Stolen Innocents (The Shadow Series Book 2) (22 page)

“Can I ask you a question?” Angie asked with a strange look in her eyes.

“Of course,” said Jenna as she looked up at Angie.

“How sure are you that Bernard Kendricks is dead?” asked Angie in a worried voice.

Her question made Jenna chuckle a little bit. Not out of humor but out of surprise.

“Interesting question. I’m positive that Bernard Kendricks is dead.”

“One hundred percent positive?” asked Angie nervously.

“Considering that I was one of the people that helped scrub his brain matter off the wall? I’d say yes.”

Angie winced at the mental picture.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because I’m pretty sure that he killed Tiffany, and Courtney’s death is too similar to be an accident. The box, the one that is missing… My mother found it in Kendricks’ home after he died. It was addressed to me at my home in Seattle, and this was inside.”

Angie passed the photograph of her and Tiffany to Jenna.

“Turn it over.”

Jenna’s eyebrows rose as she read Kendricks’ neatly scrawled threat on the back.

“The package was postmarked October 7, 1997, but it was never mailed.”

“May I have this?” asked Jenna, as she held up the photograph. Her curiosity was piqued.

Angie nodded in agreement.

“Thank you. I’ll be in touch. Stick around.”

***

DiNolfo stormed through the front door of the Elkhart Police Station with a determined look on her face. She walked fast across the linoleum floor, earning nervous glances from Liam and Officer Rutledge. She quickly ran down the stairs to the file room. The door unlocked loudly and before it could bang shut, Sergeant DiNolfo had re-emerged with Tiffany O’Mara’s thick case file. She ran up the steps, two-by-two, and approached Liam’s desk. Without warning, she slammed the case file onto Liam’s desk as he looked at her for further instruction.

“Scour this file. Our answers are inside.”

Chapter              14

June 19, 2000

O’Mara Residence

9:52 PM

Gwen O’Mara sat on the couch surrounded by her daughters with a photo album on her lap. Roger sat adjacent from her with his hands folded across his lap, peering down over his glasses with a serious set of downcast eyes. Angie sat beside her mother, resting her hand on her back as Gwen narrated the story of their lives. Trixie sat at her mother’s feet listening to the stories but not daring to look up in fear that her father would see the tears streaming down her face. Ally sat on the opposite side of Gwen, her fingers clutching on Gwen’s nightgown. Misty-Lee stared darkly out the front window with her son Cory in her clutches. She had taken the news worst of all.

Gwen had stopped her sobbing. She was dealing with the death of Courtney the only way she knew how. She took solace in their time together. With the photo album on her lap, she pointed to each picture that stirred a memory within her.

“Oh, Angie… do you remember this one?” Gwen asked pointing to a photograph of her that was taken in the summer of 1974. A pale green sundress fell over her scraped knees.

Ally laughed at the photograph. “Angie, you look like a perfect lady until you see your knees and your grubby finger nails.”

Roger smiled, “Angela was of the adventurous variety. Always digging in the dirt or climbing a tree. Tiffany was the princess; as girly as they come.”

Gwen smiled at the memory.

“Oh, look,” she continued, “Here is Angela, Tiffany and Misty-Lee together playing jump rope in the garden.” Misty-Lee was weaving her legs through the ropes as Angie and Tiffany taught her how to play Double Dutch.

Gwen’s manicured nails continued turning page after page, telling the younger girls of the memories that surfaced, reminding her elder daughters of the life they used to lead. Angie could feel the mounting pain with each turn of the page. Finally, Gwen turned the page to a photograph that made her hand shake. The photograph showed Angie holding baby Courtney just a few hours after being born. Gwen touched the photograph, tracing the line of Courtney’s white baby blanket as a single tear dropped onto the page. With a heavy gasp, Gwen fell back against the couch cushion as her emotions overwhelmed her.

“Come on, guys… Let’s give Mom some space,” said Angie as she took the book from Gwen’s grasp and returned it to the bookshelf in the corner. Leaving Gwen with Roger, Angie slowly climbed the steps as her own emotions came unhinged. She was able to control her heaving sobs until she was safely behind her bedroom door.

***

A nightmare stirred Angie from a deep sleep. She had cried herself to sleep, the emotions from their trek down memory lane too much for her in the wake of her sister’s death, and now Bernard Kendricks’ face had awoken her. Angie opened her eyes with a deep-seated fear shining out from her irises. Her skin was clammy, her nerves shot and her anxiety had reached an all time high. Sitting up in her bed, she looked at the time. 12:52 A.M. Her hands shook as she walked to the bathroom to splash cool water against her face. Angie couldn’t help but wonder, would she be next?

“I need fresh air,” Angie said as she pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. She knew a killer was on the loose, but she felt as if she were suffocating in the dense fog of the house. Bolting down the front steps, she grabbed the car keys and stepped out into the night.

***

Hunter couldn’t sleep. He was on edge, unsure of who to trust. He wasn’t sure who had been in his trailer earlier that day, but whoever it was, they were clearly trying to set him up. It was shortly after 1:00 in the morning and sleep was evading him. He lay sprawled on his couch as he listened intently, trying to hear if anyone was stalking outside the trailer. The crunch of gravel caused Hunter to sit up. He grabbed his baseball bat that sat next to the sliding glass door and he hid waiting to see who it was. Whoever it was was brave enough to step right up on his porch and knock on the glass window. Knock. Clearly this was no intruder.

“Hunter?!” Angie called from the other side. “Please open up.”

Hunter let out a breath and dropped the bat, hurrying to unlock the door and let her in.

“What the hell are you doing out?! That son of a bitch is still out there!” Hunter said, pulling Angie in quickly.

“I can’t sleep. The air in that house. The grief. I feel like it is swallowing me whole. I needed to see you…”

“Well, come in… I heard what happened.”

“It’s like 1980 all over again.”

Chapter              15

June 19, 2000

Steeplechase Academy

Elkhart, PA

9:30 A.M.

Blake Morrow slumped over his desk in Chemistry 201 as he felt a swift kick to his leg.

“Ow! What was that for?!”

He looked to his left, and caught a nasty glare from his sister, Tristan.

“Pay attention! Finals start tomorrow!” Tristan whispered loudly.

“I got this, Tris. Relax!” assured Blake.

“I got this, too…” said Shane with a sly smile.

“I’ve got my chemistry buddy to rely on,” Shane motioned towards Tristan.

“Oh, no. I’ll sit in the hallway.”

“Then I’ll have to follow you, since Jack said I have to keep an eye on you at all times,” said Cole playfully.

“What are you, his Golden Retriever? Tristan ran off, better bring her back? Someone might steal her? I’m fine!” Tristan insisted.

“He’s just worried. Frankly, I am, too,” Cole mentioned.

Tristan rolled her eyes.

These men worry too stinking much.

“Are you going to follow me to the bathroom, too?” asked Tristan as she tried not to laugh.

Cole’s face turned a vibrant shade of red.

Jack was taking this entirely too far in Tristan’s opinion. She was perfectly capable of getting to work, school and maneuvering through the hallways to her next class without a male chaperone.

“Cheer up… At least he trusts Cole now. He trusts him more than he trusts any of us. He didn’t bother asking any of us to follow you around.”

“That’s because you
already
follow me everywhere I go.”

Shane shook his head up and down, “That is true.”

“You keep us out of trouble,” quipped Blake.

Tristan rolled her eyes as she thought about it. Jack wasn’t thrilled that Tommy and Tristan were even going to school, but when Tristan reminded him that they needed to pass finals to graduate, Jack relented. He was so worried that whoever had come after Courtney would get Tristan next. Jack had all the kids ride in Cole’s Jeep, and told him that if there was any trouble to call him.

The man is becoming more overbearing with each passing day. Maybe I should’ve selected a west coast school,
Tristan thought.

Suddenly, the school bell rang and everyone put their books in their bags. When they got into the hall, Shane complained, “Is it lunch time yet?”

“No. We have that ridiculous assembly now,” explained Tristan.

“Not the ‘Don’t do drugs’ one?!” complained Blake

“Yup.”

Cole groaned in response. No one looked forward to this assembly.

“Apparently there is a guest speaker this year.”

The group approached the auditorium where a poster sized picture of Hunter McCord was displayed on a tri-fold stand. Hunter was smiling broadly with his arms spread wide. Under the picture, the words “Hugs Not Drugs” were written in big bold letters, causing Tommy to grit his teeth. Many of the students at Steeplechase knew that McCord was an active drug dealer and not someone you wanted to mess around with. Somehow, he had fooled the faculty at Steeplechase, though. As part of his community service requirement, McCord gave inspirational anti-drug speeches to local high schools about the dangers of drug use. Tommy refrained from knocking over the poster as they took their seats in the back of the auditorium.

“I find it really hard to believe that they don’t know that he’s still dealing….” Tommy complained.

“Apparently, Jenna’s had her eye on him, she just hasn’t been able to pin anything on him yet,” Cole admitted.

“So, he can just go about doing this until he’s caught?”

“I guess.”

“This baffles me. Vice Principal Irwin seriously does have rocks in her head,” complained Tristan.

“Does this really surprise you? This school hired a complete psycho for an English teacher, and
this
surprises you?!” exclaimed Shane in utter disgust.

“True.”

***

Joe opened the doors of Monte’s Café after two days of being closed due to the investigation. DiNolfo had cleared it as a crime scene and gave Joe the go-ahead to re-open to the public. Joe woke up early and plugged in his power washer to clean the red stain from his cement walkway. He then brought out a bouquet of daisies and placed them where he found Courtney’s body, just two days ago. A small memorial for a life that was cut short.

Joe put his roadside sign out in clear view of the road letting patrons know that all entrees were fifty percent off today in an effort to ramp up business. Only time would tell if this terrible tragedy would silence the life of Monte’s, too.