Barbara Phinney - Silent Protector

Suppressing a yawn, Ian rubbed his face. He felt like something the cat dragged in. While George liked to stay up late, watching TV until after midnight, Ian napped in the evening and spent the rest of the night next door, working on the program the Vincentis had hired him to implement, all the while watching the Wilson trailer.

Those short bouts of sleep were catching up with him. He hadn’t expected any trouble before Liz showed up, and now that Charlie’s location was compromised, sleep would be even more elusive.

Ian’s supervisor wanted Charlie to remain on the island as bait. And with the storm coming, all flights were cancelled, all roads plugged with residents already leaving, going to fully booked hotels inland. Most of the villagers here couldn’t afford that luxury and would wait until the shelters opened. Getting Charlie off the island would be easy. Finding a place for him much harder. And he needed Liz to go, too, or Charlie might sink back into his silence again.

He sighed, knowing he couldn’t fool himself. There was another reason for not wanting to have Charlie and Liz removed, and Ian knew it. He’d never given up on a case. He’d never been removed from a case. He’d been one hundred percent successful at cases worse than this one.

Ian trudged into his house, not bothering with the lights, even though night had fallen. He lived next door to the Wilsons, and on the other side was the Callahan house. Stephen Callahan, one of several boys just a bit younger than Charlie, had latched on to the boy as a playmate. But tonight, their house was dark. Leo Callahan had managed to secure work at the resort’s work site as a general laborer. The work was hard in this heat, so Ian wasn’t surprised to see all the windows open.

There were no streetlights in Moss Point. Down the road, the rec center had a security light out front, for all the good it did, with the dense foliage between the building and the rest of the village. From where Ian stood, he could see the bugs flying in and out of the light’s glowing circle, thick enough to look like snow swirling on a winter’s evening back home in Virginia.

He’d seen plenty of snow the winter that came to mind. He’d taken off from his uncle’s house. Uncle Ed hadn’t wanted his younger brother’s bad kid, and that winter, Ian had had enough of the abuse. The snow that night had been thick, flying past the streetlights as Ian had walked the town until dawn.

Shaking off the unpleasant memories, Ian looked out at the middle window, just past the small deck. A blurry silhouette walked past the high, small window. Liz was preparing for bed. A moment later, the light winked out.

He turned away, flopped onto his couch and shut his eyes.

Something jerked him awake.

A yell. A loud and insistent dog barking. A glance at his watch told him that two hours had passed. He then looked over at the front window, thinking it odd to see a flickering, orange glow outside.

He leaped up. A house was on fire!

The Wilsons! Ian bolted out the door, his gaze shooting to the house on his left. But their small home was quiet and dark. Ian spun around.

The Callahans! Leo was running outside, dropping a small child on the ground out front. He turned and raced back in the door. Ian tore across the thin, scruffy lawn to snatch the little girl, Stephen’s younger sister, away to safety.

By then, Elsie was hurrying along the road, her house-coat flapping. Ian shoved the child in her arms. He practically ran into Leo on his way through the door. This time the man carried a sleepy Stephen in his arms.

“Who else is in here? Where’s Jenny?” Ian asked.

At that moment, Jenny appeared at the door. Ian took Stephen in his arms, tossing the boy over his shoulder. At the same time, he pulled Jenny Callahan away from the house.

“It’s in the back bedroom!” Leo gasped out. He had an oddly deep voice for a skinny man. “That’s where it started!”

Jenny grabbed her son. Elsie came close, still holding her daughter, and pulled the mother and child away from the house.

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