Deadline (Sandra Brown)

through to the verdict, I guess. After that, I don’t know. Harriet keeps calling, but I don’t answer. I may already be fired.”
    “May not be a bad thing.”
    “May not.”
    “How are you doing otherwise?”
    “I got a lot of sun yesterday.”
    “Sleeping better?”
    “The sound of the ocean has a lulling effect. Look, I’m down to one bar. If my phone cuts out…”
    Headly gave another grunt that said he knew Dawson was skirting the issue, but he wasn’t going to waste limited cell phone service beating a dead horse.
    “Don’t get mad if you can’t reach me,” Dawson said. “On my way from the mainland, the ferry captain told me that cell service on the island is unreliable on good days. When a storm blows in, forget it.”
    *  *  *
     
    Shortly after eight o’clock that evening a lightning bolt knocked out the power in Amelia’s house, plunging it into darkness.
    “Mommy?” Grant said tremulously.
    “It’s okay.” Her reassurance was drowned out by the booming thunder.
    Fortunately they were all gathered around the kitchen table playing Chutes and Ladders. Had she and Stef not been within reach, the boys would have been even more frightened than they were. Grant left his chair and climbed onto her lap. Stef reached across the corner of the table and took Hunter’s hand.
    Amelia had thought the afternoon would never end. She’d managed to rinse the sand from Hunter’s eye, but he’d squalled through the process. To soothe him afterward, she’d made him and Grant cups of cocoa and marshmallows.
    Paintboxes and pads of paper were brought out, and those had kept them entertained for a while. Hunter painted a seascape featuring her, himself, his brother, Stef, and a tall, shirtless figure with shoulder-length yellow hair sticking out from a baseball cap.
    “That’s Dawson,” he told her proudly. “I’m gonna paint a battleship and give it to him, too.”
    Not wanting to incite another trauma, she didn’t tell him it was unlikely he would ever see his hero again.
    She and Stef stretched dinner out for as long as possible, killing time until they could put the boys to bed. They had agreed to play one more round of the board game before taking them upstairs.
    And now the lights had gone out.
    “Everything’s fine,” she said brightly. “There’s a flashlight in that big bottom drawer.” She tried to get up, but Grant clung to her. “No, Mommy, hold me.” She carried him with her and got the flashlight from the drawer. She clicked it on. “See? This is an adventure. Grant, you can help me check the fuse box. Maybe the lightning just tripped the breaker switch.”
    But after she flipped every switch with no success, Grant said dolefully, “The ’lectricity isn’t working.”
    “No it’s not, but we have flashlights.”
    She went through the house collecting them. But they had to use them continually in order to keep the boys’ fear of the storm at bay. Soon the flashlights began to weaken and then to go out one by one.
    “I’ve just used our last two batteries,” she confided to Stef. “We’ll need more before morning.”
    “Maybe Bernie has some to spare.”
    Amelia went to the window above the sink and looked out. “His house is completely dark. He’s probably sleeping.”
    Hesitantly, Stef said, “We have another neighbor.”
    Amelia looked toward Dawson’s house. “His piece-of-crap car isn’t there,” she muttered. With unreasonable annoyance, she asked, “Where could he be on a night like tonight?”
    Stef offered to start gathering up candles.
    She had to take their only remaining working flashlight with her, leaving Amelia and the boys huddled around the kitchen table in the dark. She suggested they see how many rounds of “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” they could sing before Stef returned, but their voices faltered each time the kitchen was filled with a silvery flash of lightning and a cannon blast of thunder.
    After several minutes, Stef returned to the kitchen with four tapers and three votives. Putting a match to a vanilla-scented candle, she said cheerfully, “It’ll start to smell good in here.”
    With the candle lit, Amelia switched off the flashlight. Grant whimpered. “Turn it back on.”
    “We need to save the batteries, sweetheart.”
    He lay his cheek against her chest.
    Hunter said, “He’s such a baby.”
    “Hunter.”
    “I’m not a baby!”
    Amelia ran her hand over his hair. “Well, it’s bedtime anyway. After you close