"Fixing a sink," Tillman answered. He started toward the door, stopped, set the toolbox down, and disappeared into his bedroom briefly. He had a .357 tucked away that he didn't want the kid to stumble upon and play around with. He kept it loaded. It was a heavy, familiar constant in his life.

"You can turn up the heat if you're cold. Help yourself if you get hungry. I'll be back soon," he said on his way out the door. "Thanks for keeping watch, kid." And then he was gone.