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October Twilight (A Year in Paradise Book 10)




  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Keep Up With Hildred

  October Twilight

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  October Twilight

  A Year In Paradise #10

  Hildred Billings

  BARACHOU PRESS

  October Twilight

  Copyright: Hildred Billings

  Published: October 10th, 2019

  Publisher: Barachou Press

  This is a work of fiction. Any and all similarities to any characters, settings, or situations are purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

  Keep up with Hildred’s latest releases by joining her mailing list! Behind the scenes, first looks, and even some free snippets!

  October Twilight

  Chapter 1

  SALLY

  If her kids didn’t shut the heck up, Sally was gonna slam on the brakes and turn that car around. She didn’t care if they were halfway to the library. If Paige, Gage, Tucker, and the baby didn’t get their acts together, this whole car was heading back to Florida Street.

  “He’s touching me!” Paige squirmed out of her seatbelt, elbow flying toward the baby’s face. “Mom! Make him stop touching me!”

  “It’s a right mess back there.” Tucker slid down the passenger seat beside his mother. A well-worn 3DS popped up in front of his face. “The natives are restless.”

  “Mom!”

  “I ain’t touchin’ her!” Gage had the quietest voice in the family, but that only meant he screamed louder to be heard. “She’s the one all up in my space!”

  All up in my… Where had her six-year-old son learned a phrase like that? How out of touch was Sally that she had made it to forty-six and didn’t remember when phrases like “all up in my space” became such common vernacular that little kids out in the sticks said them?

  “Mom!”

  Sally slammed on the breaks at the four-way stop separating Colorado Street from Sixth Street. She turned so quickly that her seatbelt pulled her against the driver’s seat. The only reason her kids didn’t laugh at the sight of Sally attempting to turn around and death-glare some sense into them was because they knew it would only make it worse.

  “Gage Greenhill!” She wagged her finger in her son’s face. Beside him, his twin sister kept a snicker behind her hand. Oh, she wasn’t getting away with her noise, either. The only one getting away with anything was baby Daisy, and that was because she was barely over a year old. Anyone still in a child seat probably didn’t understand reason very well. “You leave your sister alone, young man. Remember what your other mom and I said about respecting boundaries and personal space? I don’t care how small this car is or how big you’re getting. There are ways to sit next to your siblings without making them uncomfortable!” Her finger moved toward Paige, who had fallen into a fit of giggles that made her light brown braid fall in front of her face. “As for you, missy, you need to realize that your brother ain’t gonna get out of touching you when we’re all packed in here like sardines. Now, if he’s going out of his way to mess with you, that’s one thing…”

  “He was totally…”

  “Was he putting his hand on your leg or blowing wind into your ear again? No? I’m sorry, hon, I can’t stop his leg from rubbing up against yours. Maybe if we get a new car…”

  Before Sally could get too wistful about things beyond her financial range, someone honked their horn behind her.

  “Shit!” Sally pressed the gas pedal and cruised through the four-way stop. She had missed her turn about three times, and the person behind her was not happy about the hold-up.

  Too bad she hadn’t looked both ways before crossing the intersection.

  “Whoa!” Tucker dropped his 3DS onto the floor of the front seat. The momentum of the car was in full throttle as Sally sailed down Colorado Street before another car had the chance to T-bone them. Wild honks sounded in the distance. A man shouted in their direction. Sally hoped to God that he didn’t see the bumper sticker affiliating her with Paradise Valley’s only full-time law enforcement officer.

  The car quieted as they continued down Colorado Street. Houses passed. Trucks and cars parallel parked along the sidewalk turned into blurs. Although her heart calmed down, Sally kept her teeth clamped and her eyes glued onto the road before them. She was supposed to turn left back at the intersection and swing onto Main Street, the fastest way to get to the library. Unfortunately, she was so rattled from what happened that she almost missed her next turn.

  “Heh…” Gage snickered. “Mom said a bad word.”

  Thankfully, that was all anyone said the rest of the way to the library.

  They were lucky that Paradise Valley Public Library was open on Saturdays, albeit for much shorter hours. They were not as lucky that the weekend shift had been picked up by the head librarian (and the only one to get a decent wage around there) who always made a big deal about the Greenhills rolling through the door and ransacking the children’s section.

  Sally only wanted to put down her bag at one of the community tables and rock her baby in her carrier. The twins were old enough to pick out books for themselves, and Tucker would either grab some Hardy Boy mysteries or pretend nobody saw him poke through Babysitter’s Club collections over on the “girl’s” side. “I like the drama,” he once told his parents, who didn’t say anything disparaging about his reading choices but were certainly intrigued by them. “Girls get the best drama in their books! Like those shows you watch, Ma!”

  That would have been asking for the world to offer a small kindness. The library was crowded that Saturday. Too crowded for the three older Greenhill kids to own the children’s section. The community college students commandeered the big tables. The Stephen King book club dominated the back room. A few other mothers had brought their kids to check out some books. Or maybe they were looking for free babysitting while they ran down to the store.

  No matter what, the Greenhills appearing was the final straw for librarian Yi.

  “Oh, no.” She dropped a stack of books she had been returning to the cookbook section. “Watch out for that little boy’s hands! Last time he went through the picture books, he left them all sticky! I had to clean and clean!”

  Everyone in the library, including the adults with their headphones on, turned to look at Gage and his mother. Gage had a particular habit whenever he came to the library. One that Sally had completely forgotten about in her exhaustion.

  The boy loved his little peppermint candies. That in itself wasn’t an issue – although Sally had been struggling to get him to cut back, for his teeth’s sake – but it was what he did with the candy that drove everyone crazy.

  When he wasn’t gnashing them with his front teeth, lips wide open, of course, he was pulling them out of his mouth. Those sticky fingers soon ended up on every surface around him, from counters to books on the library shelves.

  “Gage,” Sally said, elbow slumped against the table. Besi
de her, Frankie Delacour’s brother, a young man named Dominic, pretended to not notice the baby plopped down in front of him. “Please don’t eat your candy when in the library. You and your sister need to go wash your hands in the bathroom first, anyway.” Probably for the best. Sally had no idea where those hands had been in the morning while she tended to the garden and made lunch. The twins followed her everywhere. If she were in the garden, they were hunting for worms. If she were inside, they were throwing their toys around and poking through the garbage “looking for treasures.” During the calm of the day, Sally would sit back and think that nothing truly made her happier than having four kids in rural America.

  Then she would drag their asses into town and ended up wondering if she could wipe them from existence!

  Tucker minded his business in the YA section while the twins ran off to the bathroom. Sally closed her eyes and tried not to fall asleep. She wouldn’t have the luxury, anyway. As soon as she heaved a sigh of quiet relief, she heard the screams of a pair of twins up to no good.

  “What the…” Yi snapped her head toward Sally. “What are they doing in there? I just cleaned those bathrooms!”

  Sally dragged herself out of the chair, leaving her baby behind on the table. She completely forgot about Daisy until she was in front of the men’s bathroom – because of course both twins went in there – beholding the mischief her six-year-olds were up to.

  “Look!” Paige shoved her brother aside and stuck both of her hands into the bottom of the men’s urinal. “It makes a mess!”

  It sure did.

  ***

  The shopping cart ambled down the eight aisles of Paradise Valley’s only decent supermarket. Fluorescent lights buzzed. The clattering of carts and wheelchairs pounded into the earth. People having loud conversations sputtered out their “reckons” and ‘dang-nabbits.” Jars of spaghetti sauce banged against the floor.

  Ah, that last one was technically Sally’s fault.

  Because she was in charge of those darn kids getting rowdy in the pasta aisle. Of course it was her kids. Paige and Gage had apparently snuck into the family’s supply of sugar that morning. It was the only explanation for them hanging from the rafters and whooping like two crazy hellions straight from the demon himself.

  The worst thing about the twins when they got this way was how they influenced their big brother. Tucker put on a good show of acting older than he was at nearly-nine, but his age still made him susceptible to childish tomfoolery. When Paige and Gage started chasing each other up and down the bread aisle and threw oranges in the produce section, he was as likely to tell them to knock it off as he was to join in – until Sally found out, anyway. That was the major difference between her oldest and the twins. Tucker was born with an innate sense of guilt. The twins were in their own world of gassing each other up before eventually turning on one another. Sally had no idea what Daisy would be like when she finally joined their ranks of playtime. She didn’t want to know.

  Right now, Tucker looked between the oranges and peaches. After all, his mother hadn’t said anything yet, and the twins were having a blast pressing their thumbs into the hard skin of the oranges. It wasn’t until Sally rolled up and narrowed her eyes at Tucker that he finally swung around and barked at the twins to pull themselves together.

  “Thanks.” Sally grabbed one of her reusable produce bags and sifted through the cauliflower heads. “You’re a big, help, Tu…”

  “Can I get a donut?”

  Ah, yes. He wanted a reward for keeping the family out of trouble. If it were only the two of them, Sally would indulge her oldest with a donut. Yet in the company of the twins, who heard the word donut, Sally couldn’t condone giving her children any more sugar.

  Which, of course, started a protest of whiny kids around her shopping cart.

  God, I wish Candace were here… For all Sally knew, her wife was off responding to a call about a violent offender at the local Pump ‘N’ Go. Some days are like that… As the only deputy around, Candace spent most of her days at the tiny police station filling out reports, dealing with drunks in lockup, and responding to the occasional traffic accident and report of tomfoolery that extended beyond her kids throwing oranges at the store. But that’s what made her such a good parent! Candace had the voice and the authoritative presence to make everyone, including her kids, listen. And she did it without threatening anyone!

  She ain’t here, ‘cause she’s gotta pay for us. Remember, Sal, this is your role in this family. The caregiver. The cook and cleaner. The laundry folder. The personal driver. The one who showed up to school board and PTA meetings to make sure her four kids got a decent education in their corner of the county. Candace was about the meta of Paradise Valley. She protected her community, which meant protecting her family. Sally? She took care of their family. These four kids and the wife she saw a couple hours a day were her whole world.

  Which meant that she took all the flack when the Greenhill kids went off the deep end.

  She managed to keep herself together long enough to put the dinner groceries in her cart and roll the troops up to the only opened lane. Busybody Anem Singer was on duty, and the first thing she asked Sally as she started ringing up produce was, “Hey, Sal! How you doin’?”

  That was the moment Daisy decided to speak. Not only did she utter a sound, but she let rip a loud, curdling cry that demanded naptime. Now.

  Sally slapped down her wallet and looked Anem in the eye.

  “How do you think I’m doing?”

  Chapter 2

  CANDACE

  They were on their third pot of coffee for the day. Not a record, but close enough that Candace seriously questioned whether she would get any sleep that night.

  Then again, she didn’t usually come into the station on the weekends, unless there was something bad enough going on around town. One of the things that most appealed to her about being promoted to deputy a few years ago was the more stable schedule. Granted, law enforcement wasn’t the career for those looking for a ho-hum 9-5 that let them punch out at the hour and go home for another sixteen. Candace had spent as many Sunday mornings in the station as she had Wednesday nights, mostly because of a drunk driver making a reckless fool of themselves all over her roads.

  Three pots of coffee in as many hours? It was that kind of day.

  “So let me get this straight.” Sheriff Peterson, the only man in the county who knew how to knock Candace back down to Yes, Sirs and No, Sirs, pinched the bridge of his nose and flipped over the last piece of paper to cross the table. “The boy is saying he’s part of a little ring of arsonists, but oh, we’re not supposed to ask any questions beyond what he’s done? I can’t deal with this.” He held out his empty cup. “These damn Millennials are too freakin’ much for me.”

  That coffee cup was Candace’s cue to get up and refill it again. She might as well freshen up her cup as well. Wasn’t like she forgot that Peterson wanted cream and sugar in his. The man had a sweet tooth that was only matched by his love for lactose. “That’s what the Musgrave kid is saying. He cops to the last fire, but he claims that he’s only responsible for two of the six this past year.” She didn’t touch the Millennial comment. Candace wasn’t hip on her generation names – hell, she didn’t know what she was, either! Was she a Gen-Xer or a Boomer? Who kept track of these things? – but she was pretty sure the high schoolers were now some new, young, hip generation. What was it. Gen Z? J? B? Shoot, she could barely remember her ABCs now that she was strung out on caffeine. “He hasn’t given us any names for the others, though. He claims that if he ‘snitches’ he’s gonna get ‘stitches.’ Thought he was all bluff until we really started pushing him to give us some names. Boy was crying and saying that they weren’t from around here. Some ‘bad guys’ he said. Wanted us to think they were out of Portland. Some hoods or gang bangers, I dunno. This is giving me a headache, too.”

  The whole summer had given Deputy Candace Greenhill a headache, albeit for different reasons tha
n before. Last summer, she had raging migraines from the wildfire smoke coming from every direction. Got so bad that the fire marshal was talking about possible evacuations. Luckily, people were so uptight over the possibility of their homes going up in flames that they more or less behaved themselves, giving Candace a chance to do her own preparations should evacuations be on the docket. This summer, though? Arsons!

  They couldn’t get through a whole fortnight without somebody’s barn going up in smoke. Seemed like nobody’s barn was safe, and the fire marshal dragged so much ass with his investigations that, by the time he realized these were intentional fires and not accidents, it was too late. The firebugs were given free rein to destroy structures and kill some livestock. Law enforcement thought they caught a break the last time, though. Two girls were found around the site, and one was not helped by the rumors surrounding her. Instead of taking the fall, however, a confession from the girl’s cousin revealed the truth.

  About that fire, anyway.

  Now, Dillon Musgrave was under house arrest with his electronics confiscated and his reputation around town utterly ruined. Candace hated it had to be that way, but when bad eggs began to stink, they had to be tossed.

  That didn’t mean she thought the boy beyond help, but the most important thing was keeping him watched and segregated from the people urging him to commit acts of arson. It also didn’t explain how these supposed kids from Portland were driving all the way to Paradise Valley to set some fires. Didn’t they have tons of flammable stuff in Portland to light on fire? And make it Portland’s problem?

  Paradise Valley wasn’t exactly rich with human resources. Aside from Candace, there were a couple officers who made the rounds, but for the most part, it was only her – and Peterson, she supposed, but he jaunted all over the whole county, sometimes in a single day. She was in charge of Paradise Valley. This was her town. If she couldn’t control her town, then what good was she to the sheriff’s department?