Page 17 of The Midnight Knock

HUNTER

His father had taught him well.Always watch your angles. Keep your back to a solid wall. Never let anyone get the drop on you. Never even let them think it.Growing up, his father used to cuff Hunter behind the ear if the boy ever forgot one of the golden rules. Even when the two of them were alone at home. Even when the only danger around was the big man himself.

Hunter still had a mass of scar tissue behind his ear from all the times his father had beat the forgetfulness out of him.

Still had the scar on his chest from when he’d killed him, too.

His old man had been a beast, but his rules had stuck. The moment Hunter and Ethan had stepped into the motel’s office, Hunter had positioned himself at the far end of the desk, his back facing the corner. It gave him a clear view of all points of egress: the front door and the frosted glass, the wide windows framing the fireplace, the walnut door in the back of the office.

Hunter had watched the way Ethan and this Kyla girl had made nice. Hunter wished Ethan hadn’t given Kyla their names, but it wasn’t like Hunter could expect otherwise. Ethan was a decent man, empathetic to an uncanny degree. Ethan was scared and angry, but who wouldn’t be angry if they’d spent their whole life getting kicked around in a shithole like Ellersby, Texas? Who wouldn’t be scared, trying to start their whole life over? With a man like Hunter, no less.

Do I scare you, boy?his father used to say.

No. But sometimes Hunter scared himself.

Hunter hadn’t expected to see the girls from the Malibu here. Kyla and Fernanda. The girls were clearly on edge, clearly on the run from their own mess. They didn’t seem aware they were doing it, but they were constantly looking at the doors and windows, shooting glances out at the road like they were waiting for an army to come rolling in after them. Hunter didn’t want Ethan to spend much more time in the girls’ company. The boys had enough trouble of their own without getting tangled up in anyone else’s.

Or maybe Hunter just wanted them to stop talking so his head could get a break. He rubbed his temples. Ever since that weird silver light had passed over the sky earlier, he’d had a migraine that would kill a dog.

But when the door of the office opened, Hunter realized his head was the least of his worries. He knew this new woman who stepped inside. Sarah Powers.

Six weeks ago, Hunter had met this woman in the visitor’s center of the Huntsville state prison.

What were the fucking odds?

Tell Sarah—

Tell Sarah, the mountain—

Before he could stop himself, Hunter blinked in surprise. He regained his composure quick. He stood very still, very calm, at the end of the desk. He could become practically invisible when he wanted to. He watched. He waited to see what Sarah Powers would do.

He hoped, for her sake, that she didn’t recognize him.

But no, of course the day was just going to get weirder. Because instead of looking at Hunter, Sarah Powers fixed her attention on Ethan and said, of all fucking things, “I’m sorry, but is your last name Cross? This is going to sound crazy, but I think I knew your mother.”

Silence in the office, a startled hush. Hunter saw the way the girl Kyla was studying Sarah Powers, the recognition in her eyes. Unless he was much mistaken,sheknew Sarah too.

What was going on here?

But then Ethan had a surprise of his own. After a moment’s consideration, he said, “I doubt it. My mom didn’t know a lot of people out this way. She moved out of west Texas when she was a kid.”

Hunter tilted his head. Ethan’s mother used to live in this neck of the woods?

Sarah must have heard the caution in Ethan’s voice. “Sorry, that sounded weird. It’s just… an impression I had. You look like her. In a good way, I mean. My car died when I was driving through east Texas, maybe ten years back. Your mom fixed it up for a song.”

Ethan still didn’t relax. Hunter didn’t either.

“What kind of car?” Ethan said.

“A Taurus. An ’87 Taurus. One of the originals. It was an oldhand-me-down that no one in the family had taken care of. The thing overheated when I was driving back from a conference, and when the tow truck finally came, the driver said the only town nearby with a decent mechanic was a little place called Ellersby. I’d barely started teaching courses and your mom must have seenbrokewritten all over my face. She had the problem fixed in ten seconds and hardly charged me a dime. I’ve never left a mechanic feeling like I owed themmore.”

“What was the problem?” Ethan said.

“Something with the radiator fan, I think? Apparently, those early models had an issue with their fan motors. By the time I was driving mine, they’d started to fail left and right.”

“I see.”

“Your mom was a good person,” Sarah said. “How’s she doing? How’s the shop?”