“Agent Ibarra, I can imagine. But why here?”
“Because of what I watched you make of it, Jennie. This neighborhood became your family. I want my family to live in a place where their neighbors care for one another, where a church welcomes them and makes them part of their community. I want you to educate my children.”
Raúl stepped further into the room. Jennie instinctively took a step back, and Raúl stopped.
“I watched you to protect you from Mendoza.” He swallowed. “That young boy... Not a day goes by I haven’t died a little over his senseless death. I should have been a better agent… killed that crazy bastard before he ever had a chance…”
“That isn’t your sin, Agent Ibarra. You sacrificed a great deal of your life to protect a stranger. We both know who is to blame, and he will pay for his sins.”
Before he could respond, Jennie’s cell phone buzzed across the kitchen counter. She picked it up. “I’m fine, Jared,” she said, glancing at Raúl. He hadn’t moved another inch into the room.
“Not from where I’m sitting, Jennie. Damn it, what’s wrong?”
Sirens blasted through the phone. “Is that your siren?
“All of a sudden I got this vibe…
“Turn it off. I’m fine. Where are you?”
“Just passed Inner Harbor.”
“Please slow down, and don’t come into the neighborhood with your lights blaring.”
“You better be fine.”
Jennie placed the phone back on the counter. “He worries.”
“That’s a unique thing you and Jared share. I’ve seen nothing like it.”
“Just don’t ask me to explain it, Agent Ibarra.”
“Raúl, my name is Raúl,” he said, repositioning his injured leg and looking around the room. “Anita wants to open a flower shop on the ground floor, and turn the second and third floors into our home. I’ll work as an FBI consultant, on a case-by-case basis. The rest of the time, I’ll just be here. The neighborhood doesn’t have a flower shop.”
“I think Louise would be happy that a young family made their home here.” She took in a deep breath. “I wish you and your family all happiness, Agent Ibarra, Raúl.”
The front door opened. Jared came into the apartment and said quietly,
“You know your mama is a real smart woman. She knew if I had you in my arms, there’s no way I would put a fist through your daddy’s ugly face for scaring my Jennie,” Jared said, cradling a tiny baby in his arms. “But what she forgot is that I could always just hand you over to your Aunt Jennie,” he added, eyeing his old friend.
“She was hoping once you got her in your arms, you couldn’t give her up.” Raúl fussed with the blanket and caressed the baby’s cheek. “Isn’t she the most beautiful baby girl in the entire world?”
“Yeah, she is, but don’t think that will help you any.” Jared moved next to his wife. “So, you’re okay.”
“I didn’t think it was possible, but you look even more incredible with a baby in your arms.” She tucked her arm around her husband’s waist. “He bought this building. He and Anita will open a flower shop.”
Jared’s muscles tensed. He carefully placed the baby in Jennie’s arms and cornered Raúl, who was leaning against the door for support.
“You should have given me the heads up. What the hell…”
“Jared, shush, the baby. Stop acting like a Neanderthal. What’s wrong with him living here? You told me he was a great guy, you adore his wife, and you’re TJ’s godfather.”
“I did say that, but…”
Raúl burst out laughing. “Oh, Amigo, she is priceless.”
Jared reached out his hand to Raúl and pulled him into a hug. “You’re looking a lot better than the last time I saw you. I appreciate you not dying on me.”
“I aim to please.” He gently touched his daughter’s cheek. “I had a lot to live for.”
“We have a wedding rehearsal at the church in about twenty minutes. What are your plans now, Raúl?”
“We have rented a small place for a few months, while we renovate the brownstone.”
“I mean what are your plans tonight? We’re renewing our vows and hosting our wedding reception tomorrow night.”
“That’s tomorrow.” Raúl’s eyes met Jennie’s. “We received the invitation, but I wasn’t sure I would be up for the trip, and maybe it wasn’t the best time for us to meet each other.”
“If you and your family are not busy, we would love to invite you to our rehearsal dinner tonight and to the wedding tomorrow.” Jennie smiled down at the baby in her arms.
“And how would that make you feel?” Raúl asked.
“You’re family, Raúl. It’s time we got to know each other better.”
“It doesn’t have to be at your wedding.”
“I can’t think of a better time or place, especially if I get a turn dancing with this little doll baby,” Jennie said, making the baby giggle. “What’s her name?”
“Angelina, Angel.”
“Jared, your parents will take one look at this little sweetheart and melt.” Jennie cradled the baby on her shoulder. “Then it’s settled.” At the door, she turned back. “A flower shop is the one thing this neighborhood was missing. Welcome home, Raúl.”
Epilogue
For those who believe in what can’t be seen…
* * *
He stood alone, as the bride walked down the aisle on the arm of his childhood friend, Michael Sweeney. The sanctuary of St. Luke’s was filled with the family that had been lacking in Jennie’s life. At the altar, she eased into McNeil’s arms, holding on tight. There was no other place in the world she wanted to be. Michael joined Anthony on the altar, and together they recited the sacred vows. Evan would forever cherish the look of pure happiness radiating from his daughter’s face.
“We talked about this moment when she was less than an hour old.” Theresa tenderly placed her arm around her husband. “They belong to each other now. He will keep her safe.”
“And she, him.”
Tears slipped down Evan’s cheeks, as the rings were blessed and placed on Jennie’s slender finger. His heart was still heavy. “It isn’t over…”
“We chose well for her.” Theresa gently wiped his cheek. “No tears. Their love for each other is strong, and it will grow. That alone will sustain them. Look closer. Our daughter is so blessed,” she said, as she scanned the crowd. “We can leave her, knowing she’ll be loved, and that’s the greatest power of all.”
“It’s hard to say goodbye.”
“Never goodbye, my love.”
Evan cradled his wife next to his chest, raised his fingers to his lips and blew a final kiss. “Be happy, my Aingeal Lomhara.”
A Note from the Author
To my dear Readers,
I can’t thank you enough for choosing to read In the Shadow of Evil, book two of the Shadows and Light series. Jennie and Jared were my first couple, my first completed novel, and they will always hold a special place in my heart.
In the Shadow of Malice, book 3 is up next. Adam Blake and Calista Martin have a hard road in front of them, and they’re bringing their problems right to the McNeil’s family door step. The family will never be the same, and it’s going to be fun, folks.
I would really appreciate an honest review of what you thought of In the Shadow of Evil on KOBO, Goodreads and BookBub. If you would like to be considered for my select Advance Readers Team, the easiest way is to join my newsletter on my website and sign up.
You can find my current news on book releases, contests and giveaways on my newsletter here, Nancy’s Newsletter. It will only hit your inbox once a month unless something exciting comes up that I have to share. For a closer relationship, become a member of my private Facebook group, Nancy’s Corner. You can also find me blogging on my Website where you’ll meet fascinating people, both real and fictional.
Hugs to all,
Nancy C. Weeks
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* * *
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Excerpt from In the Shadow of Malice Book 3
Shadows and Light
Nancy C. Weeks
* * *
College Park, Maryland
* * *
Almost midnight, an empty parking lot, no prying eyes. Adam Blake hit the key fob, locking his sedan as he stepped out of the shadows. His senses picked up a hint of the wild honeysuckle that grew along the chain-linked fence lining the west side of Pete’s Diner. As a warm May breeze washed over him, he rolled the tension from his shoulders and scanned the perimeter. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary.
Quite frankly, the reason he kept coming back surprised the hell out of him. Even through the food was great, Adam craved the company the small diner provided. The regulars were all so damn normal. Adam needed normal.
His life had become a reflection of what he did for a living, and a drastic change was the plan, Pete’s Diner, his baby step in that direction. The occasional hour spent with familiar strangers chased away his lonely, harsh existence.
From his position, he could identify the two people who remained in the deserted restaurant. The wizened old trucker was there on his weekly run from Norfolk, Virginia, to New Haven, Connecticut. The young woman sitting alone in one of the booths, the owner’s granddaughter. From what Adam could surmise, Calista Martin had no life outside the diner other than her music studies at the university a few miles down the road. The ever-present cello case propped on the bench next to her kept her company.
The double doors behind the counter opened and a big man in a navy-blue double-breasted chef’s coat and sculled cap set a large silverware caddy on the counter. Pete Bradshaw was built like a guerrilla on steroids. Strands of blond-gray hair escaped the edges of his cap and gray stubble covered his chin. But what stood out most was the enormous fried egg skull tattoo on his left arm, the yellow yolk resting right in the center of the left eye socket.
Calista approached Pete as he poured coffee into a travel mug. The hard angles of his face softened when he glanced at her. He replaced the carafe back on the heating unit and a grin spread across his face. A bellowed cheer loud enough to rattle the windows followed as he lifted her into his arms and swung her around like she was a little girl. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gave him a quick hug before turning to the trucker and hugging him as well.
The celebratory moment could only mean one thing: Calista Martin posted her final assignment for her master’s degree in music performance and secondary education. The bright smile on her face sent an unusual feeling of warmth into the pit of Adam’s stomach. For reasons he was too tired to define, a sense of pride for her accomplishments raced through him. He recognized the strength and dedication it took for Calista to follow her dream. Adam had no dreams other than to protect those he loved and to stay alive one more day.
Her beaming smile pulled at Adam like a magnet, forcing his feet to step closer to the entrance. Removing her arms from around the older man’s shoulder, she paused and turned toward the window. Their eyes held before she raised her hand and motioned for him to come inside. She moved toward the door and held it open for him.
“Am I too late for a quick burger?” Adam asked, closing the door behind him.
“The kitchen is still open. Pete will make you something.”
Calista lowered her eyes and eased away from him. A hint of pink came into her cheeks. She acted the same skittish way every time he got too close. Most people gave him a wide berth and that was usually fine with him. But Calista was so open and friendly to everyone who came through the door. For some reason, it pissed him off that she treated him with the same wariness like everyone else did. He wanted that normal symbol of kindness she gave to others too, at least here.
The trucker set his ticket and a twenty down by the register. “Calista. Heading out.”
She stepped out of the path of the doorway. “Thanks, Nate. Be careful on the road tonight.”
“Always. And you get out of this grease-hole. Celebrate.” He placed a Nationals baseball cap on his head. “Yo, Pete. Where’s my jitter juice?”
“Watch your mouth, or the owner of this grease-hole may just spit in your next meatloaf.”
Pete’s voice was low, menacing, but his jovial expression gave away his true nature. He took the travel cup, waited a second for the last drip of fresh brewed coffee to drop into the carafe, and filled the oversized mug.
The scent of fresh, hot coffee wafted across the room, masking the overpowering odor of greasy fries. Adam inhaled, hoping the scent of caffeine would revive him. Pete took a cup from beneath the counter, filled it to the brim, and set it at Adam’s regular table.
“Same-old-same-old tonight, Adam?”
Adam took a deep sip of the hot brew. “That would be great, but make it to go. If I sit here for too long, I’ll be out for the night.”
“No problem. It will be right out,” he said before facing his granddaughter. Calista busied herself with wrapping silverware into napkins and then placing them in the caddy next to the menus. Pete took out another cup, filled it half full, and set it next to her.
“I can’t drink coffee this time of night,” she murmured at her grandfather like he should know better than to tempt her.
“Half a cup isn’t going to kill you.” A smirky grin appeared on his face. “Neither would a good roll…”
“Pete! God, the things that come out of your mouth.” Calista picked up the mug and brought it to her nose, taking in the scent of the strong, rich brew. “And you can’t joke about spitting in people’s food.” She took a sip, closed her eyes and swallowed. A groan of pure pleasure rumbled in her throat.
Adam coughed out his coffee and almost swallowed his tongue. Calista Martin was a walking, talking sensual magnet if ever there was one. From her shoulder-length strawberry blond curls that bounced when she moved to those warm cocoa, almond eyes that made a man feel noticed, Calista was a natural beauty with a body that would give a blind man a wet-dream. Her groan sent blood rushing to dormant places better left alone.
To hide the growl that slipped through his lips, he chortled. Calista gave him a hard glare but again quickly lowered her eyes. Pete let out another window-rattling laugh, which sent Calista’s cheeks and neck into a deep crimson glow. Before he returned through the swinging doors to the kitchen, he nudged her and said, “Tell Adam your news.”
“What news, Calista?”
“It’s nothing really. I just turned in my last assignment for my master’s degree.”
Adam rose, and lifting his coffee mug, tapped her mug lightly on the rim. “Congratulations. That’s fantastic.” He eased back into the booth. “So, what’s next for you?”
“After six years and 166 college credits, the only thing in my near future is uninterrupted sleep.”
Adam let out a chuckle. “Will you teach or perform?”
“Both. I have sent several audition tapes to orchestras and applied to just as many teaching positions. Now I have to see who bites. The best scenario is I’m hired to perform where I can also teach.”
When she lifted her eyes to meet his gaze, her mouth opened to say something, but all she produced was a noisy breath. She darted off her stool and pointed to the corner of his right eye. “You’re bleeding.”
Adam yanked a couple napkins from the dispenser and blotted the area around the Band-Aid. A couple drops of blood must have pooled at the corner of the bandage and dripped down the side of his face. He gave the area a quick wipe, crumbled the napkin, and placed it in his pocket.
“What happened?”
“Work accident. A protester didn’t like the guy I was protecting. Threw a bottle at him but hit me instead. I should have grabbed a larger Band-Aid.”
“I don’t think it’s nothin
g.” She lifted his hair away from the area. “Have you seen it? The skin is turning a nasty shade of black and blue.”
Calista moved behind the counter and pulled out a first-aid kit. She approached the table, cupped his jaw in her hand, and gently peeled off the Band-Aid. The feel of her hand on his face sent an unexpected jolt through him. He shifted his face out of her reach. “It’s nothing.”
Ripping open the gauze package, she folded it in half, and laid it on the wound, applying pressure. Something sharp slid over the cut, making him cringe.
“Damn, that’s not helping, Calista.”
She removed the gauze. A small, brownish piece of glass was mixed in with the blood. “Pete said you run a security firm. Maybe you need to ask for combat pay.”
“Can’t ask for more pay if it’s your own company. I practically work for free so I can give my employees combat pay.” He then eased her hand away from his head, holding down the bandage himself. “Don’t fuss. It’s no big deal.”
“You could have a concussion, Adam.”
“I don’t.” He grabbed another swatch of gauze from the kit and ripped it open. He added a squeeze of antibiotic ointment, and attached it with tape to his forehead. “See, all better.”
Calista gave him a hard stare before she closed the first-aid kit and replaced it behind the counter. She picked up a spray bottle of cleaner and began to spray down the counter. “It’s your noggin.”
Pete came back through the kitchen door and set a to-go container down next to Adam before he addressed his granddaughter. “Put that rag down. You’re not closing tonight. Pack up and get out of here.”
“You let the other waitress go home. I’m all you’ve got. Besides, we shared a ride.”
“Believe it or not, I can manage without you. And the night my granddaughter earns her master’s degree, she doesn’t close down this grease trap. Take the car. I’ll catch a bus or walk home.”
In the Shadow of Evil Book 2 Page 22