“No!”
“—fucking handcuffs!”
The lights went out.
• • •
Dora Hamer approached the closed door to Scott’s bedroom. It seemed ominously silent in the house without his stereo system vibrating the walls. She knocked twice. “Scott, are you okay?”
He opened the door as though he’d been expecting her. “Fine, except for the electricity going out.”
“I think it went out all over town. I don’t see any lights in our neighbors’ windows. Are you warm enough in here?”
“I put on an extra sweater.”
“That may help for a while, but it’s not going to take long for the house to get cold. Until the power comes back on, we’ll have to rely on the fireplace for heat. Would you bring in some more wood from the garage, please?”
“Sure, Mom.”
“And get the lantern you and your dad take on camping trips. Do we have fuel for it?”
“I think so. I’ll check.”
He disappeared down the hall. Dora followed him part of the way before hastily retracing her footsteps back into his bedroom. The college application forms were scattered across his desk. She didn’t take the time to read them, but a glance showed her that he’d been working on them as Wes had mandated.
Quickly she moved to the nearest window and checked to see that the alarm system detector was intact. Two magnets, one on the window frame, the other on the jamb, formed a connection which, if broken, would trigger the alarm whenever it was set. The components were aligned as they should be. The same was true of the second window she checked.
Not wanting to be caught snooping, she paused to listen. She could hear Scott stacking logs in the open space in the rock wall of the living room fireplace. She heard him dusting off his hands as he headed back to the garage for another armload.
She went to the third window. Two magnets were making the required connection, all right. But the one on the window jamb was an ordinary magnet, a kid’s toy. It had been used to replace the missing connector and positioned so that no connection would be broken if the window was opened.
“Mom?”
When he called to her, Dora jumped as though she were the guilty party. She hurried from his bedroom, hoping she looked more composed than she felt when she joined him in the living room.
“Should I stack some wood up here on the hearth?” he asked.
“Good idea. It’ll save you the trouble of going for more later.”
“Okay. Want me to light the lantern?”
“Let’s reserve it for nighttime.”
“The kerosene can is practically full. I’ll leave it and the lantern in the kitchen.”
“Fine. I’ve got candles to use until dark. And there are plenty of batteries for flashlights.”
She followed him as far as the kitchen, where he disappeared through the door to the garage. She wanted to go after him, place her arms around him, and hug him close. Wes accused her of babying him. Well, so what? Scott was her baby. If she lived to see him become a very old man, he would still be her baby and she would want to protect him.
Something was going on with him, and whatever it was, it terrified her. “Worried sick” wasn’t merely a figure of speech. After the discovery she’d made in his bedroom, she was nauseated with worry.
He had rigged the alarm detector on his bedroom window not to go off when he sneaked out. What other explanation could there be for his tampering with it? How long had this been going on? Was she blind, deaf, and dumb not to have known that he was leaving the house?
It was by accident that she had com
e even to suspect it. She’d been delivering fresh laundry to his room this morning when she noticed his boots on the floor beside his bed.
They were waterproof, fleece lined, perfect footwear for a snowstorm. But Scott hadn’t been wearing them yesterday when he and Wes came home for dinner. Ostensibly, Scott hadn’t left the house since then.