HAVEN BROKE THE stunned silence just before she and Beau pulled into the Decker driveway.
“You should come with me.”
“To New York?” Beau asked, as if the issue had never been broached.
Haven still couldn’t understand his reluctance. “Why not? You want to stay in Snope City and listen to that crap for the rest of your life? Come with me, or join the circus, or enlist in the damn Navy if that’s what you want. Just do
something
. They don’t want you here, and there’s no reason for you to stay.”
Beau’s jaw was set and his expression stoic. “I told you, Haven. I can’t just leave my dad. He needs me.”
“Why? The man isn’t missing
all
his limbs. You gotta live your own life.”
“We all have our crosses to bear,” he said.
“Sure, but there’s no point hauling one around just for sport. I know you find it hard to believe, but your presence isn’t necessary for your father’s survival. He needs to move on. Get a girlfriend. Cook himself dinner every once in a while. He can’t do all that if you treat him like a cripple.”
“Have you gone blind?” Beau lost his composure, and his voice inched toward a shout. “He
is
a cripple.”
“Look at my dress. Look at it!” Haven insisted. “A year ago he would never have loaned me one of your mama’s things. He probably would have shot us if he’d found us in that closet. Your dad is ready to move on, Beau.”
“Why do I have to listen to this? First I get accused of working with Satan to pervert Snope City, and now I hear that I’m ruining my dad’s life. All this tough love is starting to seem a little sadistic.”
“I think you’re scared.”
“I think you need to mind your own business,” Beau barked back.
“I think you’re using your dad as an excuse to do nothing with your life. And I don’t think that’s fair to him.”
“I think you need to shut the hell up, Haven.” Beau turned off the ignition and slid out of the driver’s seat. He started to stomp away and made it halfway to the porch before he returned and thrust his head through the truck’s open window. “You got a lot of nerve handing out advice left and right, Haven Moore. Just ’cause your life is a mess doesn’t mean mine is, too. Maybe you should figure out your own problems before you start trying to solve mine.”
“I’m not trying . . .” Haven began to argue, but Beau had already walked away.
“HOW COME Y’ALL are back so soon?” Ben Decker asked, emerging from his bedroom as Haven stepped inside the house. Before she could answer, they both turned to stare at Beau, who’d already changed out of his church clothes and was heading out the back door. “Where you going?” Ben called out to his son.
“For a walk.” Beau let the screen door slam behind him and vanished into the woods behind the farmhouse.
“Boy’s got a temper on him,” Ben muttered. “Something happen at church?”
“The usual. Got accused of being in league with the devil.”
Ben Decker shook his head. He was disappointed but not surprised. “I imagine that must be getting a little old by now. It’s a good thing you two won’t have to put up with that sort of thing much longer.”
Haven bit her lip, but she couldn’t keep the words from slipping out. “Mr. Decker, have you talked to Beau about college lately?”
Ben’s eyes narrowed. “What’s to talk about? He’s been planning to go to Vanderbilt since he was ten years old.”
“It’s not my place to say, but I think those plans may have changed.” As she headed toward the guest bedroom, Haven wished she’d never spoken.
Too nervous to risk running into Beau, Haven spent the next hour hiding in her room, packing and repacking her suitcase three times. As eager as she was to leave Imogene, Dr. Tidmore, and Snope City behind, she hated the thought of what she’d done to her only friend. She knew she would never have told Ben Decker about his son’s college plans if she had to stick around to deal with the consequences. Haven wanted what was best for Beau, and she had been certain she knew what that was. If Beau didn’t escape from Snope City, the town was sure to smother him. But Haven regretted betraying his confidence. She should have taken the time to look for a better solution.
HAVEN JUMPED AT the sound of wheels on gravel and looked out the bedroom window to see a truck pulling up near the tobacco shed. The doors opened and a girl stepped out. The hem of her old-fashioned dress brushed the ground as she walked.
Haven met Leah Frizzell on the front porch. The girl pointed at Haven’s outfit. “Looks like you’ve been to church this morning.”
“For all of ten minutes. Just long enough to hear that I’m responsible for Satan’s hold on Snope City.”
Leah’s laugh was short and harsh. “Those people down there wouldn’t know the devil if he came up and goosed ’em. Lord knows they keep looking for him in all the wrong places.”
“Well, they sure think they’ve found him this time,” Haven said. “Pretty much everyone in town thinks I tried to kill my grandmother and burn down her house.”
“I heard. I tried to come see you in the hospital after the fire, but they told me you weren’t allowed to have visitors.”
“Thanks for thinking of me,” Haven said. “I just wish I’d listened to your warning. I might have saved my family’s house.”
“Don’t worry about that. They’ll fix it soon enough,” Leah stated matter-of-factly, tucking a strand of lank red hair behind one ear. “Listen. You mind if we sit down for a minute? There’s something I want to tell you.”
“You didn’t have to drive out all this way if you wanted to talk to me.” Haven led Leah to a pair of wicker chairs Beau had found at a garage sale and fixed up for the porch. “You could have just used the phone.”
“I’d rather not,” the girl said. The wicker crunched when she sat. “You never know who might be eavesdropping.”
“Eavesdropping?” Haven laughed. “You really think someone’s listening in on my calls?”
“They’ve been watching you for years,” Leah said bluntly. “Why wouldn’t they be listening, too?”
Haven suddenly felt cold. “What do you mean?”
“When we were about nine years old, I saw you in the park one day. You’d come by yourself, and you were playing on the swings. There was a man taking pictures of you, and I knew he wasn’t your father. I pointed him out to Earl, and Earl went and chased him off. Then another time, I saw you in town. You were eating ice cream while you crossed the road, and you weren’t paying attention. You would’ve stepped right out in front of a truck, but a man grabbed your arm and pulled you back. It wasn’t the man with the camera, but it looked a lot like him. There were other times, too. There always seemed to be somebody watching you.”
“I don’t remember any of that,” Haven said. “Who were they? Why didn’t you warn me?”
“They weren‘t a danger to you then, but they are now. I gave prophecy this morning in church. Mamma did the interpreting. I know you’re not one of us, Haven, but you got to listen to what I’m going to tell you.” Leah paused as if searching for a way to continue. “You have to leave before they can stop you.”
“Don’t worry—I’m leaving soon,” Haven assured her. “I’m not going to ignore your advice again.”
“Good. But you have to be careful when you get where you’re going. It’ll be dangerous. There’s a man . . . I don’t know which name he uses,” Leah said. “But he knows who you are. And he’ll be looking for you. You’re going to have to take your faith with you, Haven. It’ll be your only protection.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Haven,” Leah said, “I know this is going to sound crazy. But I think the person who’s looking for you is evil. He’s . . .”
“Yeah?” prompted Haven.
“I think it could be the devil himself.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Haven flung her suitcase into the back of Ben Decker’s truck. It was early in the morning, and the sun was just rising over the mountains.
“Nine P.M. tomorrow,” a voice announced. “The Apollo Theater.”
“What?” Haven looked up to see Beau standing on the Deckers’ porch, dressed only in a pair of boxer shorts. She’d heard him arguing with his father the night before. Ben had demanded to know what had changed his son’s mind about Vanderbilt. Beau had refused to explain himself. The yelling had gone on and on until Haven heard Beau stomp down the hall, barricade himself in his bedroom, and turn his TV up to full volume.
“I saw it on television last night. There’s some stupid music awards show being held at the Apollo. Iain Morrow is supposed to be in the audience.” Beau spun around and headed into the house.
“Don’t go, Beau. . . .” Haven pleaded.
“Good luck in New York,” he told her without looking back.
“Beau, I’m sorry,” Haven pleaded. “I need your help. I can’t do this without you.”
“It’s too bad you didn’t think of that earlier or you might’ve kept your damn mouth shut.” He slammed the front door, leaving Haven in tears.
ON THEIR WAY to the train station in Johnson City, Haven and Ben Decker passed by the Snively house. Even in the cheerful morning sunlight, the place looked like a desolate ruin. Blue plastic tarps covered the roof, and the second-story windows were hidden behind plywood. The blazing azaleas, untouched by the fire, seemed cruelly out of place. Gazing out the truck’s window at her old house, Haven thought she saw a figure pass the picture window in Imogene’s sitting room.
“There’s somebody in there,” she told Ben.
“Probably insurance people,” he responded. “Don’t know who else would be up there. They’ve moved out all the furniture. There ain’t nothing in the house left to take.”
“I sure hope Imogene gets it all fixed,” Haven said.
“Oh, she will. It’ll be as good as new by the time you get back.”
If I ever come back,
Haven thought to herself as they reached the freeway entrance at the edge of town. There was nothing left for her in Snope City. Her future and fate lay in New York City, and for better or worse, she planned to find what was waiting for her.
When they reached the train station, Haven gave Ben Decker a long hug.
“Remember, you always got us if you need us,” he told her. “And don’t worry about Beau, either. I didn’t spend ten years in the Army learning how to be a nice guy. That boy’s in for a world of pain if he decides to live at home.”
They were interrupted by the announcement. Haven’s train was ready to board. She managed to choke back the tears until she was in her seat. They were still flowing when the train rolled out of the station and onto tracks that snaked through the mountains. Haven closed her eyes. As hard as it was to say goodbye to the Deckers, she had no interest in taking one last look at a town that had never wanted her in the first place.
PART TWO:
THE ONE WHO WAS WAITING
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The sun had set and the train car was dark. The shadowy landscape outside the window offered no clues as to her location. They were passing through a rundown town, and isolated streetlights illuminated odd scenes. Three teenagers dunking each other in an aboveground swimming pool in a seedy backyard. A barking pit bull straining at its flimsy chain. A little kid in a nightgown aiming a plastic pistol at the train that sped by less than twenty feet from her window.
Haven shuddered and rubbed the goose bumps that had sprouted on her arms. This world felt different, more dangerous than the one she had left. Snope City had been a cocoon—smothering but safe. She was beginning to sense that freedom came with a new set of perils. Yet she could still feel New York drawing her toward it. The pull of the city was stronger than it had ever been.
“Excuse me, sir,” Haven called out. The man with the Amtrak badge slowed long enough to grab the ticket stub from the seat in front of her. “Where are we?”
“New Jersey. Next stop Penn Station,” he replied, picking up speed as the words left his mouth and disappearing through the sliding door at the back of the car.
Haven stood up and looked to see if the bathroom was occupied. Its door was open, and the car was empty but for a man sitting three rows behind her. He wore a bland navy suit and sported a thirty-dollar haircut, and though his eyes were closed, Haven was certain that he wasn’t asleep. Haven slid back down into her seat and stared out the window. The buildings were smaller and closer together now. Streetlamps bathed the roads in pale yellow light. In the distance, she could see the first suggestions of a city rising into the sky.
OUTSIDE PENN STATION, the taxi line snaked around the block. A hot wind whipped through the streets, and the scent of ozone in the air told her a storm was on the way. The man from the train was behind her, seemingly oblivious to her presence as he tapped away at his BlackBerry. She kept one eye on him and felt for the cell phone in her pocket, wishing she could call Beau for advice. Just as the first fat drops of rain began to splatter the sidewalks, Haven reached the taxi dispatcher.
“Where you headed?” he asked without looking up. Behind her, the sound of typing paused.
“Twenty-eighth Street,” Haven whispered.
“Twenty-eighth Street?” the dispatcher repeated at top volume. “Here you go,” he said, thrusting a yellow sheet of paper at her. “Enjoy your time in the city.”
While the driver loaded her luggage into the trunk, Haven ducked into the taxi and slammed the door. Looking back at the crowd, she saw the man in the suit standing at the head of the line. He wasn’t pretending anymore. He stared straight at her.
“Where to?” asked the driver.
“The Windemere Hotel,” Haven murmured, hoping the man outside couldn’t read lips.
“Which way you wanna go?” the driver asked, leering at her in the rearview mirror.
Haven sensed it was a test and that the wrong answer would cost her an extra ten dollars. “Fifth Avenue to Twenty-eighth Street and take a left,” Haven heard herself say.