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attention. He bent down for a closer look and found a piece of paper with writing on it. Samuel liked paper, and he liked writing, so he folded it up and stuffed it in the pocket of his jeans.
    You’re not out here to pick up trash.
    He knew that, and it angered him that he could so easily be distracted. Returning to his original course, he took only six more steps and then he was there. His brother still hadn’t moved; he was just a black stain against the night.
    Samuel knelt as close as he could and rested his hand on Jacob’s shirt, hoping that maybe he would feel it and wake up. “I’m really, really sorry, Jacob,” he said. And then, choking back a sob and wiping the snot from his nose, he leaned down and kissed his big brother good-night.

4
    W E’VE GOT TROUBLE , Sue,” Bobby groaned, trying his best to squeeze the terror out of his voice.
    Susan saw the strobing blue shadows and strained to look out the back window. “What do they want?”
    “What do you think?”
    “How could they know? How could they possibly know?”
    Bobby pulled over to the side of the road, nursing a distant hope that the cop behind them might be chasing someone else. Yeah, right. The strobes slipped in behind them.
    “What are you going to do?” Susan asked.
    “I don’t know.”
    Bobby’s mind raced. What were his options? By his calculation, he had exactly none. Maybe this was for the best. They’d done what they’d done, and maybe it was best for them just to fess up to it and face the music.
    Out of nowhere, he remembered the pistol he’d casually tossed onto the passenger seat as he climbed into the truck, and he quickly reached over to get it out of sight. Through his side-view mirror, he saw the cop’s door open, and his heart did a quick somersault. The very last thing he needed was to greet the cop with a gun in his hand. Hesitating for only an instant, he tucked the weapon under his butt and tried to look innocent.
    Ten seconds later, the cop was at the window, and Bobby pressed the button to lower it.
    “Good evening.” To his own ear Bobby sounded petrified.
    The cop shined a flashlight in his eyes. “Howdy.” Next, he shined the flashlight in through the rear window. Bobby noted with a tiny flutter of hope that the man’s weapon was not drawn. “Y’all okay?”
    Hope bloomed even larger. “I think so,” Bobby said, forcing a smile. “Any reason I shouldn’t be?”
    The flashlight came back around, but this time at a less imposing angle, aimed more at his door than his face. “None I can think of. We just don’t get many people driving the roads this time of night. You haven’t had anything to drink tonight, have you, sir?”
    Bobby had to fight off a giddy little laugh as relief washed over him. Could it really be this simple? “No, sir, not a drop. Water and coffee, that’s it.”
    With the light redirected, the top half of the cop’s body was a faceless shadow, but Bobby readily saw the man’s gold badge on the green shirt. This guy wasn’t a cop at all. He was a park ranger. “I see y’all been camping. Is there a reason why you’re bugging out so early?”
    Bobby startled himself with his answer. “I’m afraid the wife’s not cut out for the out-of-doors life. I could stay awake all night explaining sounds, or I could drive us back home. This seemed to make more sense.” He marveled at how easily the lie materialized, and how rational it sounded.
    The ranger laughed. He’d been there, done that. “I don’t suppose you have a camping permit I could look at, do you?”
    This time, honesty served Bobby well. “Yeah, I do, but it’s on my pack in the back. Do you want me to get it for you?”
    The ranger thought about it, but after another quick glance in the backseat, he shook his head. “No, that’s okay. I’ll take your word for it. I’m sorry your trip didn’t work out better for you. Have a good night, and drive carefully for me, will you?”
    “You bet.” Bobby smiled.