Return to the Shadows (3 page)

Still, hearing footsteps in the lab the week
before and automatically assuming I was being stalked for the kill?
No, I was pretty sure I had gone to an extreme with that one. There
was no real reason to believe I was in danger, I reminded myself as
I finished loading the dishwasher. Just the dreams. But I knew that
didn’t prove anything, only that I had a wild imagination. And the
trip to Terlain had probably given me enough material to fuel that
imagination for the next fifty or sixty years. I smiled wistfully
and wondered what Marta would have to say about everything. She’d
be sarcastic for sure and would toss in a wisecrack or two. That
was her way. And Lord, how I missed her. I wanted to know what they
were doing tonight—Bob and Marta…and Mark.

More often than not, I found my thoughts
drifting to Mark. I imagined them all together, like they were the
last time I had seen them, and the longing grew to painful
proportions. I had always meant to see them again…to see Mark
again. But life had a way of moving forward, and plans changed,
sometimes whether we wished them to or not. It still shamed me to
think that getting back to Mark had been put right next to
“cleaning out the garage” on my list of priorities. Something I
meant to do, but in all likelihood would never get around to.

Sure, I had plenty of good reasons to avoid
Terlain like the plague. First of all, it was not safe for me to go
there. I was on the equivalent of an America’s Most Wanted list
over there since my last visit, having managed to piss off Kahn,
the guards, the Shadow Man, and everything else I had somehow
managed to evade. Going back would mean putting my life in danger,
and I couldn’t put Ashley through that kind of torment. She had
already lost one set of parents. She wouldn’t understand. Even if I
somehow managed not to get myself killed, how could I possibly
explain why I had to leave her for several weeks?

She would be devastated. I promised I would
never leave her.

The alternative to that was obvious—I could
take her with me. A laugh bubbled at the mere thought of that one.
No. Things had to be the way they were and for good reason. My
daughter had a life in Seattle and I had no right to jeopardize or
disrupt that. Maybe later—some far off day when things were
different—I would see them again, Mark and Aries and Faith. I
thought about Aries almost as frequently as I thought of Mark. It
was impossible not to hope that she was safe, to pray every day
that the guards had not caught up with her that day.

I poured yogurt into a plain white bowl and
took a seat at the kitchen island. It was just after nine in the
evening, and Ashley was safe and sound in her bed for the night. I
briefly thought about calling Mike, but just as quickly decided
against it. If anyone was capable of understanding how I felt and
what I had been through, it was my brother. After all, he had lived
through it with me. But even a year later, I still knew better than
to bring up Aries around him. She had remained a sore subject
between the two of us. I suspected that he was in love with her,
but—

“Hey, Claire, are you home?”

“Well speak of the devil. I’m in the kitchen,
Mike!” I called out.

“You forgot to lock your front door again,”
Mike admonished as he popped his head around the kitchen
doorway.

“So? I’m still awake. What’s up?”

“I was just on my way home from the museum
and figured I would stop in to see how you and Miss Ashley are
faring.”

“We’re faring just fine.” I couldn’t help but
smile. “Help yourself to a snack; I’m having one,” I offered,
gesturing to my yogurt.

“Don’t mind if I do. So I heard you quit your
job at LanTech today.”

“Good news travels fast. Megan?”

“She called me earlier. Is it true? Did you
really quit today? Without notice?”

“You bet I did. I got an offer that was too
good to pass up. It’s a lot more money than I was making at
LanTech.”

“Since when have you cared about money,
Claire?”

“Hey, I like money,” I protested around a
mouthful of vanilla yogurt. “No, I love money. So there.” I waved
the spoon at him triumphantly.

“You don’t care about the money and we both
know it.”

“No. You know it. Rather, you think you know.
Which you don’t. In fact, you can leave now if all you’re going to
do is stand here and criticize me in my own kitchen.”

Mike ignored the invitation to leave, just as
I figured he would. Instead, he parked his rear end in one of my
kitchen chairs and calmly lit a cigarette.

“You can’t smoke in here. When did you start
smoking?”

“I don’t smoke,” he shrugged.

I shook my head, exasperated, and held his
pack of cigarettes high in the air. “May I present Exhibit A?
Really, Mike, I thought you had quit.”

“I did.”

“Well so did I. Mostly. Now get that thing
out of here. I mean it. It’s not good for Ashley.”

“I’ll take it outside, calm down.”

I poured two cups of coffee, added liberal
amounts of cream and sugar to both mugs, and followed him out to
the front porch.

“Thanks.” He sipped his coffee and gazed at
the star-strewn sky above my house. “You want to tell me what’s
really going on?”

“Not really, no.”

“Smoke?”

“Why not?” I sighed, and shook a cigarette
out of his pack, lit up, and leaned back to prop my feet on the
porch rails.

“Claire, just tell me that you’re okay. Tell
me that you’re happy. That this is what you want. That’s all I’m
asking.”

“It’s the best thing for us. For me and for
Ashley. She needs me at home more often.”

“Agreed. But what would have been wrong with
cutting back on your hours at LanTech? You make a good salary
there. And you had a lot of time on that job. You know we will help
take care of Ashley. Me, and Mom and Dad, Megan and Juan. We are
all here for the two of you.”

“Thank you, Mike.” I gave his knee a sisterly
pat. “But I’ve made my decision. Writing for the magazine will
be…fun, I think.” I shrugged and drained the last of my coffee.
“Different at least. And I’ve been ready for a change for a long
time. Despite what you may think, the money is a motivating factor
for me. It’s never too early to start saving for Ashley’s future. I
want to be able to send her to a good school.

Help her get a car and a house someday. This
job can help me do all of that. And the hours are flexible. If
Ashley gets sick or hurt at school, I can be available for
her.”

“I just want you to be satisfied, Claire. You
know that.”

“I know you do, Mike. And I will be. I
am.”

“You really love her, don’t you?” he said
softly.

“Yes. I love you too, little brother, just so
you know.”

The wind blew in the distance and a movement
at the edge of the yard caught my eye.

“Mike, did you see that?” I leaned over the
porch rail and peered into the darkness.

“Where?”

“Over there by the bushes. No, to the right.
Do you see anyone?”

“I’ll check it out. Stay here.” He was up and
moving in an instant.

“Wait—” But he was already heading across my
well-manicured lawn. I hugged my arms to my chest and took a step
forward, waiting.

“Claire, go get a flashlight, will you?”

“Oh, Lord. Okay, hang on.” I darted into the
house and grabbed the light and my cell phone, stopping to check on
Ashley before heading out the front door again.

“Here. What did you see?”

“I’m not sure. Let’s see...yes, right there.
Look. The grass is smashed down.”

I knelt down to get a better look at the
patch of lawn he had illuminated in a triangle of light.

“Does that look like a footprint to you?”

“I can’t tell, Claire. It could be. That or a
large animal. What did you see when we were on the porch?”

“Just a shadow. I guess it could have been a
dog. Maybe. But it looked tall to me.” I scratched my head and
glanced down the deserted tree-lined street.

“I told you to have these hedges trimmed.
Anybody could hide over here. It’s too good of a cover.”

“I’ve been meaning to get around to that,” I
admitted. At his stern glance, I sighed. “Tomorrow. I’ll have them
done first thing tomorrow. Scout’s honor.”

“Has anything unusual been happening
lately?”

“Like what? Perverts casing the house?”

“Sure, like that.”

“No.” I didn’t tell him about the dreams, or
the feelings of being watched that had persisted since our return
from Terlain. It was most likely nothing, and would only give him
cause to worry. Mike worrying was not a pretty sight. He had a
tendency to go over the top and straight into paranoia-land.

“Well, why don’t you go on inside and check
on the baby? I’ll take a look around out here. Check for footsteps
around the house.”

I smiled in the darkness. “Fine, but don’t
let Ashley hear you refer to her as ‘the baby.’”

“Oh right, I keep forgetting she goes to
school now.” He grinned.

“Exactly, and don’t you forget it.”

“I’ll be in soon, okay? Don’t worry.”

“You want me to put on a fresh pot of
coffee?”

“No, that’s all right. I can’t stay much
longer.”

I shook my head, knowing full well how the
rest of the night would play out. Mike would find a twig out of
place and come bursting through the front door in roughly ten
minutes and announce that he was calling the police. If I was able
to talk him out of it—or wrestle the phone away from him—the family
would at least be spared some embarrassment. If I couldn’t, he
would call 911 and they would laugh at him all the while telling
him to call back once a real crime had been committed. After that,
Mike would insist on spending the night. I headed into the kitchen
to make the coffee Mike had declined. Because he couldn’t stay, of
course. Yeah, right.

Nine minutes later, I dried my hands on a
dishtowel and began the countdown. “Five, four, three, two—”

“Claire, I’m calling the police!”

“And there it is.”

“Claire!”

“In the kitchen! And keep your voice down,
Ashley is sleeping.”

“We have to call the police.” He was already
reaching for the phone.

“Wait! Why do we have to call the police?
What’s wrong?”

“Come look. No, wait. I have to check the
house first. Lock the door and get your gun.”

“Mike, what the hell?”

“Just trust me please. Where’s the gun?”

“In my room, but—”

“Go get it.”

“Fine. Just...fine. But you had better have a
damned good reason for this,” I warned as we strode down the
hallway where the bedrooms were located.

“I do.”

“I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me what
it is,” I grumbled.

“In a minute. First, let’s secure the
house.”

“You first.” I waved him out of my bedroom
doorway. He started at the back of the house, methodically checking
each room, Rambo-style. Next he checked the living room and the
den, and finally, the bedrooms, saving Ashley’s room for last.

“Oh, no. You are not going in her room.”

“I need to check her bedroom,” he argued with
a hard edge to his voice.

“Well, I don’t want you taking that gun in
there. If she wakes up and sees that, it will terrify her.”

“You’re right. You take it. Keep it where you
can get to it quickly.”

I took the weapon and tucked it into the
waistband of my jeans as we crept into her room. We peered into the
closet and behind the door. Mike even looked under her bed.

“Mommy?”

“Shh…go back to sleep,” I whispered.

“What’s going on?”

“Everything is fine, sweetie. Your uncle Mike
is just acting like a nut-job. Go back to sleep.”

“Okay. Hi, Uncle Mike,” she murmured
sleepily.

“Hi, honey. Go to sleep now, you’re safe.” He
need not have worried, her eyes were already drifting closed as we
shut the door.

“Okay, we’ve checked out the entire house.
Now what in the hell is going on?” I demanded.

“Come outside and take a look for yourself.”
He led the way out the front door and around the side of the house,
stopping just outside of Ashley’s window.

“Look at the grass by the hedges.”

“Mike, you said yourself that could have been
an animal.”

“And look up here, at her window.” He swung
the flashlight up to about chest level to the windowsill. The blood
rushed to my head and a metallic taste filled my mouth. Scratches
bore into the smooth white trim of the window, around the bottom,
and halfway up the windowpane near the lock.

“What…?”

“Look at the glass, Claire. Right there.” The
light switched to both sides of the window in turn, and I gasped
when I noticed the handprints.

“Oh my God.”

“Someone tried to get into this window.”

Long moments ticked by as the implications
struck home. We stared at each other; anger and dread met and
held.

“I’m calling the police,” I announced.

***

“So you didn’t actually see anyone leaving
the yard?”

“No, not exactly. I saw a shadow, and some
movement, but no, I can’t say for sure if it was a man or not.”

“Why do you refer to the alleged as a
man?”

“How many women do you know that lurk about
and try to break into houses in the night?”

“You would be surprised, ma’am,” Officer
Jones informed me. I disliked him instantly and I was pretty sure
the feeling was mutual. He had a cocky air about him that I didn’t
find one bit appealing. Or reassuring. I got the impression that we
were little more than a case number to him. It was a lot like
talking to one of those automated phone systems you had to wade
through in order to get a live person.

“Is there anyone you know who would be angry
with you, or want to hurt you or your family?”

“Yes.” I sighed.