Flying in Shadows (The Black Creek Series, Book 2)

by R. T. Wolfe

  "I can always do with an extra fifty grand. Sit down, boy. Tell me your idea. I sure do admire a boy with ideas." Don leaned back in his reclining office chair behind his desk.

  Andy unrolled a copy of well-worn blueprints. He explained that if the planned water lines, along a set of roughed-in city blocks in particular, were moved about eight feet north, it would save the surveyors and civil engineers time and cost in rerouting around a dozen full grown native trees. "You see here," Andy gestured to the prints. "Trees are scattered through this area." He pointed out a spot between a trio of penciled-in dots.

  Don sat back and scratched his chin. "You know, this is really a job for the civils. Have you mentioned this to them?"

  Andy copied his movements and also sat back in his chair. "Well, sir. Working under both the surveyors and the civils, I guess I could say that I've noticed they don't too much like to talk to one another. Since I'm with the surveyors, I wasn't sure that would be such a good idea."

  Don closed his eyes in some kind of pleasant memory. "Ah. How times don't change. I appreciate the tip, Andy." He lifted from his chair and stuck out his hand in appreciation. "I'll get out there myself as soon as it's dry enough." Looking down his nose, Don added, "Is there anything else?"

  Andy took his hand, held on too tightly, before realizing it and sitting back down. He knew what he had to say but couldn't seem to get his mouth to move with the weight that pressed down on his chest. After a full minute of grinding his teeth, he began.

  * * *

  Rose stood in the pitch black on the flat porch of the Reeds' guesthouse. Waiting. The cloud cover made the dark unsettling since she'd turned her flashlight off. She craved the feel of Andy's rough hands around hers. The sound of his voice when he told her he loved her. They would talk. She would make him. It was ridiculous how happy the far away bob of light made her feel.

  She'd decided this would be the night she told him how she felt. It was probably the reason for his distance lately. Wouldn't she feel taken aback if she had said those words to him and he hadn't returned them in months? But he was Andrew Reed. She was just Rose. He was designer jeans and fainting good looks. She was bandanas and skin and bones.

  When he came close enough that Rose could see his eyes, she sunk. No expression. No greeting. Just a kiss on the forehead.

  The words stuck in her throat as she followed him to the back guestroom. He found the remote and sat alone in the wicker chair leaving the couch for her. After a moment, she lowered herself to the couch.

  Thinking she might snap, she asked what she didn't want to know, "What's the matter with you?"

  His eyes didn't leave the television. "Matter?"

  She walked over and turned off the set and stood in front of it. "Yes. Matter."

  The muscles in his jaw bulged before he took a breath and turned to meet her eyes. "I'm going to crash early tonight. Let's finish this tomorrow." As if she hadn't asked a question, he walked to her, gave her hand a squeeze and another kiss on top of her head. "See you then, all right? Same time?"

  He didn't walk her home. She spent most of the night with her eyes open, curled in her sheets with both feet tucked under the weight of Charcoal.

  The next day was her zoo shift. Andy's site was still muddy and inaccessible. She generally didn't mind working in the wet or even the rain. But, knowing that Andy had the day off made her feel left out of... of something. The feeling of panic and desperation took her over and made it impossible to think.

  She spent the morning going through the motions of work, assisting the head zookeeper prepare bamboo leaves and formulated pellets for the red pandas and a mix of fruits for the tamarin monkeys. She walked silently along the concrete pathway from exhibit to exhibit, placing food trays in enclosures and dead chicks onto stands for the bald eagles and red-tailed hawks.

  Numbness began to take her when she forced herself to remember that it was Andy who initiated their meeting that night.

  During dinner, Charcoal sat on the carpet at the edge of the kitchen linoleum. She wished her mom would eat more. She was becoming so thin. She knew Dave worried and that they fought about it. They loved each other; she was sure of that. But she was feeling confused as to what love was supposed to look like. Feel like.

  Jessica rambled on about her latest love interest. At the age of twelve, they lasted between three and four days. Rose looked around at her family and thought of how different it would be in just a few weeks when she moved out, when she moved to her future.

  It was well past dark when she tiptoed out her back door, quickly walking down her cul-de-sac toward Black Creek. She cut between houses before turning on her flashlight. It was slightly overcast but not enough that she couldn't still see Andy waiting on the bridge for her. How sweet.

  He stood in a light jacket, collared polo and worn jeans. Resting his forearms on the smooth rail, he looked toward the rippling lake.

  She walked to him and reached for his hand. He turned to face her and placed his into his pockets. This time she could read his face. And it petrified her.

  "Listen." He looked down to her. "We've been friends a long time."

  Best friends and our entire lives, she corrected in her mind.

  "I've decided to take off early."

  The fear of understanding began to wrap around her feet and held them to the bridge beneath her.

  "We've tried this dating thing. It's not working for me."

  The fear crept higher, wrapping around her torso and strangling her lungs, her heart. She could feel her head slowly start to shake back and forth but words couldn't escape her choking throat.

  Looking deep into the caramel of his eyes, she tried to see something. But what she saw confused her. A hole began to open in her heart. Gaping. More painful than anything she'd ever experienced. She didn't remember telling her lips to speak, just that they did. "I love you." She vaguely sensed a steady stream of tears that fell over her lids and down her cheeks.

  There was no spark in his eyes from her declaration. No yearning. No regret. That was it? All this and then, It's not working for me? Andy's expression remained exactly as it was. Unreadable. He stood with his jaw flexing, eyelids half opened, staring at her as her knees began to buckle under her weight. There was no offer to hold her up this time.

  Finally, he answered, "You're really just not my type."

  And at that, she felt the wooden slats of the bridge hit her knees hard as she dropped. She welcomed the physical pain. The backs of her hands lay limp on her thighs as her shoulders shook madly.

  "Don't write me this time," she heard him say as he meandered casually away from her.

  To keep her head from exploding, she pressed her hands, fingers spread as hard as she could to around her ears, her face and let herself fall to her side onto the cool, damp boards. Somehow she sensed that she wailed loudly, but inside her head was a swirl of muffled noise. Curling into a ball, she lay listening to the sound of the water rush away beneath her, taking her heart along with it.

  * * *

  Amanda stood defensively against the counter in their kitchen, eyes bloodshot, hands shaking. "This is textbook eighteen-year-old," she barked. "You tell them what they can't do and they're going to do the opposite."

  "Are we gonna wait until we wake up one day and find her gone? She's our responsibility. Damn it, Amanda. Think about it." Dave hit the palm of his hand on the kitchen wall near the phone.

  "Nolans'." He ran a hand over his head and then stopped, grabbing the back of his neck. "Where? How long?"

  Sloppily, Amanda grabbed his shirt.

  "We'll go get her." He dropped his head. "Don't be, Andy. Take care of yourself."

  * * *

  "Mom. Dad." Duncan never walked into his aunt and uncle's bedroom this late at night.

  They had been sleeping, but turned on the light in response to the awkwardness of his interruption.

  "I heard something in the garage. Andy's car is gone. He's gone."

  "He's
nineteen, Duncan. He can leave the house if he wants to at..." Nathan looked toward the red digital numbers and looked back. "...one thirty. Shit." He swung his legs to the floor and sat up.

  "I went to check. There are two fist-sized holes in the drywall. His room is empty. My wallet was open. He took my driver's license."

  Both Nathan and Brie got out of bed. Pulling on a pair of pants, Nathan asked him what else he knew.

  Duncan shook his head. "I looked in his room. It's ... well, clean. The dressers are cleared off. I think I know where he might have gone. I'm going to check around. Why don't you call over to the Nolans'? I'll call you if I find him."

  * * *

  Duncan did find him just where he'd suspected. Andy was at the dark end of the long wooden bar at Mikey's Pub and Grill, staring at the shot of whiskey in front of him.

  He walked toward his little brother cautiously. Barely on his bar stool, Andy tossed back the shot and hesitated before setting the glass back down on the scuffed counter.

  The bartender efficiently took it and glanced up at Duncan, understanding they must be together. "Glad you're here. I was about to call him a cab. Just about closing time."

  Andy must have had enough presence to figure out that the bartender was speaking about him. He turned his head groggily to see who was there. "F-f-fuck," he slurred when his eyes landed on Duncan. Then, he signaled for another shot.

  "Enough, Andy. We're leaving."

  "Fuck you." Andy missed his hand as he tried to set his chin on his palm.

  He'd never seen his brother drunk. "It's closing time, Andy. I'm taking you home."

  Duncan paid the bill and was relieved when Andy followed like a mindless puppy.

  Hanging onto him, Duncan said one word in question, "Rose?"

  Andy's eyelids slowly drooped closed and opened again. "Mind your own f-f-fucking business."

  Carrying much of his weight, he led Andy toward his car. "We can come back and get the Mustang in the morning. Let's get you to bed."

  Andy shook his head and held his hand out to stop himself, hitting only air. "Not going back. New York."

  "You were going to drive to the city? Tonight? Drunk?" He pulled Andy reluctantly along.

  "Didn't think that far." Andy stopped and held his stomach. "I'm not going back," he repeated before tossing up half the whiskey while bracing against the nearest tree.

  He leaned Andy against the puke-free side of the oak, looking for some answers. "Okay. Talk."

  Andy took three long breaths. "I'm gonna go stay with Chase. I've got all my sh-shit. Shit." He turned around and walked toward the Mustang. Duncan felt at least a little better when Andy waited by the passenger door.

  Okay, Duncan thought. "Driving into the city tonight. No problem," he muttered sarcastically. "All right, Andy. All right. Let me call Nathan and Brie. You should have told them."

  Chapter 14

  EIGHT YEARS LATER...

  "This is Jenna Woith reporting for WCEL TV here at the Seneca Botanical Gardens where a pair of wild eaglets are about to be banded. A crowd of just over a hundred is waiting eagerly this morning as Dr. Rosemarie Piper climbs to where the nest lay twined in branches nearly ninety feet in the air. Jay, pan the tree, if you would, please."

  The crowd stood in a semicircle behind a line of yellow caution tape secured by staggered saw horses. Behind them spread acres of thick green grass, trimmed to precision and framed with large clusters of coordinated color from hundreds of different flowering trees, bushes and perennials. Eager spectators ranged in age from the very young to the very old and nearly all held binoculars zoned in on Rose. The reporter spoke into a microphone that not only recorded for the station but amplified for the crowd. She was used to it. She wore a pair of loose-fitting carpenter pants, climbing shoes and a hard hat secured over her red bandana. Her slender, muscular legs held her easily between branches of the American Sycamore.

  The bucket of the cherry picker reached only seventy feet into the warm, sunny sky. She created an organized maze of leads and safety lines so she could climb the rest of the way to the nest. Slowly, she loaded the first compliant eaglet into what would look like a common duffel bag to the cameraman below.

  She noticed as the reporter rotated her stance and slightly faced Rose's assistant who stood next to her while Jenna still profiled the camera. "Next to me is Dr. Piper's assistant, Graciela Perez. Miss Perez, can you give us an idea of what we are about to see here?" Jenna craned her head up toward Rose and shivered.

  As Rose began to use a simple pulley system to send down the first eaglet, she kept an eye on her favorite assistant. Grace stood in sandals and tight jeans that hugged her healthy hips. Her shiny, brown hair tied in a low ponytail, exposing her black eyes and the smooth, caramel color of her face.

  Grace pulled her head back a bit. It made Rose smile. Grace never could get used to the microphones. They had been together since Rose was one of Grace's professor's TAs in grad school. Grace was more into parties than worrying about little things like a doctorate. Rose watched as she prepared herself to give this speech for the twelfth time this season. Grace took a deep breath and began explaining the first eaglet's descent, followed by descriptions of the myriad of measuring instruments that waited on a long, rectangular table in the center of the group of onlookers.

  * * *

  Andy faked patience like a pro. He schmoozed the oldest builder in central upstate New York into letting him in on some lots in the new Country Club Estates II subdivision. Knowing he owed Don Greenberg a beer for the contact, he reaffirmed his commitment of quality to the older builder he had on the other end of his cell and listened to the latest story about his grandchildren. Uncharacteristically, Andy was only half listening. Mostly, he was watching the WCEL broadcast.

  The times he saw Rose were few and far between, each the same punch as the one before. A mixture of pride for her success and a stabbing pain at the sight of her choked him.

  Hanging up the phone, he propped his feet on the walnut desk his uncle had made for him. The expansive top was stained dark, exposing the tight lines of grain. The sides were complicated without being ornate. It was the centerpiece of his office and portrayed an image of sturdiness and proficiency, which was exactly what Andy was going for. Nathan was a genius.

  Lifting his arm, he tilted the remote so it could reach his office television to raise the volume. His secretary rang him twice through the intercom, then gave up and texted him. If you keep ignoring me, I'll have to tell your mother.

  Since Delores only recently learned to text, he laughed and walked out to see what she wanted.

  Completely gray, she had lines scattering from eyes that could light up any room. She'd worked part time for him for going on three years. They'd grown as a team, and together built Reed Builders from the ground up.

  He hardly made it out of his office before she began, "You've got an eleven o'clock with the excavator at the Fox Hills business strip. Jonathon wants his summer job back this year. Here are your phone messages, and you need me here more than part time."

  "Push the eleven back a half hour. I'll call John myself, and why would I hire you full time when you do full-time work in a half day?" Although he could probably afford it now, she had bridge, her Silver Sneakers class and a standing hair appointment-thing every Thursday afternoon. He took the phone messages from her hand and winked.

  "You keep up that flirting and I'll move myself to the front of that line of girls you have following you."

  He shot her a toothy smile before heading back to his office, pulling a set of blue prints from his stack. He had just enough time to see about modifying the space over the garage on a lot in Country Club II. Unconsciously, he picked up the remote and pointed it behind him toward the television as he walked around his desk.

  * * *

  Her assistant held one of the eaglets on its back like a baby while Rose measured its beak, talons and tail feathers. She spoke into the microphone as she worked, moving aro
und as if it weren't there. "The bald eagle has made a sizeable recovery thanks mostly to the Endangered Species Act. Although it's no longer on the Endangered Species list, it is still a highly protected animal. We're the ones who are partially responsible for the senseless death of these helpless creatures through environmental threats and loss of habitat. We're the ones who need to help protect them from those dangers now."

  Pulling out a set of pliers, Rose took a silver band and gingerly wrapped it around the bird's enormous foot. "The eaglets each receive two bands. This first one..." She took the tool and firmly secured the ends together. "...is a rivet band issued by the US Fish and Wildlife Service." After checking that it fit comfortably, she picked up the second.

  The eaglet flexed and grabbed with its talons. "He may be young, but his talons can effortlessly slice through skin." She waited patiently for it to calm. "The other band I have here is an auxiliary band. Notice the bright color and large numbers. The bird will be easily identified with binoculars using this band. Each habitat area has its own color. This bold blue means New York. You can help by supporting The Center for Conservation Biology, the National Foundation to Protect America's Eagles and, of course, the Birds of Prey Research and Action Center." She added the latter as a plug for the center she currently worked day in and day out.

  Grace walked around passing out pamphlets regarding these centers and others as Rose worked the television reporter for a few more bites of advertising.

  "There is a threat, right now, to one of the migratory wintering grounds of the highly threatened Whooping crane in western Florida. Developers have offered a local reservist an offer he apparently couldn't refuse. We'll be departing within the week to hold a protest." Gently, she placed one of the eaglets in an ordinary looking green plastic tub and then placed the tub on a scale while rattling off numbers to Grace.

  Before it was time to haul the birds back up to their nest, Rose walked around and permitted the visitors a semi-closer look while allowing a question and answer session. Realizing how crucial donated funds were to the action center, she took her time answering questions while emphasizing conservation efforts.