CHAPTER 25 - Amon

I kiss Rosie Harlow like she really is my wife. Because in my eyes, we did get married. It's a done deal. Oh, we'll be doin' it again, for sure. And it'll be a lot bigger than this. It'll happen on a Wednesday, not a Sunday, and there won't be a single stranger in the crowd.

But I'll happily take this day as a placeholder for that one.

Our kiss lasts just long enough for people to start laughing and clapping. Then, with a lot of reluctance, we pull apart. But not completely apart. I lean down a little so my forehead touches the top of her head and I whisper, just loud enough for Rosie to hear, "Mrs. Parrish, I do believe you are my wife."

Which makes her eyes smile.

But then it's over. There's more to a Revival wedding than the actual wedding. The party is the main attraction. And that starts now.

I take her hand. "Shall we?"

She nods as she puts her hand in mine. And then we run down the aisle, stopping at the edge of the sawdust so we can turn and she can throw the bouquet.

My sisters are wild for catching bouquets. I'm a hundred percent sure there is money on this toss, because they practically break out in a fight. There's actually a moment when Vangie is on top of Halo, but then someone pulls her off and Halo stands up, bouquet in hand, arms stretched high, grinning like a winner.

Everyone claps.

And then I lead Rosie over to Old Man Hunt's 1933 Rolls Royce Phantom II—which is the only vehicle ever allowed to operate on Revival grounds during a show—and we get in. Our chauffeur is Old Man Hunt himself. He looks back at us and tips his hat. Then we roll, goin' about five miles an hour down the dirt road between storefront tents, and all the Disciple children jog along beside us.

We end up at the tea party tent—which has been transformed into the wedding reception tent—and we get out and stand at the front like every dutiful bride and groom, greetin' people as they pass by.

There are several hundred people here today so we stand there a good hour saying hello, but once that's done, the band starts playing—a bluegrass band, of course—and we have our first dance to the tune of ‘Can the Circle Be Unbroken,' which is neither slow nor fast. But since every child in Disciple takes dancin' classes from the age of three to twelve, I break into a nice little flatfoot dance, which is something halfway between clogging and tapping.

Rosie knows more steps than I do, so she doesn't even blink at my choice. And pretty soon the whole tent is clapping along. But as soon as that song ends, our first dance officially over, there is a mad rush for the dance floor and we spend the next couple of hours jigging around elbow to elbow, even breaking into a few more formal square dances every now and then.

It's a party and everyone's having fun. But eventually, six o'clock comes and this means that the Revival is officially over and all the guests who are not performers need to go.

So the festivities wind down and Rosie and I stand at the front gate like a good bride and groom and thank everyone for coming.

It takes a while for the grounds to be cleared out, but eventually it quiets down and we walk, hand in hand, to the park by the river in the back of the grounds where everyone is hanging out for the fireworks show.

The tourists are welcome to stay in town for this part of the show, and most of them do. But it's been a long day for us and that's why the park is here. It's a place for us, the townspeople and performers in this show we call the Revival, to be alone.

"That was nice," Rosie says.

And I just smile. "Rosie, I can't remember the last time I had this much fun. I mean, when Collin and Lowyn had their fun day, it was pretty cool. Especially since I was newly home again. But today beats that out hands down. I think I owe Jim Bob a pretty big favor to make up for this."

"So you really did plan all this as a date?"

When I look down at her, her eyes are wide. "I really did."

"And now what? I mean…" She shrugs up one shoulder. "We've done all the towns now. You've visited me—in costume—at every single one."

"Well… if you don't have a next step in mind, then I'll just tell you what I'm thinking. I'm thinking you and Cross move in with me and we do this day all over again at some point in the future. Only this time, we do it legal."

She lets go of my hand so she can grip my arm, and then she hugs it, leaning her head on my shoulder. "I think that's a pretty good idea."

"Even the movin' in part? I figured that'd be a stickin' point with you since you're so… you know, independent."

"Well, if that were my house and not Lowyn's I might tell you to move in with me. But it's not. And that house of yours really is yours. So I think that's where we belong."

"That's good?—"

"Hey." Rosie interrupts me, looking around. "Where's Cross?"

I look around as well. "Hmm. Must be with those friends of his."

"No." Rosie is looking at a group of kids off to the left, all about Cross's age. "Those are his friends right there." She puts a hand on my shoulder. "Hold that thought about the shacking up." We both chuckle. "I'm just gonna go ask them where he is. brB."

I wait, watching as she walks away, appreciating her back view. Even this late in the day, she looks gorgeous in that dress. I'm just starting to daydream about how I might take it off her when we get home when she reaches the group of kids, all of whom stand at attention. There is some nodding, then some head shaking. Every one of them begins looking around.

And watching this, even unable to hear what they are saying, I know something is wrong and my stomach clenches up with dread.

"Cross!" Rosie starts calling for him. The sound is distant from here, but still plenty loud and I can hear the restrained panic in her voice. "Cross!"

Then she's rushing in my direction and I'm meeting her halfway. "What's wrong?"

"He's missing, Amon. Cross is missing. His friends haven't seen him since the wedding ended."

"What?" Now I look around too. "But that was like six hours ago." I walk over to the kids, who are still standing at attention. "When was the last time you saw Cross? And I want specifics."

They all start talking at once, but they're all saying the same thing so I don't bother telling them to go one at a time. "The last time we saw him," a tall boy with freckles says, "was inside the church. Right about the time your sisters were fighting for the bouquet."

I turn back to Rosie and she's about to scream. "Don't panic."

"Don't panic! What the hell was I thinking? I have a stalker pretending to be my son's father and I didn't have eyes on him today! I just…" She scoffs. "I just went about my day, pretending to get married, and now my son is missing! So do not tell me not to panic, Amon Parrish! I am not overreacting!"

"No, that's not what I meant, Rosie."

"Cross!" She's not listening to me. In fact, she starts running off, back to the Revival grounds.

I realize in this same moment that it's gotten dark. Not just twilight, but actual dark, and this is the signal for the fireworks to start. The shrieking whistles of the launch followed by the booming of light and sizzle of burning explosives overpowers her desperate calls. And this makes her panic for real. She stops in place, bending over as she yells his name.

People come running, realizing that something is wrong, and I'm just… stuck here.

Again.

Just like I was in the cafeteria that day.

Unable to do anything but watch.

Two hours later there is still no sign of Cross. We're sitting out on Rosie's porch, watching people walk by and listening as they all call Cross's name.

Rosie is beyond comforting. Even now, sitting on the front steps, she is on edge. Leaning forward, unable to relax.

I rub her back, but she stiffens. "Don't. I don't want to be touched right now, Amon. My boy is missing."

The only reason she came home was to change out of her dress, so now she's wearing her typical summer outfit of shorts and a tank top. The only reason she's here and not out there yelling with the rest of them is because Abel Bettington, the police chief, told her Cross might try and call the landline so someone needed to be there to answer.

It's actually a very good point because the landline is harder to trace. Though Collin is already on that and it won't be that way for long. He's also called in our whole company of men to help with the search, but we both know we're not gonna find Cross.

Not like that.

The hours tick off, people start to go home. And a little bit past midnight, Abel comes.

We both stand up, Rosie wringing her hands as she waits to see what he's got to say.

Abel takes off his hat before he speaks to her. "Rosie, we're all going home now and we'll pick it up when it gets light out."

"No!" She stays this emphatically. "If you guys go home, I'll go looking."

Abel shakes his head. "He's not here , Rosie. We've been through the whole town. We've searched every house, we've been up in the woods. Whoever took him took him away ."

She's about to lay in to him, but I step in front of her. "Thanks, Abel. Collin will probably keep our guys stationed around town just in case, if that's all right."

Probably, normally, this would not be all right. But Abel's in no position to argue. So he just nods at me and looks to Rosie. "I'll be here at first light. We'll call in the Feds, we'll do whatever it takes, Rosie. I promise."

There will be no Feds. Edge Security is gonna handle this. But none of us are in any mood to hammer out specifics, so I let it go and Abel turns and walks back the way he came.

"Come on. We should go inside and get some rest too." I take Rosie's hand, but she shakes me off.

" No , Amon. I'm staying right here on this porch. I'm not going inside and sleeping. Not while my son is missing." She's not looking at me when she says this. And there's a moment of silence after she finishes. But then I hear her whisper, "Erol. This is Erol." She turns to me now, eyes wide and red. "He took him. He came here to take him and he's done. And he's gonna get away with it, too. Because he knows how to disappear. He's done it before. How hard could it be? I'm never gonna see my son again, Amon. Never."

She and I stare at each other for a few moments. And I want to tell her that it's not Erol. Because Erol is dead.

But I know better than most that dead men don't always stay that way. Not because of anything supernatural, but because there are really two levels to this world we live in.

Two totally different realities. There are people who live in this one, the one we're in. The one that has rules and regulations. The one that has congressional hearings. The one that has consequences.

And then there's the world underneath. The black one. The secret one. The one run by men like Charlie Beaufort and filled with others like Collin Creed.

And me.

I lived in that other world for nearly a decade before it came apart at the seams, so I know it's there. And I know that when a man goes missing and comes back dead when you run a background check a dozen years later, it's just paperwork.

That's all it is. Just paperwork.

I spend the night sittin' on the porch steps, leaning my head against the railing as Rosie sits in the glider behind me. She stays up for a good while, but when I look over my shoulder around four a.m., I find her slumped over and sleeping.

Erol is not dead. This has to be him. What other reason could there be to take this boy?

I stand up, debate with myself on the pros and cons of trying to rouse Rosie and get her up to bed, and decide to let her be. She's exhausted, scared, and sad. The last thing she needs is for me to interrupt her sleep.

But I need to stay awake and my eyes are getting heavy, so I quietly go inside, being careful not to let the screen door slap, and rustle up myself a cup of coffee.

I check on Rosie, find her still sleeping, and then decide to take a look in Cross's bedroom for clues because I suddenly realize that's something we forgot to do. Rosie was convinced it was Erol right away, so it's not like we started thinking he was a runaway and needed secret information he might've been hoarding.

Clearly, this was a kidnapping.

Or was it?

So I go into the room, flick on the light, and find a twelve-year-old boy's room. There's a messy stack of homework on the desk, clothes everywhere, unmade bed, and it smells like a locker room.

My nose crinkles up in protest, and I'm just about to turn around and flick the light back off because this room is really none of my business when I spy something familiar yet out of place on the desk.

I reach for the paper and realize it's the first puzzle Erol sent to Rosie. The one she never showed me because it's been here at the house the whole time. This one is an extreme dot-to-dot puzzle. It doesn't have numbers, but letters in what looks to be a couple of different languages at least.

I don't know any of these languages—none of them are in English—but it doesn't matter because the puzzle has been solved. The dots are connected. And it's not a picture. It's a message.

Dear Rosie,

I am not dead.

I need to talk to you.

Meet me at our spot by the river. You remember where.

June nineteenth. Six p.m.

I'll explain everything.

The first puzzle was a letter to Rosie asking for a meeting—which she clearly missed because she didn't solve this puzzle, Cross did. My eyes flit across the desk looking for more clues, and sure enough, there's another envelope. This one is not addressed to Rosie, it's addressed to Cross, and there's no postmark. It was hand-delivered. There's also no letter. Whatever was sent, Cross took it with him.

Cross hasn't been here for days, so this letter came in before they came to stay with me. Before Rosie found that letter on her pillow.

She didn't look in Cross's room that night. No one looked in Cross's room that night. He got a letter too, we just didn't know it.

And this explains why he was so happy to come stay at the compound and why he was so agitated for Friday night bowling, insisting that he was ready to grow up right now and do important things.

What if Erol was spying on us? What if Erol knew that Cross was antsy? What if the letter or puzzle he sent Cross was some kind of invitation?

If Erol Cross is coming up dead in Penny Rider's database, but isn't, in fact, dead, then he's military. He's black ops, just like we were.

Honestly, six months ago I'd have thought this idea to be ridiculous. Even though I was black ops and I know it's real, I would have a hard time thinking lightning might strike twice in the same place. I mean, what are the odds that some random missing boy was never missing at all, he was just recruited?

It's a movie plot.

But after Blackberry Hill, I'm not so sure it's actually that farfetched.

And if a boy of age twelve who is eager to make his way in the world gets an invitation from his missing daddy to join him in some secret something or other, might said boy find this to be a grand opportunity? And might said boy agree to meet this daddy of his to hear more about this exciting offer?

I turn around and blow out a breath.

This is what happened. Erol, sensing I was coming between him and using Rosie to get to his son, went straight to Cross instead.

Because he doesn't need Rosie to agree to anything if Cross wants to see his father. He does, after all, have some rights. Whether he deserves them or not is another story and there might be a fight in court. But if Erol is involved in things like Collin and I were involved in, and he's got the balls to show up like this… well. He's sorted out a deal. He's made plans and gotten them approved. He will fight and he will have powerful people on his side.

He could, in fact, just take Cross and leave Rosie behind.

This would tear Rosie Harlow in half.

She would never agree to it.

If Erol won the right to keep Cross, and he made her an offer to come with them, what would she do?

I huff out some air. Because I know damn well what she would do.

She would leave me so fast, my head would spin.

I force myself to wait until seven a.m. before I call Collin. I figure I'll be waking him up, but he answers on the first ring and there's so much noise in the background, he's gotta yell. "Hello!"

"Collin?"

"What? Amon? Hold on a second." He must cover the phone because things get all muffled. And then the horrendous background noise abruptly cuts off. "Sorry," he says, kinda out of breath. "Amon, is that you?"

"Yes, it's me. I got a problem."

"We need to talk."

"I know. My problem?—"

"No. I don't mean your problem. We gotta talk about this fuckin' mine."

I'm confused. "Mine? What?"

" The mine. The old mine. The one Sawyer was poking around that week?"

"Oh, right. I'd forgotten about that." I wave a hand in the air. "Forget the mine. Forget that asshole too. Cross is missing, Collin. We gotta get back on this."

"Oh, I know. I just sent twenty-five men back to Disciple so they can start searching."

"Right. Well?—"

"Amon?"

I turn and find Rosie standing in the front doorway looking all disheveled and blurry-eyed. I cup my phone with my hand. "Hey. The search is gonna get started soon?—"

"They're not gonna find anything."

Despite the fact that I agree with her, I can't let her go down this path. So I say, "You don't know that, Rosie."

"I do. He took him. Erol took him. He's not dead. I don't care what your people say. He's just not. This is all him, I know it. I feel it in my soul."

"Amon!"

Collin is yelling at me so I put the phone back up to my ear. "What? Yeah. I'm here."

"I gotta go. We're opening up the mine. You need to get here."

"I can't, Collin. I gotta stay here with Rosie."

She breezes past me, heading towards her bedroom. "No, you don't, Amon. If Collin needs you, you should go. Because I'm gonna take a shower and go to work."

"Work?" I say this loud because I'm like… what the fuck? "You're not going to work, Rosie! Cross is missing."

She whirls around, angry. "He's not missing. We know who he's with. And he's not coming back until Erol brings him back. I need to get the hell out of this house, so I'm going to work at the diner. Because if I stay here I'm gonna cry my eyes out and lose my mind."

I don't say anything back to that and we just stare at each other for a second. Then she turns and goes up the steps to her bedroom.

"Amon!" Collin is yelling again.

"What? Yeah, I'm here."

"Get here! I'm telling you, you gotta see this."

"Wait!" I say this quickly because I know he's about to hang up.

"What?"

"Did you call Charlie?"

"About the mine? Fuck no."

"Oh, my God. Shut up about that fuckin' mine. The boy, Collin. Cross Harlow. Did you call Charlie and ask him to help us? Because at this point, I'm a hundred percent positive that Erol Cross is connected to this Blackberry Hill shit."

"No, Amon. I didn't call Charlie about Cross."

"Well, could you? Could you at least ask him to help us?"

Collin blows out a breath. "Well, of course. Yeah. But I don't know what he can do, Amon. This kid is not connected to us."

"He's connected to me , Collin."

"Well… I get that you and Rosie are kind of a thing. But Charlie Beaufort isn't gonna make waves in his little black-ops boardroom over a missing Disciple boy who is not yours, Amon."

I don't say anything. I know he's right, but I'm pissed about it. And when I'm pissed, it's better that I don't say anything.

Collin knows me well, so he gets this and starts backtracking. "Look, I don't mean it that way. But you know what I had to promise to get that man to help me save Lowyn. You know it was a bad deal, Amon."

"I don't care. I'll make that promise too. Just… call him. Just ask."

After a short pause, Collin relents with a sigh. "Fine. I'll call him right now and call you back."

The call ends and I exhale, then say a little prayer. Which I am not one to do, but it's just an automatic thing when shit starts going sideways. I go outside and pace the porch, wondering how yesterday could've been so fun and we were so happy and now everything is falling apart.

My phone buzzes and I answer. "Yeah."

Collin sighs, so I know it's bad news. "He said no. He's not gonna help. He said there's no scenario in which he could interfere here."

"Not even if I agreed to work for him on his personal projects?"

"He said it was out of the question. That he's replaced you already."

"What about you? You owe him ten hours."

"Yeah, I know. I asked him and he said he's got nothing for me right now. So he's saving me up for a rainy day, Amon. I'm sorry. He can't help. But if you really think this Erol guy is connected to Blackberry Hill, then you should get up here."

"Why?"

"Because this mine isn't a mine, Amon. It's something else."

Just as he says that, Rosie comes out the door. "I'll call you back, Collin." Then I end the call and turn to Rosie. She's wearing her waitress uniform and her hair is all pulled up in the usual diner style.

She and I look at each other awkwardly for a moment. Then she says, "You can stay here. I'll be back around one." And that's it. She walks right past me and a minute later, she's backing out of the driveway.

I don't know what to do next, but I'm tired and I don't feel like going home because… well, I just have this bad feeling that if I leave here, I'll never come back.

So I go inside, get my coffee, and sit down on the couch to wait for news.