High Noon

her. “Didn’t expect our first overnight would end up with us both fully dressed.”
    “Duncan? I want to say that I appreciate the fact that you shovel away the crap when I get into one of those get-away-and-let-me-do-this-all-by-myself spells.”
    He smiled into her hair. “I’m going to buy a couple of spare shovels tomorrow.”
    “That sounds like a good idea.” She took his hand in hers, pressed it between her breasts.
    And within moments, Essie proved right. Phoebe did sleep better with him there.

23
    With Carly curled in her lap, Phoebe rocked and stroked as she used to when Carly was a baby. She knew what it was like to lose a father, to be told he was gone and never coming back. The hitch and jolt of it, the impossibility of the concept of death and forever to a child.
    But she didn’t know, couldn’t know, what it was to lose a father she’d never really had. Or to lose anyone to such sudden and stunning violence.
    No matter how she’d softened or edited the details, it was still horrible. And those details would eke through, like fetid water through a crack in a wall—widening little by little from the whispers of neighbors, the blasts on television, the questions from other children at school.
    There was no shoring it all up, blocking it all out. So it was best, always best, to be as honest as possible.
    “Did it hurt?” Carly asked her.
    “I don’t know. I just don’t know. I hope not.”
    “How come he had to die here when he didn’t live here?”
    “I’m not sure. I’m going to try to find out.”
    Carly nestled in closer. “Is it bad I didn’t love him?”
    “No, baby.” Phoebe could only hold tighter. “No.”
    “I didn’t love him, but I didn’t wish he would die.”
    “I know. Me, too. I know.”
    “Poppy’s granddad died, and she went to the funeral, where he was dead in a big box. Do I have to go to the funeral?”
    “No. I don’t know if there’s going to be one, or where or when. We weren’t…it’s not up to us. If I find out and you want to go—”
    “I don’t. Is that okay? Please, I don’t want to.”
    “That’s fine.” The quick fear in Carly’s voice had Phoebe rocking again. “You’re not to worry about that, sweetie.”
    “What if he hurts you? The man who hurt Roy, what if—”
    “I’m not going to let that happen. Carly—”
    “The other man hurt you. He hurt your face and your arm.” Tears trembled now as Carly rubbed her hands on Phoebe’s cheeks. “What if he comes back and hurts you again, or he kills you like Roy got killed? Mama.”
    “He’s not going to come back and hurt me. The police are going to make sure he doesn’t. Isn’t that what I do, Carly? You have to trust me to take care of you and Gran and Ava, and myself. Even Carter and Josie. We’re going to be careful. Don’t cry now, listen to me. Listen, okay? We’re going to be so careful,” Phoebe said gently. “We’re going to have police right outside the house for a while, even inside if it makes you feel safer.”
    “If he comes into the house, will they shoot him with their guns? Will you?”
    Oh, well, God. “He won’t get into the house. But if he did, we’d do whatever we had to do to be safe. I promise you. We’re all going to be careful, right? So you’ll remember everything I told you about talking to strangers, and getting into someone’s car—even going near the car. No matter what they say to you, no matter what they tell you. What do you do instead of going near the car?”
    “I yell no as loud as I can and I run away.”
    “That’s exactly right. We’re all going to be fine, baby, because I’m going to find out who did this to Roy. Then he’s going to go to prison. And he’ll never get out again.”
    “Will you find out soon?”
    “I’m going to try. And Uncle Dave’s going to try. All the police I work with? They’re all going to try.”
    Satisfied, comforted, Carly laid her head back on Phoebe’s breast. “Are you sad, Mama?”
    “I am. I am sad.”
    “Are you scared?”
    Truth, Phoebe thought—but simple truth. “I’m scared enough to be careful, and to work really hard to find out why this happened. You know what happens when I work really hard?”
    The smallest hint of a smile curved Carly’s lips. “You get the job done.”
    “That’s exactly right.” She gathered Carly close, spoke almost to herself. “That’s exactly right.”
     
    She got the call, and had to go. It was difficult, more difficult