Stolen Innocents (The Shadow Series Book 2) (2 page)

“So, do you want to see what I use this box for?” Bernard asked with an alluring voice.

Angie shook her head.

“Okay, but only if you don’t tell anyone. Can you keep a secret?” asked Bernard as his face came closer to Angie’s.

“No one’s ever told me a secret before,” Angie admitted.

“Just because you haven’t heard one before, doesn’t mean they don’t exist. Everyone has a secret. Even you.”

“I don’t have any secrets,” insisted Angie.

“Keep telling yourself that. Everyone has secrets, and all secrets must come to light.”

“No, really… I don’t have any secrets yet…” said Angie convincingly.

Bernard’s gaze darkened as he stared into his young cousin’s face.

“Give it time. You will.”

Suddenly, the sparrow flew off Bernard’s shoulder and darted across the forest. It flitted from side to side, until finally it propelled its tiny body into the dark cavity of the Bone Tree.

“Hey! Where’d it go?!” asked Angie with a start.

Bernard smiled, “You wanted to know what I use my box for…  Open it.”

Bewildered, Angie did as she was told. She pulled the clasp on the ornate box and watched the lid gently rise. Inside of the box lay a small piece of red satin. Intrigued, Angie gently pulled the satin out of the box and what lay beneath caused her stomach to lurch. Cradled in the box was a sparrow that lay unmoving – dead. There were no signs of life, but also no evidence of decomposition, either. In a moment a sheer panic, Angie dropped the box to the ground and ran up the path that led out of the forest. A scream flooded the air as Bernard laughed with pleasure. Bernard cackled loudly as he watched Angie O’Mara run frantically up the path. The sparrow that had entered the cavity of the Bone Tree just a moment earlier emerged from inside the hollow tree and landed gracefully on Bernard’s shoulder.

“I’ve always loved that trick,” Bernard said evilly. He smiled in twisted delight as he stepped over the dead sparrow that lay on the ground with the live one still perched on his shoulder. Slowly, he meandered down the path that led deeper into the Forest of York as a song whistled from his lips.

Everybody in Elkhart has a secret, and if they say they don’t, they’re lying. I got out of there as quick as I could, and I never looked back. Longing to escape a past that kept me awake at night, I packed my beat-up hornet green Volkswagen with anything I couldn’t live without and left without a goodbye or a trace. My mother would never forgive me for my hasty departure, but I didn’t have a choice. I had to escape the evil that resided there. My life depended on it. With tears welling in my eyes, the VW met the open road. Its tires burned against the asphalt and I had no plans to ever show my face in Elkhart again.

As the landscape of the heartland raced past my window, I only had eyes for the road before me, with the exception of an occasional glance in the rearview mirror. I drove 2,700 miles to the coast. Not the Atlantic, which would have made more sense to some people, but the Pacific. The only thought that entered my mind was that I had to get as far away from Elkhart as I possibly could. And I did just that. I drove west from the mountains of Pennsylvania to the lush coast of the Pacific Northwest. I stopped only out of necessity; to rest, to eat, and to fill up the VW’s tank. Finally, after five long days of driving, I had reached my destination. Seattle: A place where no one knew my name or the past that I was running from. It would be a brand new start. But the past has a way of catching up with you. Never in a million years did I think that I would be right back where I started twenty years ago, looking into the face of the one person I had spent my life running from.

Part One

The Long Way Home

I heard you whisper,

In the dark of night.

Your voice was clear,

But you eluded my sight.

A ghostly encounter,

A phantom's flight.

Quickened my heart,

Mind frozen with fright.

The rustling of leaves,

Sending shivers up my spine.

Shadows of memories,

Stepping out of line.

I looked for you,

But no friend I could find.

Alone in the dark,

Your face clear in my mind.

~Excerpt from Phantom Flight by Addison Kline

Chapter              1

June 15, 2000

2324 Mariner Avenue,

Apartment 3B

Seattle, WA

6:00 A.M.

“Good Morning, Seattle! This is Jill Mayweather and it’s going to be a great day! Today is June fifteenth and we have all the headlines, but first let’s check the weather. You’d better bring an umbrella with you, because, you guessed it! It’s raining again! We’re expecting heavy rain all morning and we can expect a light shower this afternoon. It is expected to clear up by the evening commute. Tonight will be mostly cloudy with a high of fifty-nine…”

Angela O’Mara-Macklon’s alarm clock spewed out the morning news as she lay discontent under her covers. With just two hours of sleep, she contemplated whether or not she should even bother trudging to work to face her boss Felix and his grand inquisition. Angie was supposed to log in from home last night so that she could finish preparing the Thire deposition. Thanks to Jeremy’s series of dramatics, she never even got the chance to turn her computer on, let alone finish the necessary preparation needed for the upcoming court date. Jeremy, Angie’s husband of four years, decided to throw a full-fledged, level-five, atomic hissy fit when Angie arrived home late for dinner last night. A whole three hours and fifteen minutes late. Jeremy had spent the entire afternoon preparing a special dinner for them. It was a last ditch effort to invigorate some long-lost spark between them. By the time she strolled into their apartment at ten before eight, the candles were doused, the tilapia was cold, and Jeremy was sitting in the dark of the dining room seething.

The last words that Jeremy spewed at Angie like battery acid before he left her life forever was, “I feel like I don’t even know you anymore. What happened to you?! Who the hell are you, and what have you done with my wife?!”

The words still stung as the clock reflected the much dreaded hour of 6 A.M. Angie’s head pounded as she ripped the covers off of her body, revealing her bed clothes – A wrinkled gray pant suit that she had worn the previous day. Sleepily, she grazed her hand over the empty space in the bed, his space, and sighed heavily as the weight of last night came crashing down upon her. Sucking up her pride, she forced herself to crawl out of bed. Angie’s long blonde hair fell over her tired face. She glanced in the mirror and immediately regretted doing so. She shuddered at her appearance, noting that she always looked so much older when she didn’t get a full night’s sleep.

Angie forced herself to walk to her closet as her bare feet scraped along the rough carpet. Quickly, she flicked through her wardrobe that was overflowing with dull pant suits, dresses and other corporate wear. It was a veritable sea of black, blue and gray. Finally, she pulled out a navy blue pencil skirt, a white blouse and a pair of black mules – An outfit that was almost as boring as what she presently had on. Angie carelessly tossed her garments on the unmade bed as she forced herself to face the day. Angie decided that it would be better to stay busy than wallow in her misery. Angie was already expecting an ear lashing from Felix, prolonging it would only intensify his wrath. The last thing Angie needed was to be on Felix’s bad side. Little did Angie know, her day was about to get a whole lot worse.

***

“Macklon!”

Felix DeSanto’s bellowing scream called out over the sea of gray cubicles. His outburst had effectively silenced the hum of chatter that was emitting from the legal accounting division at Heath, Conrad, and Langston, LLC. Angie eyed the semi-ajar door of Felix’s office speculatively. She was intimidated by the heightened level of agitation in Felix’s voice. As Angie walked grimly to her moody boss’ office, fifty-two pairs of eyes followed her movements. They were all curious what Felix’s star legal assistant had done to deserve such chilly treatment. Angie pushed open the door to Felix’s office and allowed it to click behind her. Nervously, she glanced up at her irate boss, Felix DeSanto.

Felix DeSanto is a high powered corporate defense attorney with a large client list of Fortune 500 companies and an even bigger anger management problem. He wasn’t well liked, but thanks to his outstanding reputation as a criminal and corporate defense attorney, he was well-respected. As a result, his frequent outbursts were overlooked, as was his reputation as a relentless womanizer. Felix was not the type of boss you wanted to get on the wrong side of. Unfortunately for Angie, she had strayed from her long-maintained role as the boss’ princess.

“Good Morning. How are you today?” asked Angie in a friendly tone.

In response, Felix scrunched up his face and presented her with his usual take-no-shit attitude.

“Cut the crap, Macklon. Where’s the file?”

“I can explain…” Angie began but was rudely cut off by Felix.

“It’s 8:20. You were supposed to be here at 8:15,” said Felix stingily as he glanced at his Rolex.

“I was booting up my computer,” Angie explained.

“Seriously? This file better be immaculate.”

Angie sighed.

“I have the file, but it’s not finished.”

Angie looked at her boss’ face with worry. Felix’s face had now turned a dangerous shade of purple. He literally looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

Good job, Angie. You’ve outdone yourself this time.

“You have got to be kidding me!”

“Sorry, I wanted to finish it last night but Jeremy…”

Angie began but she was cut off immediately by Felix, who was waving her off disrespectfully.

“I don’t have time for your personal melodrama! I need my Goddamn deposition!” Felix barked.

“I can do it this morning...” Angie explained.

“I told you before you left yesterday that it had to be in by 8:15 today, and that was firm. So I’m going to give it to Swanson. At least I know that it will get done.”

“Felix, I break my back for this job, for
you
…  I was just trying to explain to you that my husband…”

“Macklon, I’m going to be frank with you. I don’t give a damn about your husband. He doesn’t like me, and I don’t like him. I don’t want to hear it. You said the deposition would be done and now it’s not.”

Angie was taken aback by Felix’s brutal admission.

“Look, DeSanto! You’re way out of line! You gave me two hours to get the deposition together, so I took it home thinking I could finish it at home. I didn’t have to though…”

“The fact remains that it didn’t get done!”

“It’s not done because it’s not humanly possible. You need to decide if you want it done right, or if you want it done quickly.”

“Macklon! You know damn well I need both!”

“I was trying to do you a favor. I wasn’t on the clock,” Angie reminded Felix curtly.

“You would have gotten paid!” exclaimed Felix in a petulant voice.

“Would I? You still owe me overtime from last month,” reminded Angie. She was nobody’s fool.

Before Felix could answer her, there was a knock on the door.

“Now you’re just being petty! Open the door. It’s probably Swanson.”

Timothy Swanson was fresh out of college and eager to build a name for himself. He did whatever Felix asked of him. Felix could ask him to go detail the advertisement on the highway and Swanson would be out on Route 99 with a bucket and rag, shining it up. Swanson was like a puppy dog, albeit a really hyper and well-caffeinated one.