Still, there was another way to escape the horror of their lives, though in all his years he'd come across only one who actually did it. He'd interviewed the woman once and she'd taken the usual route of denial and self-blame. But a couple of months later, he'd learned that she'd fled. Not to her family and not to her friends, but somewhere else, a place where even her husband couldn't find her. Her husband, lost in his fury that his wife had left, had exploded after a long night of drinking and had bloodied an MP. He ended up in Leavenworth, and Alex remembered grinning in satisfaction when he'd heard the news. And when thinking of the man's wife, he smiled, thinking, Good for you.
Now, as he watched Katie toying with a ring that wasn't there, he felt his old investigative instincts kick in. There'd been a husband, he thought; her husband was the missing element. Either she was still married or she wasn't, but he had an undeniable hunch that Katie was still afraid of him.
The sky exploded while she was reaching for a box of crackers. Lightning flashed, and a few seconds later thunder crackled before finally settling into a loud, angry rumble. Josh dashed inside right before the downpour started, clutching his tackle box and fishing reel as he entered the store. His face was red and he was panting like a runner crossing the finish line.
"Hey, Dad."
Alex looked up. "Catch anything?"
"Just the catfish again. The same one I catch every time."
"I'll see you in a little bit for lunch, okay?"
Josh vanished back into the storeroom and Alex heard him padding up the steps to the house.
Outside, the rain came down hard and the wind whipped sheets of water against the glass. Branches bent in the wind, bowing to a higher power. The dark sky flashed bright with lightning, and thunder boomed, loud enough to shake the windows. From across the store, Alex saw Katie flinch, her face a mask of surprise and terror, and he found himself wondering whether it was the same way her husband had once seen her.
The door of the store opened and a man rushed in, trailing water on the old wood flooring. He shook rivulets of rain from his sleeves and nodded at Alex before finally moving toward the grill.
Katie turned back to the shelf that held crackers. He didn't have a big selection, just Saltines and Ritz, the only two that sold regularly, and she reached for the Ritz.
She selected her usual items as well and carried her basket to the register. When he finished ringing up and bagging her items, Alex tapped the bag he'd put on the counter earlier.
"Don't forget the vegetables."
She glanced at the total on the register. "Are you sure you rang them up?"
"Of course."
"Because the total isn't any more than it usually is."
"I gave you the introductory price."
She frowned, wondering whether to believe him, then finally reached into the bag. She pulled out a tomato and brought it to her nose.
"It smells good."
"I had some last night. They're great with a touch of salt, and the cucumbers don't need anything."
She nodded but her gaze was focused on the door. The wind was driving rain against it in furious waves. The door creaked open, the water fighting to get inside. The world beyond the glass was blurry.
People lingered in the grill. Alex could hear them mumbling to themselves about waiting for the storm to break.
Katie drew a fortifying breath and reached for her bags.
"Miss Katie!" Kristen cried, sounding almost panicked. She stood, brandishing the picture she'd colored. She'd already torn it from the book. "You almost forgot your picture."
Katie reached for it, brightening as she examined the picture. Alex noted how-at least for an instant-everything else in the world seemed to be forgotten.
"This is beautiful," she murmured. "I can't wait to hang it up."
"I'll color another one for you the next time you come in."
"I'd like that very much," she said.
Kristen beamed before sitting at the table again. Katie rolled up the picture, making sure not to wrinkle it, and then tucked it into the bag. Lightning and thunder erupted, almost simultaneously this time. Rain hammered the ground and the parking lot was a sea of puddles. The sky was as dark as northern seas.
"Do you know how long the storm is supposed to last?" she asked.
"I heard it was supposed to last most of the day," Alex answered.
She stared out the door. As she debated what to do, she toyed again with the nonexistent ring. In the silence, Kristen tugged at her dad's shirt.
"You should drive Miss Katie home," she told him. "She doesn't have a car. And it's raining hard."
Alex looked at Katie, knowing she'd overheard Kristen. "Would you like a ride home?"
Katie shook her head. "No, that's okay."
"But what about the picture?" Kristen said. "It might get wet."
When Katie didn't answer immediately, Alex came out from behind the register. "Come on." He motioned with his head. "There's no reason to get soaked. My car's right out back."
"I don't want to impose … "
"You're not imposing." He patted his pocket and pulled out his car keys before reaching for the bags. "Let me get those for you," he said, taking them. "Kristen, sweetie? Will you run upstairs and tell Josh I'll be back in ten minutes?"
"Sure, Daddy," she said.
"Roger?" he called out. "Watch the store and the kids for a bit, would you?"
"No problem." Roger waved.
Alex nodded toward the rear of the store. "You ready?" he asked.
They made a frantic dash for the jeep, wielding bent umbrellas against the gale-force winds and blankets of rain. Lightning continued to flash, making the clouds blink. Once they had settled into their seats, Katie used her hand to wipe the condensation from the window.
"I didn't think it would be like this when I left the house."
"No one ever does, until the storm hits, anyway. We get a lot of the sky is falling on the weather reports, so when something big does hit, people never expect it. If it's not as bad as the reports predicted, we complain. If it's worse than expected, we complain. If it's just as bad as predicted, we complain about that, too, because we'll say that the reports are wrong so often, there was no way to know they'd be right this time. It just gives people something to complain about."
"Like the people in the grill?"
He nodded and grinned. "But they're basically good people. For the most part, they're hardworking, honest, and as kind as the day is long. Any one of them would have been glad to watch the store for me if I'd asked, and they'd account for every penny. It's like that down here. Because deep down, everyone here knows that in a small town like this, we all need one another. It's great, even if it did take some time for me to get used to it."
"You're not from here?"
"No. My wife was. I'm from Spokane. When I first moved here, I remember thinking that there wasn't a chance I'd ever stay in a place like this. I mean, it's a small Southern town that doesn't care what the rest of the world thinks. It takes a little getting used to, at first. But then … it grows on you. It keeps me focused on what's important."
Katie's voice was soft. "What's important?"
He shrugged. "Depends on the person, doesn't it? But right now, for me, it's about my kids. This is home for them, and after what they've been through, they need predictability. Kristen needs a place to color and dress her dolls and Josh needs a place to fish, and they both need to know that I'm around whenever they need me. This place, and the store, gives them that, and right now, that's what I want. It's what I need."
He paused, feeling self-conscious about talking so much. "By the way, where am I going, exactly?"
"Keep going straight. There's a gravel road that you'll have to turn on. It's a little bit past the curve."
"You mean the gravel road by the plantation?"
Katie nodded. "That's the one."
"I didn't even know that road went anywhere." He wrinkled his forehead. "That's quite a walk," he said. "What is it? A couple of miles?"
"It's not too bad," she demurred.
"Maybe in nice weather. But today, you'd have to swim home. There's no way you could have walked this far. And Kristen's picture would have been ruined."
He noted the flicker of a smile at Kristen's name but she said nothing.
"Someone said you work at Ivan's?" he prompted.
She nodded. "I started in March."
"How do you like it?"
"It's okay. It's just a job, but the owner has been good to me."
"Ivan?"
"You know him?"
"Everyone knows Ivan. Did you know he dresses up like a Confederate general every fall to reenact the famed Battle of Southport? When Sherman burned the town? Which is fine, of course … except that there was never a Battle of Southport in the Civil War. Southport wasn't even called Southport back then, it was called Smithville. And Sherman was never within a hundred miles of here."