Page 83 of False Idols

I follow Beau out of the car and up the steps of the house. Beau unlocks the door and it’s only when I hear the lock click in place that I relax slightly. Even so, I look towards the windows.

“Can we close the curtains?” I ask him. There are curtains hanging nice and thick, even if not a single one of them is being used.

“Sure, I’ll get them.” Beau starts to work on closing the curtains by the door while I move into the living room. There aren't as many windows in here, just ones facing where I know the lake is. Maybe I’ll spend more time here.

I pull them closed and look over my shoulder while Beau continues to close curtains behind me. “Thank you, it’s just-I mean, I feel like a sitting duck with all these windows.”

“I don’t think I noticed it before, but I was only out here a few times before.”

He doesn’t say before what. I know what he means. I’m glad he doesn't bring it up. It hurts when he does. I finish closing the curtains and look around the living room. It’s a big room that opens up to the second floor above it. There’s a big comfy looking sectional in front of a massive stone fireplace. The floors are dark wood and the walls are white with the kind of rafters above it that looks like rough hewn wood. It adds a warmth and down to earth touch to the room, even if the lake house is easily the nicest house I’ve ever been in. There’s a wall of built-in bookshelves beside the fireplace. When I go look at the shelves, the only books I see are photo books and what I think of as coffee table books, of National Parks and Cooking. The knick knacks on the shelves look like someone else picked them out. There’s a dish full of glass orbs and a set of scented pine cones. Plain wax candles sit on the mantle, but there are no photos. Interesting. When I turn and look at the walls, I see there are no photos anywhere. At least, none of the Du Ponts. Everything is artsy or looks like it was picked out specifically to match the decor.

I’m staring at one photo that I know. It’s of the Konza prairie at sunset and a storm is rolling in. It’s beautiful, with a line of dark clouds and the last burst of sunshine breaking through the gray storm clouds that darken into night. It looks surreal, but it’s not. Storms roll in unfettered and wild on the prairie and create a beauty so surreal it makes everything fall away.

Life here has a beauty to it. A beauty that people wouldn’t think existed in a flyover state like Kansas. I wonder if it would have been more beautiful if The Reaper hadn’t been bloodying it over the years. What would it have been like to take everything Bloom has to offer without a madman terrorizing us? Would it have made any difference at all? I don’t know.

“They won that at some auction,” Beau says when he walks into the room and sees me staring at the picture. I’m not really looking at it anymore. My thoughts are a jumbled mess, so I’ve just been staring in the direction of it for god knows how long.

“There’s no pictures of you or your family,” I say.

“They didn’t spend much time out here,” Beau replies and looks around the house. “It was decorated this way when we bought it.”

“Really?” I look around the house with new eyes. To think Beau’s parents left the house empty and frozen in time for four years is eerie, but it makes me feel like I understand the house. I was frozen in time without Beau too. Reliving that night over and over, dreaming of Carrie, guilt-ridden and praying for Beau’s release.

I never left that night, not until Beau came back and freed me.

He nods. “Yeah, they never came up here after that. I think my dad does sometimes when he wants to tie one on or have a poker night, maybe do a little fishing, but my mother?” He snorts and shakes his head. “Absolutely not. No reason for her to leave town.”

“It’s pretty out here,” I say and Beau snorts.

“Sure it is, just look at those views,” he says, sweeping a hand out to the now covered windows.

“It could be worse,” I point out. I don’t know how much worse it could be given the past twenty four hours, but we’re still alive and at this point that’s a win.

Beau doesn't say anything, he just grabs both of my hands and pulls me to him. He cradles my face when my body is flush to his and strokes my cheek. “I’m going to keep you safe.”

“I know,” I whisper.

A knock at the door makes me jump but Beau doesn’t react. He turns towards the door, calm as you please, and motions for me to move behind him. “It’s just the cops, but stay behind me. There’s a gun safe upstairs. First bedroom on the left, you’ll find it in the closet. The code is the same as the gate. Repeat it.”

“I, uh,” I stammer and panic because it’s hard for me to remember, but I manage it, “it’s 4289.”

“That’s it. I want you to run for that gun and blow that fucker’s brains out,” he tells me while we walk towards the door.

“I don’t know how to shoot a gun.”

“You’ll figure it out. I know you.”

Beau opens the door and I hang back a step. Sure enough, it’s the local cops that followed us from Bloom. “Evening, you two. We just finished doing a perimeter check. Everything looks good. We’re going to go head on back down by the gate for the night but we’ll be up to do a check every other hour. Anything about the property that we should know?”

“You’ve got the codes?” Beau asks.

“Your parents had them sent over.”

“That’s all there is to know then.”

“Sounds good,” The cops says and looks at me over Beau’s shoulder as he hands him a couple of cards, “that’s going to be the direct line to me and this one is to my partner.” The cop doesn't look at me like I’ve done anything wrong. He looks at me like he feels sorry this is happening to me. I hope nothing bad happens to him while he’s out there keeping watch for The Reaper.

“Thank you, sir. Have a good night out there.”

---