The lead, Robertson, was a tall, handsome Black man wearing dark-wash jeans and a subdued dark orange turtleneck (it was Sunday).
His partner, McGill, was white, had thick auburn hair, a lot of freckles, and was wearing khakis and a plaid button-down under his navy sweater.
I’d met them before, briefly. They’d both been in suits then.
Nevertheless, it wasn’t the first time I wondered why Bohannan had gone from the army to the FBI, and now had the appearance and wardrobe of a lumberjack biker.
I’d need to ask him about that.
It might be Sunday, but it wasn’t fun day. They were in their roles and their task today was important. There were greetings and oodles of courtesy and respect, with some gentleness for Celeste due to her age.
But they had things to do that day, and talking to us was only part of them, so it didn’t take long before Robertson stepped back, and McGill sat with us in the living area and launched in.
There was a brief lecture about how we were safe.
They had a tech person, who was currently not there, and I had not yet met, named Erin Reinhart who, among other duties, kept an eye on our whereabouts that pinged from our fobs. We were to continue to be sure to carry those at all times, as well as our Tasers. We were also to continue what we’d been doing, making sure more than one person knew where we were going, and when we were likely to return.
Onward from that, admirably without a smidge of blame detected in his tone, he said, “Be aware of all of your surroundings. When you enter a class. When you go down the aisle of the grocery store. As you walk to your car. Who’s around you? Are they paying attention to you? What kind of attention? Try not to be alone. This doesn’t mean you can’t do things by yourself, but such things as finding a parking spot among cars, not parking in the vacant ones at the edge of the lot, are good habits to get into. Take a second to look in the backseat. The passenger seat. Both before you unlock your car to get back in.”
He was in an armchair across from us.
Celeste and I sat next to each other on the couch across from him.
Robertson and Bohannan were on the other side of the room, by the dining room table that fed off the kitchen behind us. I heard them, in low tones, conferring.
McGill fished in the pocket of his khakis and pulled out a set of keys. “It’s good practice to walk to your car with your keys like this.”
He lifted his hand, tucked his car fob in his palm, and positioned the blade of a key between his index and middle finger.
“This is assurance, it isn’t your go to,” he said. “If someone approaches you aggressively, you make as much racket as you can, and by that, I mean shouting and screaming, and those don’t have to be words, but ‘help’ is a good way to go. Whatever you do, just make noise and run like hell to someplace that’s populated. But if you have to use it, that key will hurt a lot worse than a scratch or a punch or even a kick.”
When he got nods from us, he put the keys back in his pocket and kept speaking.
“You don’t carry Mace because Mace can go wrong. If not used correctly, it can get in your eyes and incapacitate you or be taken from you and used against you…” Pause then, a subtle reminder, “Like the Taser. But if you feel like you can use it and handle yourself, we’ll get you canisters that hook to your keychains, and you walk to your car with your finger on the trigger.”
He waited for us to nod again, so we did.
“The more experience we have behind a wheel, the more we become conditioned to accepting our surroundings. It becomes instinct to sense things you need to know to keep you safe when you’re driving, so you might not attentively check for them. I need you both to go back to basics. You get in your car, the first thing you do is lock your doors. Then check your mirrors. And keep checking them. Make note of cars behind you, but also any around you. If you see a red Jeep in the city lot by the Double D after you’ve had something to eat, had you seen it in the one behind the movie theater before you went in to see a movie? If you saw a blue Honda in front of you on your way to school, is it behind you on your way home? That kind of thing. If you notice patterns, or even if something spooks you, we don’t care. Tell us. We’ll check it out.”
He paused.
We both nodded again.
“Make note of license plates, even a couple of numbers or letters and the make of a car can help us. Light is your friend. We’d really like you not to be out by yourself at night, but if that’s ever the case, park under a light, keep to the lights. Don’t ever be in the—”
Both Celeste and I jerked on the couch because he was interrupted by a gunshot that came from nearby.
And then another one.
“Get down!” McGill shouted at us as he surged from his chair.
I sought purchase of whatever I could on Celeste, which was the back of her neck, and I took her to the floor with me.
We both ran into the coffee table.
Vaguely I registered that it hurt to slam my shoulder into it, but even as heavy as it was, it lurched away at our impact, and we scrunched together on our hands and knees.
There was urgent movement around us, then I saw Bohannan’s boots and looked up.
“Down!” he roared. “Bellies!” he went on.
We dropped to our stomachs, and since there wasn’t a lot of room, I was half covering Celeste’s body.
I still had my head up as Bohannan turned, caught a rifle Robertson tossed him, and then he motored toward the back of the house as McGill rolled out of the front, his sidearm in his hand, closely followed by Robertson, who also was holding his weapon at the ready.
I then ducked my head and pressed my face to the back of Celeste’s hair.
I was panting, Celeste was doing it with me, and we coasted on terror across what felt like decades.
I came back to the room realizing I had Celeste’s sweater in my grip. My knee hurt because I was pressing it into the floor, ready to use it to leap up and flee if whoever out there got to us, and equally ready to take her with me.
I heard nothing. I felt Celeste trembling against me. I then felt an intense blast of fury that subsided as quickly as it came.
And I chanced a glance up.
I was going to look back down when I saw nothing.
Except as I was thinking I’d seen nothing, I realized I saw something, and my head stayed up.
We had a direct view out the two French doors that led to a front porch that ran along the front of the cabin.
Doors that had a view to the lake.
Doors that had a view to my place.
And the view to my place showed me David was lying on my deck.
Not moving.
Fifty
Both My Girls
It was no consolation, the changes I saw at the sheriff’s department when they took us there.
Change one:
I noted a female deputy in uniform.
Change two:
I noticed two Black officers.
Change three:
When we were in what was now Harry’s office, the detritus of Dern’s tenure had been entirely cleared.
No standing coatrack covered in personal items like this was his home away from home.
The gunrack filled with assault rifles had been removed.
There was the desk. Two chairs in front. Both were new, attractive but utilitarian, and free of any Andy Griffith feel.