Page 90 of Until Landon
We sit with his comment for a few minutes. I close my eyes and try to forget what is ahead.
“Oh shit!” Hunter hollers.
“What? You scared me!”
“That guy that followed you into the bathroom at the bar, you said his name was Oscar, right?”
Hunter holds his cell between the seats turned toward me. A chill runs up my spine when I see the familiar face of the man being led away in handcuffs, and the headline’s text.
“What about him?” Landon says.
“The man’s a serial rapist! Holy shit!” The cell is angled for Landon to see.
“What does it say?”
“Oscar Delong was arrested and charged with twelve counts of forcible sexual assault and is being held without bail. The alleged “Quiet Man Rapist” was under surveillance when he was apprehended attempting to break into a victim’s home. Authorities across four counties have searched for the suspect for ten years.”
“Under my window. Could it have been a man standing there?”
“Maybe. I didn’t see a footprint, but there was a lot of standing water from the storm.”
“Oh my God.”
“DeLong is alleged to have started his string of violent crimes in the summer of twenty-thirteen. But it was information gathered in a botched attempt in May of this year, which allowed the police to track the suspect.”
“Jesus!”
Landon reaches for me, and our fingers thread.
“You stopped him,” Hunter says, putting a hand on Landon’s shoulder for a moment.
In a surprising move, my son does what I want to. It brings tears to my eyes. He hides behind his hands and tries controlling the emotions that threaten to burst. Landon looks through the rearview mirror and sees what’s happening.
“Hey, it’s okay man. They got him. We’ll both keep her safe now.”
I reach back and take his hand.
“Honey! I’m okay.”
“I should have put the lights up when you asked,” he says, shaking his head. “I fucked up.”
“Wefucked up,” Landon says.
Hunter raises his head and our eyes meet. I feel the love.
The Hop Hotel looks as the name suggests. The exterior, the décor, the front desk, everything looks like nineteen fifties America. It is just what we needed. Distraction. Landon hands his credit card to the senior citizen beebopper in a poodle skirt.
“Thank you, sir.”
“This is the hotel you requested, right Hunter?“
“Very funny.”
“This place is charming.”
“We’re in the Matrix,” Hunter says, picking up an old record leaning against a planter.
“Who’s Connie Frances?”
