There seemed like nothing left to do but go home. Then he remembered finding his father at the table the other night staring down the barrel of his service revolver. “What the fuck is happening…” Again he thought he might have been better off just waiting outside to see if Mr. Tough Cop had the balls to pull the trigger. Then where would he be? Mother gone, father dead, too young to be on his own. They’d probably throw him in some group home or stick him with a foster family. It was a rare time that Dale Crawford actually thought about the future, and this was why. He suddenly felt completely sober and unusually hopeless.
Everything was fine before Greymore got here. Dale was the town badass, fully protected by the fact his father was Chief of Police. He had Julie wrapped around his finger and he had a gang that would do whatever he told them. Now, Julie was gone, Brantley had bailed after the night at the library, and now Tony and Buddy had both deserted him. “What the fuck is happening,” he repeated. But all roads led back to Greymore. He would have to get his shit together, convince Tony and Buddy to help him, and finish that freak once and for all. It would put him back on top where he belonged and maybe help his father get his shit together for a change.
He’d had these thoughts before, but they were always in a haze of either alcohol or rage. Tonight, he felt oddly calm, his rage and most of his drunkenness left back in the parking lot. The thoughts that went through his head now, the precise step-by-step plans, had the razor-sharp focus found only in the true genius or the hopeless psychopath.
(68)
Paul was startled by the knock on his door. He’d returned from Boston later than expected thanks to traffic and had walked home from the bus. He hadn’t slept well in the hotel and the days had been long. He’d stretched out on his bed to rest for a moment and had fallen into a deep sleep until the knock awakened him. Crawford was the first thought that entered his mind. But Crawford wouldn’t knock. He’d torch the house and drag Greymore’s burnt bones out of the rubble. Then who? Before he could finish the thought or get halfway to the door, the knocks became a steady pounding. He threw open the door and the girl, in mid-knock, came stumbling into his arms. Paul caught her by the shoulders to keep her from falling. “Julie? Is something wrong? Is it your dad?”
She was out of breath and frantic. “Mr. Greymore… you have to get out… we have to get out of here.”
“Slow down, Julie. What’s going on?” Paul stepped onto the porch to look up and down the street. Seeing nothing unusual, he went back in and closed the door. “Take a deep breath and talk to me.”
She took a second to compose herself before responding but still speaking in machine-gun burst between breaths. “It’s Dale and his stupid gang. They’re coming. To get you. And me too if they find me.”
“Julie, I think…”
“No! We have to go. Please.” The look in her eyes said more than her words ever could. The girl was afraid. For her life.
“Okay. I don’t have a car; we can take my canoe across the lake and get back to town from that side. Father McCarthy will help.”
“Let’s go. Anywhere but here.” She pulled him toward the back of the house.
Neither of them spoke as they prepared to get on the lake in Paul’s canoe. Paul threw an empty canteen, some rope to tie up the canoe and a flashlight into a knapsack. Julie kept looking back toward the street, imagining the Mustang’s growl as it screamed up Hillview Street. Finally, life jackets on, they shoved off. And it was then that Paul thought about everything that had been going on, and the part the lake played in it. Suddenly, this seemed like a very bad idea. He looked at Julie, saw the raw terror in her eyes, and began rowing. No turning back now. “Julie, what happened? It’s okay, we’re safe… from Crawford.”
“He tried to rape me.” Her voice was flat, head down, eyes shut tight.
Greymore stopped rowing, staring at Julie in disbelief. He knew the kid was bad news, a chip off the old block, but this was over the top. “That son of a bitch.” He began rowing, this time with one oar, turning the canoe around.
“No, Mr. Greymore, what are you doing? You can’t go back!” She lunged across the seat to stop him, threatening to dump them both into the lake. “They mean to kill you. They’re drunk and there’re three of them. I think they have guns. Please?”
Paul was seething. The atrocities he faced in prison were bad, but to him, hurting a child, and Julie was a child, was unacceptable. She held his eyes now, had to see the murder in them, but she wouldn’t look away. He sighed deeply and nodded. She sat back down and he began rowing again.
“Mr. Greymore, I want to apologize for the way I acted the night you first visited my father. I was rude and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m sorry.”
Paul wanted to interrupt, but he could see it was something she wanted… needed to say.
“I haven’t been a very good daughter lately. Hell, I haven’t been a very good person. I used to be good. I became a cliché, started hanging with the wrong crowd. My grades went down, my old friends stopped wanting to see me, I became a rebel. I thought it was cool. But I’m done with it.
“I thought about everything on the way over here. How I’ve been acting, how I’ve treated everyone. Especially Dad. Then I thought about Denny losing his dad. I can’t even imagine what it was like. He was really close to his dad the way I am… or the way I used to be. With everything I’ve done, in my heart I know I can count on my dad for anything. I’m so afraid of how badly I’ve hurt him…”
“Julie, I think your dad would be really happy to hear this.”
Julie wiped tears from her eyes. “I know. I’m going to see him tomorrow. I’m so afraid of what he thinks of me.”
“Well, the Joe Cummings I know will probably give you a big hug and tell you he loves you.”
Julie smiled, still wiping the tears away. “Thanks.”
“Now, why don’t you tell me what happened tonight?”
Greymore felt the old anger rising as she related the events that took place at the carnival. His prison instincts were telling him to find the punk and teach him another lesson, since the one at the gas station didn’t seem to take. But he knew Julie was right; things were already too far out of control, and with Crawford’s gang drunk, the situation could only end badly. And Braxton was not on Paul’s list of places to visit anytime soon.
Paul stopped rowing and stared intently back toward his house. Paul was surprised by the distance they had covered; listening to Julie had made the time pass quickly. He had left lights on in his haste to get out and it was easy to pick it out of the darkness. The thing that struck him as odd was the lights on in the Cummings house. “Julie, your mom is still in Malden and Billy is staying with Denny, right?”
“Yeah, why…” She followed Paul’s gaze and saw the lights. “The house was dark when I walked by, I’m sure of it.”
Paul began rowing.
(69)
Denny’s eyes darted to Billy and saw that he was in the same situation. “Don’t struggle, boys, I’m on your side. I know what’s going on. I’m going to take my hand off you now. Please trust me and don’t run or scream.” The hand slid away as quickly as it had come on. Denny whipped around to face the person, not sure what to expect next, never expecting what he saw.