In the Shadow of Love

Copyright @ 2012 by TVMProductions

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, Teresa V. M. Stone, writing as Annie Bruce.  All inquiries need to be sent to Teresa V. M. Stone via email at
[email protected]
.

This is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

This edition published in arrangement with Kindle Direct Publishing.

Chapter 1

It was another day in paradise for Maggie Faraday.

“Stop that racket up there.  You’re gonna be late for school.”

Another loud thud on the floor told her she was being ignored.  Maggie stomped her slippered feet across the hardwood surface of the floor to the base of the stairs and yelled even louder.

“If I have to come up there, you two will be sorry.”

A response of giggling then a sudden quiet let her know she had been heard.

“You still got it, old girl!”  The words were said for her own amusement.

She shuffled her feet back towards the kitchen where two unfinished lunches sat on the granite top of the island-style counter.  Her bunny slippers were old, tattered and difficult to walk in, but they comforted her in a way that was, well, comforting.

“Owen Cassidy was found dead yesterday in his Brentwood Heights home.”  The newscaster’s words stopped Maggie abruptly in her tracks.

Only a moment passed before she jolted herself out of her shock at hearing that name.  Scurrying over to the television in the half-family, half-breakfast room, she turned up the volume in a manner that would have caused her to scold her two young children had they done the same.

“
The aging millionaire had been a recluse for the past several years and there was speculation that he was gravely ill.  Sources close to the police said a suicide note was found near the body
.”

Maggie couldn’t believe what she was hearing.  Why, she had seen Owen Cassidy just three days ago and suicide was the last thing on his mind.  Besides, he had looked fit and healthy.  Something was wrong, terribly wrong!

Two bundles of energy bounded down the stairs reminding her of where she was and of her priorities.  Twins Joey and Jacob were a handful.  From the day they were born Maggie knew she would never have another good night’s sleep, and she had been right.

Grabbing the hastily finished lunches and handing them to the boys, Maggie gently but hurriedly guided them out the front door and towards the waiting school bus.

“Where’s the fire, mom!”  Jacob parroted one of her frequently used admonishments.

Taking a deep breath she calmed herself not wanting to alarm her boys as they headed off to school.

“Sorry.  I just have a lot to do today.”  It was the best excuse she could offer.  Jacob looked skeptical but led his twin brother Joey to the bus without looking back.

Watching discretely from the front window, she didn’t turn away until they were safely on the bus.

A pang of guilt worked its way from her stomach to her heart at rushing them out the door.  Despite their insistence that they were old enough to take care of themselves, she still hovered, even if it was in the shadows, to make sure they were safely on their way.  Watching them leave every morning had become her private ritual. 

Of course, discretion was paramount.  The boys were fourth graders after all, and the thought of their mother watching them would be unacceptable.  What would the other children think!  Images of her boys being teased and tortured by the other children made her shiver.

Taking a deep breath as the bus pulled away, she turned back towards the television.  Flipping through the channels, she searched for more news on Owen Cassidy.  Nothing!  She grabbed for the phone and dialed nine-one-one.

“What is your emergency?”  The operator’s voice was well-trained.

“Well, it’s more of an urgency than a true emergency.”  Maggie didn’t mean to sound contrite, but her nervousness over the situation undermined her normally cool composure.

“Ma’am, is this an emergency or not?”  The operator’s voice now sounded exasperated.

“I’m trying to find the person handling the death of Owen Cassidy,”

“Are you sure the person is dead?  Do you need me to send an ambulance?”  The operator was too well-trained.

“No, no, don’t send an ambulance.”  She wished there was an easier way of doing this.  “Can I talk to an investigator?”  That should do it.

“Ma’am, the next time you want to
talk
to someone please call the non-emergency number instead of nine-one-one.”

Maggie felt her checks burn red at being rebuffed.

“Okay, what is the number for non-emergencies?”

“I’ll connect you.”  An audible click sounded as the call was transferred – then silence.

 “Homicide!”  The voice was deep, authoritative, and boomed at her through the earpiece.

“Yes, I’m looking for the person in charge of the Owen Cassidy death case.”  Maggie held her breath, hoping that she had sounded calm and professional enough to the intimidating voice on the other end.

“Ma’am we don’t handle death cases, you have to call the coroner’s office for that.  This is the Homicide Division.”

“But, this is a murder.”

“I thought you said it was a death case.”

“Well, that’s what you people think it is.  I happen to know that it can’t be a suicide.”

“Ma’am, you’re not making any sense.”

“Look, I just want to talk to someone about a suspicious death if that’s possible.”  Now Maggie was losing her patience, although with two energetic boys she was always losing her patience.  One of these days she’d find it again, but the person on the other end wasn’t encouraging that prospect at the moment.

“I–,” another loud click sounded in her ear and then the phone went dead.  No dial tone – nothing – just dead silence.  She stared at the receiver, wondering what to do next when another deep voice boomed across the crackling wires.

“Detective Morris.”

He sounded gruff, but then he did deal with murder and death all day.  She was just grateful she didn’t have to start with the nine-one-one operator again. 

“Hello, is anyone there?”

“Yes, yes,” she hurriedly pulled the phone back towards her ear.  “I want to report a murder.”  The words spilled out of her mouth.

“When did this happen?”

“I don’t know exactly.”

“You don’t know?”

The detective’s reproachful tone left her speechless.  Maybe if she talked to him in person it would make more sense.

“Look, Lady.  If this is a prank, you can be arrested for that.”

She squirmed in her chair in an uncontrollable response to his harsh words as self-doubt ate away at her dwindling confidence.

Across town, at District Eighteen Headquarters of the Chicago Police Department or CPD, Senior Detective A. J. Morris took the phone from his ear and stared at it in aggravation.  His face went blank like it always did when he was trying to control his frustration.

He had been on the receiving end of practical jokes from his colleagues in the recent past and it would be a long while before he’d forget the time they had a call girl report a murder.  Arriving to investigate and expecting to find a murder victim he was ambushed with a surprise birthday party, call girl and all, thrown by his fellow officers. 

 Only he didn’t like surprise birthday parties, with or without call girls.  Everyone knew it too, yet Detective Paul Geridano, an older more jaded detective had brought in the call girls anyway just to get a reaction out of Morris.

“No, no, it’s not a prank call.”  The alluring feminine voice on the other end brought him back to the present.  “Look, maybe if I could talk to you in person it would be easier to explain.”  Her voice was smooth and professional with a touch of anxiety, an unnerving combination.  Morris fought to resist the charming voice that spoke to him through the phone.  He had to.

“In person, huh?”  It was definitely a setup he mused to himself as he wondered what Geridano was up to now.

“Where would you like to meet?”  Playing along, he intended to get the better of Geridano this time and send a message once and for all that messing with him was a bad idea.

“I don’t know.  Where does one usually meet in these circumstances?”

From her tone and command of the English language, Morris couldn’t help but think that Geridano had found a higher class working girl to do his dirty work this time.

“I wonder what he has on her!”   Lost in thought he unknowingly spoke out loud.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Nothing,” his tone terse as it took him a few seconds to recover.

“Okay, I’ll be here.  Just ask for Detective Morris at the front desk.”

“The police station?  No, no!”  She shot back emphatically.  “I can’t go downtown today,” she continued in a panic.

“Look lady, either you come into the station or give me the information over the phone.”

Back in her kitchen, Maggie tried to think of a counter offer as she paced the newly tiled floor and nibbled on her already worn-down thumbnail.

“How about meeting in the middle?”  She was proud of her proposed compromise and stood up straight as she waited for the surly detective to agree.