Ben is still here.”
“Ben is safe. I’m sure he’ll call you when he can. He wouldn’t want you to sit here waiting all night.” My dad’s hand is still extended, waiting for me to take it. “Adela and Frankie are worried sick about you.”
I look at the closed door again. I know my father is right. Ben already told me not to stay. Whatever this crisis is, he’s doing his best to handle it. And he’ll tell me the details when he’s able to.
I slip my hand into my father’s and get to my feet. I allow him to lead me out of the police station as if I’m five years old. He opens the passenger door to his pickup truck and waits until I’m settled with the seat buckled before closing it. I watch him through the windshield as he walks around the front of the truck and rubs his tired eyes. But when he climbs in he gives me a smile of relief. This must be what it means to be a parent. Once you have the job it never ends, not really. You can be called upon any hour of any day and you’ll willingly rush to the aid of your child to do whatever is needed without complaint.
A police cruiser pulls up to the front of the station and the second it comes to a stop a woman jumps out. She’s wearing a short black party dress and even in the dim parking lot light I can see she’s been crying. An officer rushes to open the station door for her.