Sudden Independents

Hunter drifted in painful unconsciousness, buffeted by the wave of exhaustion from the previous day. He noticed as he slept how uncomfortable his bed felt, and also the constant nudging. In his mind he knew it couldn’t be Molly—she’d gotten the boot. So who was messing with his sleep now? And why were his ribs hurting so bad?

He cracked open his eyes to darkness. His breath rose like clouds in the cold air.

And who the hell didn’t realize that it’s still nighttime? And why couldn’t he move his arms and legs?

The nudging rocked into him again. Hunter grunted. “What?”

Scout whispered close behind him, “Finally, you’re awake.”

“Are you spooning me?”

“Would you rather freeze to death?”

“Is that a trick question?” Hunter wormed an inch away, but the pain from the recent kick Jolanda laid into him halted his progress. “How long was I out?”

“Maybe three hours; four hours at most. Jolanda took off a while ago to meet with that Chase kid. Are you ready to bust out of here?”

Hunter peered around the barren room where he lay, securely bound. His vision adjusted, assisted by what little light filtered through the chalky window. He shivered from the freezing temperature, but would never admit to Scout that spooning had probably been a good thing.

“Aren’t we guarded?”

“Not now. Jolanda told the others to take shifts watching us, but they blew her off the second she walked. It’s been all snores ever since.”

“Then I guess all we have to do is magic our way out of here.” Hunter closed his eyes. The cold was unbearable. He gritted his teeth and wormed back against Scout’s warm body.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m freezing.”

“Look, I’m going to spin around. I need you to grab the knife strapped to my left ankle.”

Hunter frisked Scout’s ankle, found the knife and unsheathed the one-inch blade. He manipulated the knife, cutting the rope binding his wrists and then his ankles. The keen edge sliced through the braided rope as though it were a biscuit.

“Okay, I’m out. Meet you back home.”

“Just cut me loose. Jolanda could be back any time now.”

“Better not call her that, little Davey,” Hunter said. Smiling in the darkness, he severed Scout’s bonds. “She has one hell of a boot.”

“Next time I won’t be tied down. Now give me the knife.”

Hunter handed over the shiny blade. “You keep that thing sharp.”

Scout slipped the knife back in the sheath around his ankle. “What’s my motto?”

“Never Bathe?”

“Be Prepared. Let’s go. I hope I can find my backpack.”

“Screw that. We need to find our bikes. I’ll scrounge you up a new backpack when we get home.”

“All my stuff is in my backpack. I can’t leave without my stuff, and my book.” Scout’s voice rose in agitation. “I have to get my Boy Scout Handbook back. It’s the only copy I’ve been able to find.”

“All right,” Hunter whispered. “We’ll find it. Keep your voice down.”

Scout crammed the rope into his pockets. He opened the door slowly and Hunter followed.

Hunter reached out for the smooth walls of the hallway to make sure he hadn’t just plunged into a murky cave. He bumped into Scout, but neither of them fussed about it. Hunter’s night vision finally readjusted itself.

They tiptoed into a larger room where musty smells, like neglected piles of wet laundry, attacked their noses; Hunter fought the urge to sneeze. Snores from the sofas indicated potential danger should the noise suddenly cease. Scout inspected the room while Hunter made his way across to another one. Their bags and stuff sat on the kitchen table.

Hunter waved Scout over. Scout smiled, grabbed his backpack and promptly unzipped it, making an inventory check. He scooped out his Boy Scout Handbook, kissed it, and returned it inside along with the rope from his pockets. Hunter motioned his head towards the way out and they escaped into the night with the cold air biting at their cheeks, ears and hands.

The motorbikes were lined in front of the pickup. Hunter inspected the other bikes and instantly fell in love with an orange and black KTM. He ran his hands all over the fuel tank and the padded seat like it was their fourth date. The KTM was big and badass and Hunter wanted it. He saw no problem making the switch. As many times as he laid his Kawasaki down, the bike was probably too hazardous to ride anyways.

“Want a new bike?” he asked Scout.

“Are you kidding? I would never give up my Suzuki. The bike doesn’t make the rider, Hunter.”

“Whatever.” Hunter retrieved his own knife out of his bag and got busy slicing the wires and hoses on all the other bikes and under the hood of the pickup.

They rolled their bikes a hundred yards before kick starting them up and smiled at each other, happy to hear the sound of that roar and to be on their way. Hunter absolutely loved his new bike; he knew getting acquainted with the size would require some serious practice, but didn’t mind at all. Riding the KTM was like riding a beast determined to keep its monstrosity hidden in case it scared the townsfolk. Now Hunter could leave Scout’s sorry-ass Suzuki in the dust from third gear.

They quickly found the familiar dirt road leading to Independents and settled into a relaxed cruise. They left their headlights off, searching the darkness for signs of Jolanda. Soon the single light from another bike bounced towards them and they stopped, waiting patiently to ambush her on the other side of a small rise in the road.

“Get ready with the lights,” Hunter said. Scout nodded grimfaced. Their fingers hovered over the switches.

The light of the oncoming bike swept down on them and they flared their own lights in return, washing over Jolanda on a red Honda. She wobbled with her concentration broken and Hunter smiled because he guessed right—Jolanda was not an accomplished rider. She traveled off-road, miscalculating the sudden change in terrain and fell off the bike. The Honda rolled another ten yards without her and crashed.

Hunter steered over to where Jolanda lay sprawled on the grassy ground. He silenced his engine and laughed. Scout rode up beside him, cutting his engine also, but without sharing in the laughter.

“Hey, Scout, do you know this chick from somewhere?”

“I thought I did,” Scout said, ignoring the humor.

“So how did your little meeting go?” Hunter asked her. “Does Chase have the place mapped out yet? Did he find the hidden treasure chest?”

“No, but the way I hear it, you boys are going to have a nice little homecoming when you get back. Apparently somebody’s girlfriend is unhappy.”

Hunter looked at Scout and they both groaned. The images of the various scenarios that Molly was capable of flittered through Hunter’s mind. The one good thing—he was still alive, so whatever she did couldn’t be that bad.

“I hope she didn’t touch my stuff,” Scout said.

“Oh, she touched it,” Jolanda said. “Wait and see.”

“Whatever,” Scout said. “How ’bout you tell us what your crew has planned and maybe I won’t drag you back to town behind my bike, Jolanda.”

Jolanda sprang from the grass like a lipstick crazed Tasmanian she-devil, knocking Scout from his bike and raking her fingernails across his face.

Her scream filled the surrounding prairie. “My name is Raven!”

Scout grabbed her arms, holding her tight until she bit his wrist and then head-butted him between the eyes. Wrestling with her on the ground, he defended himself from a flurry of punches and kicks.

“Hit her back!” Hunter yelled from his bike. “She’s beating the crap out of you.”

“She’s a girl! Come get her off me!”

Hunter dropped his kickstand and struggled swinging his leg over and off the big bike. He glided up to where the scuffle was rolling around in full swing. “Hey, Jolanda!”

Full of rage, Jolanda tilted her face toward Hunter, who popped her in the nose. When she staggered but didn’t fall, he followed with a punch to the jaw that sent her to the ground.

Scout looked up with blood seeping from three separate claw marks, his displeasure with Hunter’s actions clearly evident.

Hunter shrugged. “Chivalry died with our parents, dude. Besides, she was kicking your ass.”

“Still, hitting a girl isn’t right.” Scout retrieved the rope from his backpack as Jolanda rolled on the ground, holding her face and groaning. Before she could recover, he tied her hands and feet with the most elaborate knots Hunter had ever witnessed.

“I would agree to that, most of the time,” Hunter said. “But I think Jolanda would appreciate the equality of the situation.”

“My name is Raven,” Jolanda mumbled angrily. She sounded like she had cotton balls stuffed up her nose.

“Shut up,” the boys said together.

“Let’s take her back to Jimmy and figure a way out of this mess,” Scout said.

“Chase’s going to think they still have us captured.”

“Won’t he be surprised?”

Hunter helped Scout load Jolanda onto the Suzuki. They explained to her what would happen if she jacked around on the ride back to Independents. When she hawked a loogie at them, they decided to tie her more securely to the bike using more rope and duct tape from Scout’s well-stocked supplies, restricting all of her movements and eliminating the danger.

Then Hunter gagged her with a red bandanna from his own bag to keep her quiet. He patted her on the head. “Nice, Jolanda.”

“I don’t like this,” Scout said.

“Yeah, me neither.” Hunter smiled. “Let’s go.”





Jimmy’s hands were still shaking. He shoved them deep into his pockets, not wanting to alarm Ginger. Maybe she’d think he was just cold. The shaking started the moment he saw the fire and thought his brother might be inside, burning to death. Ginger’s arm around his waist gave him a level of comfort he was not used too. It was nice.

Mark shuffled out of the sheriff’s office on Main Street, looking like he might start bawling any second. Locking up your sister will do that.

The smell of the house fire from three streets away permeated the night air. Luckily the houses in Independents were built on such large lots that the fear of the fire spreading throughout the town was nonexistent. Still, the kids in the volunteer fire department cranked up the old fire truck and brought it over for safety and practice. They doused the flames, but the smoldering continued.

In a funny way, the smell of smoke reminded Jimmy of family campouts and his knees rattled with tremors. Everyone in Independents suffered from losses. When the parents died along with all the other grownups, losses became the acceptable norm. But when Jimmy thought he’d lost his little brother, it was all he could do to keep from rushing inside that blazing inferno to make certain Hunter wasn’t in there.

“Did Vanessa go home?” Mark spoke the way people did late at night while telling stories around a campfire, his voice distant and eerie.

“Yeah,” Jimmy said. “She left to give the babysitter a break. Sounds like you two have been tied up all day with the group from Iowa.”

Mark shook his head wearily. “Damn! I forgot about them. Molly picked a great time to lose her freaking mind. I wonder what they’re thinking.”

Jimmy shrugged. “I could care less right now. Hunter and Scout haven’t returned yet. Something’s wrong and I’m betting Chase from Iowa is somehow responsible.”

“You want me to watch the house they’re staying in?”

“No, I’ll have Samuel do it. You go home to Vanessa. She probably needs you right now.” Jimmy didn’t bother to say Mark probably needed her just as much. He shivered as the cold wind picked up, but he felt warmth radiating from Ginger and pulled her closer.

“Did Molly say anything?”

Eyeing Ginger and Jimmy, Mark paused with a slight smile, as though something just occurred to him. “No, she didn’t.” His smile vanished. “She fell on the cot and faced the wall. I tried asking her why she did it, but she ignored me. I don’t know what to do, Jimmy. I mean, I’m the sheriff and all, but she’s my sister.”

“I know it’s tough right now, but we’ll figure something out tomorrow.”

Mark shook his head again. “I don’t understand how Molly could set a house on fire. Something must have happened for her to go off like that; something with your brother.”

“I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Jimmy said.

Mark folded his arms over his chest. “I didn’t like it when they started seeing each other. It all happened too quickly.”

“I didn’t encourage it. Hunter doesn’t listen to me anyways.”

“Molly doesn’t listen to me either, but I never expected her to cause trouble like this.”

Jimmy shared a glance with Ginger. He was hardly surprised by Molly’s actions and figured Ginger was even less amazed by what her co-worker had done.

“We’ll help her somehow,” he said. “I’m sure it’ll all work out.”

Ginger nodded. “She can be tough sometimes, but together we’ll figure out the best way to help her.”

“Thanks,” Mark said. “I know Molly can be a serious pain. I’m sure she’s even worse to work with. I haven’t been around for her a lot lately.”

“We do what we can,” Jimmy said.

Mark’s slight smile returned. “So when’s the official announcement?”

“What announcement?”

“You two. I’d ask Jimmy if it was serious, but he’s always serious, isn’t he?”

“Pretty much,” Ginger said. Jimmy mocked wounded pride and pulled away from her, but she held onto him tightly. “That’s why I like him,” she added.

“Just like?” Mark asked.

A smile grew on Ginger’s face, bright as any wheat field on a sunny day. Her transformation mirrored Jimmy’s own.

“Yeah…” Mark said. “I better get home and see how Vanessa’s doing.”

“Do you want somebody to watch over Molly tonight?” Jimmy asked.

Mark glanced toward the sheriff’s office and then at his shoes. “She’s not going anywhere.” He hiked up the collar of his heavy coat against the cold wind, stepped onto the cobbled street and hopped over a pothole. “Come get me if anything else happens. Otherwise, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight,” Jimmy and Ginger said together, and then they giggled.

• • •

Jimmy woke with the night pressing down on him, unsure of where he was, surrounded by the scent of flowers. Muffled whispering behind a closed door tugged at his consciousness. When a loud thud sounded and someone hissed, “Be quiet,” he became fully awake.

He jerked upright, realized he was still dressed, and recalled lying down next to Ginger and falling asleep. In his head, he heard Samuel laughing. Ginger was still dressed too. Her eyes were open with fear shining in their depths.

“Someone’s in the house,” she whispered.

Jimmy pushed his finger to his lips and signaled for her to climb out of bed. He pointed to the closet, but she shook her head in refusal. He frowned until she folded her arms across her chest, convincing him that her hiding wasn’t going to happen.

“What are you doing in my room?” The wall dampened Catherine’s voice. “Oh, it’s you.”

Jimmy and Ginger stared at each other. Jimmy broke eye contact and searched for a weapon. He was out of luck unless he wanted to hurl flowerpot projectiles.

“I’m not going to let you ruin this for me by saving that tall farm boy,” Jimmy heard Chase say. “Grab her and let’s get out of here.”

Panic flashed through Jimmy. He pointed at Ginger. “Go get help.” And then he shot through the door, rounded the corner and slammed into a solid mound of flesh. Patrick used Jimmy’s surprise against him and flipped him to the ground in the narrow hallway. Faster than Jimmy could react, he was being pummeled by heavy fists, first in the face, and then on the body, as if the big kid were wielding a sledge hammer.

A break came in the beating as Patrick tumbled over Jimmy into the living room with Ginger riding on the big kid’s back, pulling out fistfuls of his red hair. Without much effort, Patrick reached behind his head, grabbed hold of Ginger’s arms and hurled her into the wall. She hit the floor, flipped over and bounced up instantly, ready to get right back into the middle of the fight again.

Anger and a protective instinct channeled through Jimmy with a furious roar. He charged in low, heaved the big kid up and plowed him to the floor like he was trying to bury him under the crawlspace. Jimmy plunged a knee into Patrick’s stomach, satisfied by the boy’s anguished cry, and started swinging wildly. A couple of his punches bashed into Patrick’s chest with the similar feel of punching a tree trunk.

“Run! Go get help!” Jimmy yelled at Ginger.

She stumbled for the door while Jimmy kept laying blows. The big kid twisted underneath him and tried to buck him off, but Jimmy was not letting him up. He knew his life depended on keeping Patrick down.

Something hard slammed Jimmy in the side of the head and knocked him into the wall. His eyes blurred as he caved to the floor.

“Thanks for the help,” Patrick said.

“The pleasure’s all mine.”

The voice—female—sounded familiar. Jimmy struggled, focusing his blurry vision to look around and raise himself up.

“Now let’s have a little fun,” Patrick said.

Jimmy cried out once when Patrick began kicking him. Then he tried to cover up as his ribs gave way. He lay trapped in a heap against the wall and the big redheaded kid laughed like a maniacal serial killer while kicking him over and over.

“That’s enough,” Chase said.

Jimmy suffered through each breath he took. He never knew that this kind of pain was possible. Every inch of his body, inside and out, felt busted.

Chase bent down to face him. “We’re leaving now and we’re taking the girl. If you come after us, I will kill Michael and David. Or should I call them, Hunter and Scout.”

Terror flowed uncontained throughout Jimmy’s wracked body. He coughed and felt something wet on his chin. He brushed his long sleeve across his mouth and saw the dark blood staining his shirt.

“That is what happens when you send babes into the woods where the big bad wolves dwell. I’ve seen what affect their presumed deaths have on you and Vanessa. If you don’t follow us, I’ll release them when I’m ready.”

Chase’s feverish eyes glimmered from whatever light they stole from the darkness. His hot breath washed over Jimmy’s face as he whispered, “She will not save you.” He backed away and regarded Jimmy for a second. “I met your parents once. You look just like your dad.”

“What?” Jimmy said. “Wait, what are you talking about?”

“Don’t worry about it. That was over six years ago.” Chase crept away, the night shadows caressing him until he vanished in their embrace.

Jimmy shifted, and winced over the effort. “How’d you know she was here?”

“I made a new friend.”

Molly stepped into Jimmy’s line of sight, tapping the shovel from the fireplace against her leg. “Hunter will be so pleased to see me again. I’ll let him know how you’re doing.” She smiled and dropped the shovel on him.

Jimmy scowled at her. While his left eye continued to grow puffier every second, the vision in his right eye cleared some. He glanced among the small crowd and caught Catherine staring at him, her small form glowing. Jimmy’s miracle was being torn away and he was too broken to do anything for her except bleed. Without a trace of worry on her face, Catherine waved goodbye. Patrick pushed her towards the front door and the group silently filed out.

Molly turned to follow.

“What should I tell your brother?” Jimmy asked.

Her back straightened at the threshold. “What do I care?”

Jimmy tried sitting up but it was all he could do to keep breathing. Ginger burst past Molly and fell at his side. Her eyes were filled with shining tears that she kept from falling.

“I’m sorry, Jimmy. A girl tackled me outside and held me down. I couldn’t get away from her. I’m so sorry.”

Molly laughed like she’d just gotten the joke and it wasn’t very funny. “So this is who you’re in love with? Figures. You two deserve each other. You’re both pathetic.” Then she stalked out and slammed the front door.

Ginger bolted up with murderous fury. Jimmy grasped her ankle, refusing to let her go. “Don’t,” he said.

She knelt once more and held his hand to her cheek. Now her tears fell freely, sweeping over his skin. “What should I do?”

“Wait.” Jimmy closed his eyes. Out front he heard car doors screech open and bang shut. An engine turned over and then tires crunched across the gravel road.

He squeezed Ginger’s hand. “Wake Mark, find Samuel and get Luis here quick, I think I’m going to need him.”

Ginger hovered over him a second more before lightly kissing his forehead. Then she left. Jimmy kept trying to do the only thing he could. Breathe. Between his raspy gasps and whistles, he prayed for Hunter and Scout’s safe return.





Scout caught a whiff of the ascending smoke column illuminated in the early breaking dawn as he and Hunter approached Independents. Dread rode above him in the mobilizing clouds and when they stopped at their house, it plummeted down on him like another curse from heaven.

“What the hell happened to our house?”

Stifled laughter sounded from the rear of his motorbike. He twisted backward and scowled at Jolanda. Her bonds and the gag suppressed her from pretty much everything, so she employed her only option—waggling eyebrows.

Scout propped his Suzuki on its kickstand and lurched over to the smoldering desolation. He stumbled at the edge, woozy from the sight and the scent. His second-story bedroom and all his stuff were reduced to a pile of charred rubble strewn along the ground. The brick fireplace stood alone, towering, sturdy and totally unsupported. Metal pipes leftover from the plumbing zigzagged in the sky.

“What happened to all my stuff? How does a house just burn to the ground?” He turned on Hunter and narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t leave a candle burning, did you?”

Hunter raised his hands. “No way, we left in the middle of the day, remember? Maybe a spark from the fireplace shot out and landed on the sofa cushions.”

“Maybe!” Scout’s voice cracked from the jump in octave. “Maybe!” He clenched his fists. His skin tightened over his body. “What about all my stuff! I’ve been collecting for years. I planned on using that stuff someday and now it’s all gone, all of it. I don’t even have a baseball glove anymore. And you think a spark maybe set fire to a couch cushion!”

Hunter plucked the non-simmering end of a two-by-four off the concrete path that used to lead home. He hurled the survivor into the black destruction that they used to call home.

“It’s just a theory.”

They stopped speaking with little more to say to each other. Scout searched the mess with his eyes, hoping to find something salvageable of his belongings. After a while he realized the inspection was pretty much pointless. All the sorrow of loss he felt six years ago returned and dragged him down again. He concealed his tears with a quick swipe before Hunter saw them.

The sound of running feet approached them from behind. Samuel scooted to a stop, took a second to catch his breath and then smiled. “You guys are all right. How’d you escape?”

“How’d you know we were captured?” Hunter asked.

“They took Catherine about an hour ago. Said they had captured you, and that they’d kill you if we followed.”

Hunter jumped on his bike. “Where’s my brother?”

“Over at Ginger’s house.”

“Get on,” Hunter said.

Samuel followed the order without hesitation and looked over at Scout’s bike. “Who’s the tied-up chick?”

“She’s one of them. Her name’s Jolanda,” Scout said, getting back onto his Suzuki.

Hunter broke out a grim smile when she tried to scream through her gag. Jolanda’s torment even gave Scout some small amount of pleasure. Samuel scratched underneath his stocking cap without comment.

“How did they find out about Catherine?” Scout asked. “I thought you were watching over her.”

“After they locked up Molly for torching your house—”

“Wait a minute. Molly burned all my stuff? Why?” Scout asked, and then he considered Hunter and added everything together. “You dumped her and she sets fire to my stuff.” He started rubbing a hand over his face, but stopped short because of the scratches from his recent scuffle with Jolanda. Instead, he shook his head in disbelief.

“I’m glad I wasn’t here when she came over,” Hunter said.

“I’m not. Maybe she would have stopped with you, instead of torching the whole place.”

Hunter frowned and closed his eyes. His head pitched forward like he was going to pray for forgiveness. They’d both lost their home, Scout reminded himself. At least Hunter wasn’t smirking about this. Scout didn’t think he could handle it if Hunter played this off with his hotshot attitude.

“So how did Chase and his crew find out about Catherine?” Hunter asked.

“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Samuel said. “They broke Molly out and she led them right to Catherine. Jimmy and Ginger were there and after Molly whacked Jimmy in the head that kid Patrick beat the hell out of him.”

Hunter sat up and turned back toward his passenger. “Is Jimmy okay?”

Samuel looked at him. “Barely.”

Hunter started his big orange bike, gunned the throttle, and the engine roared. Samuel’s eyes widened as he grasped for Hunter’s waist before Hunter shifted into first and patched out.

Scout waved off the dust cloud that engulfed him from their departure. He gazed at the scorched debris that was now his stuff and grappled with emotions that threatened to turn him into a blubbering mass. The tears returned, rolling down the fresh scratches on his face.

He looked over his shoulder and found Jolanda studying him. A shudder walked through his body. He leaned over his fuel tank until his inner turmoil settled.

“Raven, why does God continue to punish us?” He started his Suzuki and sat. The idling engine rumbled softly. “I’ll tell you what I believe. He isn’t out there to help us. No one is out there. It’s just this messed-up world and us. Soon, it’s just going to be an empty rock ’cuz we’ll all be dead.”

He waved one arm towards his house in a grand gesture. “Welcome to Independents.”

• • •

Scout pulled up to Ginger’s house and slipped off his bike, careful not to kick Jolanda. Hunter was already inside, leaving Samuel by the front porch.

“Looks like you got into some trouble,” Samuel said.

Lightly, Scout touched the scratches and felt his sore nose. “I’m all right.”

Samuel motioned towards Hunter’s orange KTM. “Is that a new motorbike?”

“Yeah, it belonged to one of the dudes that kidnapped us. Hunter crashed his old one so many times that he decided to make a trade. He thinks the bigger bike will make him a better rider.” Scout forced a weak smiled. “Here, help me with Jolanda.”

“Why does she scream like that when you say her name?”

“Because she thinks she deserves some cool name like Cardinal or something, but she’ll always be Jolanda to me.” Scout untangled the diamond hitch that strapped his captive to his bike and tore away the excess duct tape. “I can’t wait ’til Vanessa gets hold of you.”

Jolanda’s eyes bugged out. She rocked on top of the bike like she really needed to get off and go pee. Scout caught her before she landed face first on the ground. He propped her upright with her arms still tied and the gag in her mouth.

“That’s right,” he continued. “I’m giving you over to my big sister. She’s still angry about the time you stole her bike. Let’s see how tough you get when she’s up in your face.”

The front door of Ginger’s house burst open. “Thank you, Lord! David!” Vanessa leaped the steps of the porch and embraced Scout with an emotional rush of love and tears. “First I thought you had burned alive and then I heard you were captured. Then I prayed and you came! You came home to me just like I asked. Thank you, Lord!”

Scout hugged her back with everything he possessed. This time he didn’t care who saw his tears. “I know, ’Nessa, I know. It’s all right. I’m all right. I’m here.”

Vanessa’s hand pressed the back of his head, holding him tightly cheek to cheek. She was there for him like always. She would protect him. He closed his eyes, wanting the hug to continue forever with his sister that had become his mother in this world of children.

“Why is that girl tied up?” Vanessa asked when she finally pulled away, wiping her tears.

Scout reluctantly let her go and introduced his hostage. “She’s one of our captors.”

“She’s not very good at it,” Vanessa said.

“She had unreliable help. Remember when we were little, a girl stole your bike and her big sister said it was hers?” Scout smiled at Jolanda and returned her earlier eyebrow waggle.

Vanessa tilted her head. Her eyes regarded Scout’s captive. “Jolanda Lewis?”

Scout made extravagant hand gestures like a magician pulling a rabbit out of his hat. “Here in the flesh. And she’s dying to help us rescue Catherine.”

Vanessa stepped up to face Jolanda while Samuel struggled to hold the frightened girl upright because her knees kept collapsing. “Take her to Catherine’s room,” she said. “And Samuel…”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t play with the dolls.”

Scout chuckled, but could tell there was more to the story by the way his sister bounced with laughter, and how Samuel’s face flared into a bright crimson.

“I can’t believe you’d joke like that now.”

Vanessa shrugged. “It’s been a long night and I needed the laugh or I might have started crying again.”

Samuel walked Jolanda onto the porch and guided her into the house.

Vanessa inspected Scout’s face and brought her palm to his cheek. “Are you okay?”

He nestled in her touch. “I am now.”

Mark hung in the doorway. His face carried that faraway look of someone not ready to believe part of his life was now altered forever. He hid his hands deep in his coat pockets and his chin was ducked below the collar. His eyes were misty from the cold, or sadness. Scout decided not to guess which.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Mark said.

“Thanks, man. How are you doing?”

“Fine.” Mark sighed. “I guess you’ve heard already.”

“Molly? Yeah, I heard.”

“I just wish I knew why she did it. I keep thinking it’s my fault.”

Scout placed his hand on Mark’s shoulder. “We’ll find her. We’ll get Molly back. I promise.”

“Why would we want to get her back?” Mark turned to go inside. Vanessa took Scout’s hand and they followed Mark out of the cold morning air.

Jimmy lay on the long dining room table, his head resting on a roll of royal blue fabric while Luis tended to his various injuries. Ginger’s pale face glanced up with worry set in her features. She held Jimmy’s hand. Scout checked off another slot on his matchmaking card.

Hunter spoke in hushed tones to his brother. The fear in Hunter’s eyes disturbed Scout almost as much as losing all his stuff. Maybe Hunter did care after all.

Jimmy slowly turned his head toward Scout and nodded. His face resembled a rotten prune. One eye was swollen shut. A white strip of tape bandaged his nose, but the shine in his good eye said everything. You can’t keep a guy like Jimmy down.

Scout nodded back.