All the Little Lights
Page 90
Catherine was still staring at the Juniper. She hadn’t paid attention to Detective Thompson or Mr. Mason at all.
“Catherine?” I said, touching her arm.
She pulled away. “I want to watch. I want to see it burn all the way to the ground.”
The Juniper was burning, and the Masons’ house was a bloody crime scene. She couldn’t go back there.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll take her home with me. My aunt won’t mind.”
“Thank you,” Mr. Mason said.
The sirens were deafening as the fire trucks pulled up next to the old mansion. Hoses were strung across the yard, and firefighters were speaking over their radios to one another.
“No. No! Let it burn!” Catherine yelled.
“You’re going to have to step back,” one of the officers said, holding up his hands and walking toward us.
“I have to see it,” Catherine said, shoving him away.
“It wasn’t a request. I said move.” He grabbed her arm, and she fought him.
“Let it burn!”
“Hey,” I said, pushing at his chest. He grabbed my wrist.
“Step back!” he yelled in my face.
“Okay, let’s all calm down,” Mr. Mason said, stepping between us. “Catherine . . .”
She wouldn’t look away from the house, entranced by the buckling roof and the flames flickering in her eyes.
“Catherine,” Mrs. Mason said.
When Catherine didn’t acknowledge either of them, the officer sighed. “All right,” he said, forcibly removing her from the yard.
“No!” she yelled, struggling.
“Get your hands off her!” I growled, trying to pull her from his grasp. Another officer yanked me back, putting me in a hold.
“Leave them alone!” Mrs. Mason cried.
The officer hissed in my ear. “You’re going to get her hurt! Stop! Let Officer Mardis get her safely away.”
I stopped fighting, breathing hard, my heart aching as I watched Catherine struggle. “Just don’t . . . don’t fight them, Catherine!” I walked with the officer to the ambulance, wincing as I watched her fight for a line of sight. She yanked her arms out of his grasp and took a closer step, in awe.
“Get her out of here,” Thompson said. “Get her gone before I arrest you both.”
Mrs. Mason bit her lip. “Catherine?” She took Catherine’s chin in her fingers and forced her to meet her gaze. “Catherine. You have to go.” Catherine tried to turn toward the Juniper, but Mrs. Mason kept hold of her jaw. “It’s gone.”
A single tear tumbled down Catherine’s cheek, and she nodded, covering her face with both hands.
I leaned down and lifted her in my arms, carrying her to the Chrysler. I set her in the passenger seat.
She sucked in a shaky breath and peered at the mansion over her shoulder. “Get pictures.”
I nodded and reached for my camera bag, unzipping it and standing next to Catherine while I zoomed in and snapped as many as I could before Thompson caught me. I shoved the camera back in the bag and then shut Catherine’s door, jogging around to the driver’s side.
We drove the few blocks to Aunt Leigh’s. She and Uncle John were standing on the porch, worry in their eyes.
“Elliott!” she yelled, rushing down the porch steps and throwing her arms around me seconds after I stepped out onto the drive. “What happened? Is Catherine . . .” She noticed the girl in the passenger seat with wet cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. “Oh my Jesus, what happened?”
“The Juniper is burning,” I choked out.
Aunt Leigh covered her mouth. “Is Mavis . . . ?”
“She kidnapped and killed Presley Brubaker. She kidnapped Mrs. Mason tonight. They arrested her. I don’t know where she is.”
Aunt Leigh’s eyes glossed over, and she walked around the passenger side of my car. She opened the door and knelt beside Catherine. “Baby girl?”
Catherine looked at her and then slowly leaned into Aunt Leigh’s chest. Aunt Leigh hugged her tight, shaking her head, her eyes drifting to me.
Uncle John’s hand was on my shoulder.
“She’s going to need to stay with us for a while,” I said, watching Aunt Leigh hold Catherine.
“The spare bedroom is ready. We can pick up her things tomorrow.” He turned me to face him. “You okay?” I nodded, and he hugged me.
Aunt Leigh helped Catherine out of the car, keeping her arm around her as they walked inside. Uncle John and I followed.
Aunt Leigh disappeared with Catherine behind the spare bedroom door, and Uncle John sat with me in the living room.
“We’ll take care of her,” Uncle John said.
I nodded. It was time someone took care of Catherine for a change.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Catherine
I sat alone in the Youngbloods’ spare bedroom, wood paneling the backdrop for white-framed portraits Leigh had painted of the family. A wedding ring quilt covered the queen-size bed, an antique wooden dresser with a mirror against the white wall.
I smelled like a campfire, and even though Leigh had offered to let me use the shower, I declined. Watching the Juniper burn was unexpected closure, and a strange sense of calm came over me every time I inhaled. Mama could never go back. I would never have to go back. We were free.
A short knock on the door snapped me to the present, and I blinked.
“Hey,” Elliott said, his hair still wet from a shower. He was wearing a worn T-shirt and basketball shorts, and he padded to my bed in bare feet.
“Hey.”
“You okay?” he asked.
“No, but I will be.”
“Mr. Mason called Aunt Leigh. Mrs. Mason got a couple dozen stitches in her head. She has a concussion, but she’s going to be okay. Her sister, Lauren, is coming to help clean up, and then they said you should be able to come back when she gets home, if that’s okay with you. Is that . . . okay with you?”
I nodded. “I don’t think it’s right to ask your aunt and uncle to take me in.”
“They don’t mind. They really don’t.”
“Becca will need me. I should stay with her.”
Elliott nodded, sitting on the bed next to me. “That’s too bad. I could get used to this.” He handed me his phone, open to a group chat with Sam and Madison. “They’ve been blowing up my phone, worried about you. I told Maddy you’d call her in the morning.”
“How did you know?” I asked. “To come to the Juniper?”
“After I dropped you off, the farther I drove from the Masons’, the worse I felt. I couldn’t shake the bad feeling I’d had all night,” he said. “I pulled into Aunt Leigh’s driveway and then backed out and turned around. I drove back to the Masons’, saw the red and blue lights, and I parked where I stopped. I didn’t even shut my door. I just ran. When I saw the blood . . . I’ve never been so scared, Catherine. I tried fighting my way into the house. I screamed for you. That’s when Mr. Mason told me you were okay, but you’d left. I went straight to the Juniper. I knew that’s where you’d go.”
I hugged him, burying my face in his neck. “You came back.”
He leaned his head on mine. “I told you I would. And now that I know . . .”
“Now that you know . . . ,” I repeated, peering up at him.
He sighed, looking down at the carpet. I’d tried to push him away for so long. Now that he had a reason to walk away, it was more difficult to accept than I’d thought it would be. But if that was what he wanted, I wouldn’t blame him. What happened in the basement was almost too much for me to believe, and I couldn’t imagine the things going through Elliott’s mind.
“Catherine?” I said, touching her arm.
She pulled away. “I want to watch. I want to see it burn all the way to the ground.”
The Juniper was burning, and the Masons’ house was a bloody crime scene. She couldn’t go back there.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll take her home with me. My aunt won’t mind.”
“Thank you,” Mr. Mason said.
The sirens were deafening as the fire trucks pulled up next to the old mansion. Hoses were strung across the yard, and firefighters were speaking over their radios to one another.
“No. No! Let it burn!” Catherine yelled.
“You’re going to have to step back,” one of the officers said, holding up his hands and walking toward us.
“I have to see it,” Catherine said, shoving him away.
“It wasn’t a request. I said move.” He grabbed her arm, and she fought him.
“Let it burn!”
“Hey,” I said, pushing at his chest. He grabbed my wrist.
“Step back!” he yelled in my face.
“Okay, let’s all calm down,” Mr. Mason said, stepping between us. “Catherine . . .”
She wouldn’t look away from the house, entranced by the buckling roof and the flames flickering in her eyes.
“Catherine,” Mrs. Mason said.
When Catherine didn’t acknowledge either of them, the officer sighed. “All right,” he said, forcibly removing her from the yard.
“No!” she yelled, struggling.
“Get your hands off her!” I growled, trying to pull her from his grasp. Another officer yanked me back, putting me in a hold.
“Leave them alone!” Mrs. Mason cried.
The officer hissed in my ear. “You’re going to get her hurt! Stop! Let Officer Mardis get her safely away.”
I stopped fighting, breathing hard, my heart aching as I watched Catherine struggle. “Just don’t . . . don’t fight them, Catherine!” I walked with the officer to the ambulance, wincing as I watched her fight for a line of sight. She yanked her arms out of his grasp and took a closer step, in awe.
“Get her out of here,” Thompson said. “Get her gone before I arrest you both.”
Mrs. Mason bit her lip. “Catherine?” She took Catherine’s chin in her fingers and forced her to meet her gaze. “Catherine. You have to go.” Catherine tried to turn toward the Juniper, but Mrs. Mason kept hold of her jaw. “It’s gone.”
A single tear tumbled down Catherine’s cheek, and she nodded, covering her face with both hands.
I leaned down and lifted her in my arms, carrying her to the Chrysler. I set her in the passenger seat.
She sucked in a shaky breath and peered at the mansion over her shoulder. “Get pictures.”
I nodded and reached for my camera bag, unzipping it and standing next to Catherine while I zoomed in and snapped as many as I could before Thompson caught me. I shoved the camera back in the bag and then shut Catherine’s door, jogging around to the driver’s side.
We drove the few blocks to Aunt Leigh’s. She and Uncle John were standing on the porch, worry in their eyes.
“Elliott!” she yelled, rushing down the porch steps and throwing her arms around me seconds after I stepped out onto the drive. “What happened? Is Catherine . . .” She noticed the girl in the passenger seat with wet cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. “Oh my Jesus, what happened?”
“The Juniper is burning,” I choked out.
Aunt Leigh covered her mouth. “Is Mavis . . . ?”
“She kidnapped and killed Presley Brubaker. She kidnapped Mrs. Mason tonight. They arrested her. I don’t know where she is.”
Aunt Leigh’s eyes glossed over, and she walked around the passenger side of my car. She opened the door and knelt beside Catherine. “Baby girl?”
Catherine looked at her and then slowly leaned into Aunt Leigh’s chest. Aunt Leigh hugged her tight, shaking her head, her eyes drifting to me.
Uncle John’s hand was on my shoulder.
“She’s going to need to stay with us for a while,” I said, watching Aunt Leigh hold Catherine.
“The spare bedroom is ready. We can pick up her things tomorrow.” He turned me to face him. “You okay?” I nodded, and he hugged me.
Aunt Leigh helped Catherine out of the car, keeping her arm around her as they walked inside. Uncle John and I followed.
Aunt Leigh disappeared with Catherine behind the spare bedroom door, and Uncle John sat with me in the living room.
“We’ll take care of her,” Uncle John said.
I nodded. It was time someone took care of Catherine for a change.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Catherine
I sat alone in the Youngbloods’ spare bedroom, wood paneling the backdrop for white-framed portraits Leigh had painted of the family. A wedding ring quilt covered the queen-size bed, an antique wooden dresser with a mirror against the white wall.
I smelled like a campfire, and even though Leigh had offered to let me use the shower, I declined. Watching the Juniper burn was unexpected closure, and a strange sense of calm came over me every time I inhaled. Mama could never go back. I would never have to go back. We were free.
A short knock on the door snapped me to the present, and I blinked.
“Hey,” Elliott said, his hair still wet from a shower. He was wearing a worn T-shirt and basketball shorts, and he padded to my bed in bare feet.
“Hey.”
“You okay?” he asked.
“No, but I will be.”
“Mr. Mason called Aunt Leigh. Mrs. Mason got a couple dozen stitches in her head. She has a concussion, but she’s going to be okay. Her sister, Lauren, is coming to help clean up, and then they said you should be able to come back when she gets home, if that’s okay with you. Is that . . . okay with you?”
I nodded. “I don’t think it’s right to ask your aunt and uncle to take me in.”
“They don’t mind. They really don’t.”
“Becca will need me. I should stay with her.”
Elliott nodded, sitting on the bed next to me. “That’s too bad. I could get used to this.” He handed me his phone, open to a group chat with Sam and Madison. “They’ve been blowing up my phone, worried about you. I told Maddy you’d call her in the morning.”
“How did you know?” I asked. “To come to the Juniper?”
“After I dropped you off, the farther I drove from the Masons’, the worse I felt. I couldn’t shake the bad feeling I’d had all night,” he said. “I pulled into Aunt Leigh’s driveway and then backed out and turned around. I drove back to the Masons’, saw the red and blue lights, and I parked where I stopped. I didn’t even shut my door. I just ran. When I saw the blood . . . I’ve never been so scared, Catherine. I tried fighting my way into the house. I screamed for you. That’s when Mr. Mason told me you were okay, but you’d left. I went straight to the Juniper. I knew that’s where you’d go.”
I hugged him, burying my face in his neck. “You came back.”
He leaned his head on mine. “I told you I would. And now that I know . . .”
“Now that you know . . . ,” I repeated, peering up at him.
He sighed, looking down at the carpet. I’d tried to push him away for so long. Now that he had a reason to walk away, it was more difficult to accept than I’d thought it would be. But if that was what he wanted, I wouldn’t blame him. What happened in the basement was almost too much for me to believe, and I couldn’t imagine the things going through Elliott’s mind.
