Shadow Dancer (The Shadow Series Book 1)

by Kline, Addison

  “Sir! You can't go back there!”

  Jack ignored him, hell-bent on finding where the noise came from. It was faint, so it wasn't from her room, or the radiology department which was directly down the hall. Being an expert hunter, he was used to memorizing sounds, tracking patterns, determining the source of a sound. He allowed this part of him to take over, not allowing anyone or anything to slow him down. He had a guard and a nurse chasing behind him, trying to stop him from going into the restricted area that was considered a hard hat construction zone.

  “Sir, please! Let us check the noise out! It's too dangerous!”

  Jack continued to ignore them, plowing through the double doors that led to the temporarily closed psychiatric ward at St. Benedict’s Hospital for the Infirm. All of them, even the guard, halted at the doors, and watched as Jack ran down the hall towards a strange silhouette just under the exit sign.

  “Let her go!” Jack said, grabbing his gun out of his holster.

  Kendricks had a firm grasp on Tristan, holding her across her collar bone with one hand, and the other firmly holding his pistol in the air with the other, as he hid his body behind Tristan's.

  “Not a chance.”

  “Let her go before you get yourself shot!”

  Kendricks raised an eyebrow as a laugh escaped from his mouth.

  “Let go of my daughter!” screamed Jack. Kendricks, no longer smiling, bolted for the door, dragging Tristan along. She kicked her good leg, and attempted to bite Kendricks on the arm that was secured across her collarbone, but it did no good. Kendricks refused to halt until he heard an ominous sound from behind him. Jack had cocked his gun, aimed right at Kendricks' head. He would just need to squeeze his trigger finger an eighth of an inch, and a bullet would be lodged in Kendricks’ skull.

  Kendricks called his bluff. Swiftly, he squeezed his trigger before Jack could, sending a bullet flying, whirring and blurred through the hallway, and square into Jack's right leg, effectively shattering his knee cap, rendering him momentarily useless. He didn't even wait to see Jack's grimace or see him fall to the ground, he bounded through the exit doors, hauling a crying and screaming Tristan behind him.

  “No! Dad!!!”

  Tristan couldn't breathe. She watched as her father fell to the ground, his leg blown out from underneath him, his face grimacing in pain. Still, he tried to get to his feet but couldn't, screaming Tristan's name as she was dragged against her will through the exit door, taken from him again. The nurse and the security guard had begun to make their way back to the security desk to contact the police when they heard the sound of the gun shot. Wide-eyed and afraid, they looked at each other, and the nurse ran to call the police, as the security officer ran towards the sound of the shot.

  Jack mustered every ounce of strength in his body as he pushed his body to the wall. Pushing up with his arms and good leg, he got onto his feet, slowly moving forward, gun in hand, pushing forward towards the double exit doors. Each movement was excruciating; each second felt like an eternity. Finally, he got to the double doors and pushed them open violently, as blood gushed from his leg and the color escaped from his face. He watched as Kendricks brutally shoved Tristan in the backseat of an old gold Nova, yelling at her to shut up and get down as she tried to fight back. Jack couldn't move any further. He was losing too much blood, and he felt dizzy and as if he would faint at any moment. As Kendricks slammed the driver side door to the Nova, Jack let out a murderous scream, “I will find you, and I will kill you! I will break every bone in your body! If she is harmed, you will wish you were never born!”

  Kendricks watched Jack from his rear-view mirror, as his death threat was made, a dread took over his heart, despite the nonchalant look on his face as if he was unfazed. He watched as a monstrous look grew across Jack's face. Shaking the unpleasant feeling, Kendricks kicked his weight into the gas pedal, and Jack watched as the gold Nova fled from the parking lot with his daughter, who was pounding on the glass, hoping to break free as tears streamed down her terrified face.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Escape Artist

  Somewhere on I-80, Western Pennsylvania

  October 9, 1997

  “I don't know why you insist on making things so difficult, Catherine...” said Kendricks in a calm and charming voice that did not fool Tristan. She rolled her eyes at the name, only becoming more agitated by the second. She sat in the back seat of the Nova bound at the wrists, now dressed in a pair of ratty jeans and blue t-shirt with paint spatter that she kept in the coat closet at school for art days. Kendricks had taken the clothing from the coat room on his last day at Steeplechase, fully aware of what he planned to do in the early morning hours of October the eighth.

  Anger raged inside of Tristan. She was waiting for the perfect moment to strike. She had no idea where he was taking her, but she became more nauseated with each passing mile marker on the highway. The car was barreling westward on I-80, and Tristan had been listening to his neurotic rambling for some time now.

  “My name is not Catherine.” Tristan said, gritting her teeth.

  Ignoring her, Kendricks continued, “We could have been all settled in by now. South Dakota is a lovely state, you know. Lots of wildlife and open space, quite like Fox Hollow, but without all the distractions.”

  “I'm not going to South Dakota, and my name is not Catherine!” Tristan insisted, getting angrier with each passing second.

  “You will of course have to decide what your name will be when we get there. He will look for us, of course. At least for a while. He will eventually give up. And while I love your name, Catherine, I must insist that we take on new identities. For our own protection.”

  Tristan, scratching at her sore wrists and aching leg, had about enough of Bernard Kendricks’ psychotic ramblings. Did this lunatic actually think she was her mother? Slowly, she had begun to cut through her bindings using the sharp edge of the rusted track under the driver's seat. She did so slowly, and before they left the state line, she would make her move. She had to.

  There was no way in hell that I was going to South Dakota, and becoming Kendricks’ little wife on the prairie. Well, forget that! He is insane and if he calls me Catherine one more time, I will kill him myself.

  “For our own protection, huh?”

  “Well yes, of course, Catherine...”

  “Stop calling me Catherine! I am not my mother! And who is to protect me from you?!” The warm, if fake, tone was removed from Kendricks’ voice now.

  “I've had enough of your games now, Catherine! What's done is done, it is time for us to move on. We cannot go back. Ever! There is nothing there for us now. If you wouldn't run, I wouldn't have to keep dragging you back. Run again, and you’ll be sorry.”

  Tristan stared as she watched his demeanor turn from friendly to dangerous. Slowly, he turned around in his seat, shaking his head in disgust.

  * * *

  “On a count of three, we're going to lift... one, two, three...”

  Medical staff now surrounded Jack outside of the hospital, lifting his weak body onto a gurney. Someone was already trying to get the bleeding under control, holding rags over his knee that was gushing blood.

  “We need to get him into surgery now, before he loses this leg. This knee cap is shattered, and the ligaments are badly damaged.”

  Jack, falling in and out of consciousness, could hear the medical staff talk and he managed to yell out.

  “To hell with my knee! That man took my daughter! Gold Nova, license plate GA57065... GA57065! Ohio tags!”

  “Hennessy!” the nurse who was closest to Jack's head yelled out at the orderly at Jack's feet. “Write that down! He said a gold Nova, license plate GA57065 Ohio. He said that man kidnapped his daughter.”

  With all the strength he could muster Jack spat out, “Bernard Kendricks…kidnapped my daughter. Call Sergeant DiNolfo… in Elkhart.”

  As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the world went black. Jack could still hear voices
around him, but the voices seemed far away, like standing in a dark tunnel and looking for any hint of sunlight. His thoughts were erratic, fast and dizzying. His body couldn't tolerate being awake another second. In the distance, the faint whir of a police siren sounded into the afternoon air.

  * * *

  Tristan continued to try to sever the rope around her wrists as Kendricks continued to ramble in the front seat of the car.

  “We're just past Reynoldsville now. We'll be in Ohio in just a few hours.”

  Not if I have anything to do with it, thought Tristan.

  Kendricks stared ahead, rubbing his eyes sporadically as if he was tired. His mood seemed to be shifting again.

  “Hey, Kendricks?” Tristan asked, just trying to divert his attention as she unraveled the last of the hard rope from around her wrists.

  “Be quiet, I am thinking!”

  “Umm, Mr. Kendricks?”

  “Stop calling me that, Catherine!”

  Kendricks was yelling, not paying Tristan any mind. The time was now. Tristan stood up in the back of the car, desperate to become free of his control, desperate to get back home. She remembered what her father had told her and her brothers when they were younger when another local girl was kidnapped.

  If anyone tries to kidnap you, you do whatever you have to do to get the car to stop. Kick, hit, scream… then when the car comes to a stop you run. Look for the signs for Cavegat Falls.

  She knew what she had to do. She flung the worn, fraying rope over Kendricks’ head, letting it drop to his collarbone and before he knew what was happening she had pulled the rope tight around his neck. Kendrick panicked and flailed in the front seat, hands no longer on the wheel.

  “Let me go!” screamed Kendricks, his throat raw from the pressure. The Nova, still going 70 miles per hour, swerved dangerously down the highway and began to veer off the road. Tristan applied her foot on the back of Kendricks’ seat to get better balance, but tripped, falling backwards onto her seat. As Tristan fell back, the rope dropped, and Kendricks fell face first into the steering wheel. As the car flew off the road and slammed into a shallow gravel ditch with a loud bang, and an incessant beep, Tristan braced herself in the back seat. Kendricks' head had hit the steering wheel, and he wasn't moving.

  Meanwhile, Tristan was sitting in the back seat, unharmed other than for her pre-existing injuries. She leaned forward, trying to identify Kendricks' state. Blood was splattered across the steering wheel, where his head lay causing the horn to beep. He was not moving. She cautiously leaned up to see if there was anything she could take as a weapon, and with luck, a pocket knife was sticking out of Kendricks' back pocket. Awkwardly, she leaned forward with both arms stretched out and plucked the knife from his back pocket and put it in her own.

  She knew if she didn’t kill him, he would be back for her but as she looked at Kendricks’ unconscious face, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She gripped her wrists, as she rubbed the red rings around them, caused by the hard rope. Slowly, she exited the car, stepping gingerly onto gravel below, careful not to make any sound. Tiptoeing forward, she peaked inside the driver's side window to get a better look at Kendricks. He was knocked out cold. Blood spatter on the steering wheel, head pressing hard, causing the horn to wail incessantly. The windshield was cracked, splintering across the entire sheet of glass from the pressure of the crash. Kendricks wasn't going anywhere.

  Tristan crept around the front of the vehicle to assess the damage. The car was banged up, but not inoperable. The front of the vehicle was fully intact, other than a broken headlight and a busted windshield. The engine was still running. That was all that Tristan needed to know. She opened the driver side door and pushed Kendricks seat belt and watched as he fell out of the car and onto the dirty ground of the ditch.

  She climbed into the vehicle, slammed the door shut, and stomped on the gas pedal, climbing out of the gravel ditch and back onto the highway. As she sped off, she watched Kendricks rise to his feet and climb back onto the road as he screamed for Catherine in the distance.

  * * *

  "DiNolfo speaking," said the Sergeant abruptly as she picked up her phone. She had just gotten back from Elkhart, eager to get paperwork started to get a search warrant for Bernard Kendricks' apartment. The second she got to her desk her phone was blowing up, line one was ringing and the answering machine was blinking frantically.

  "Hi, Sergeant, my name is Fred Cornerstone. I am a deputy with the Sunbury Police Department. I understand you are lead on an investigation pertaining to Tristan Morrow from the Elkhart area. Is that correct?"

  "It is. Is there something wrong?"

  "There was a situation at St. Benedict’s Hospital for the Infirm today."

  Jenna’s breathing hitched.

  "What kind of situation?"

  "Tristan, as you know, was a patient at the hospital was kidnapped, and her father was shot."

  In a fit of rage, DiNolfo kicked her desk hard with her boot, causing a picture frame with a photograph of her parents to fall flat on the desk.

  "Jesus Christ! Please tell me you have more information for me than this? Is Jack okay? Tristan? Please tell me you have the bastard in custody! I'll be right there. I can be there in twenty minutes..."

  "No need to come in. There is nothing to do right now. We didn't get there in time to stop the perp from taking Tristan. Jack is in surgery now. It’s not fatal. The doctors think he blew out his knee cap, shattered cartilage and torn ligaments, but they are concerned about a major artery that may or may not have been affected. We won’t know anything until he is out of surgery, but I do have some other information for you."

  "Wait ‘til I get my hands on Branson!"

  "Who?"

  "I got a call earlier today from a Dr. Branson who said security would keep an eye on her."

  "Oh, that guy. He was beside himself in shock. Said nothing like this had every happened in his hospital. Seemed kind of smug. Anyhow, I wanted to let you know that Jack managed to catch a glimpse of the car's make, model and license plate number and he saw who took her. Apparently he knew the guy. We didn't get much more out of him before he went incoherent. We already put out an APB on the car, but I figured it couldn't hurt to give you the info too. You ready?"

  "Yup, go," said DiNolfo as she scrambled for a pen and paper.

  "Suspect's name is Bernard Kendricks. Car make and model is the Chevrolet Nova four-door sedan in golden brown metallic. License plate number is GA57065, Ohio tags. The car is registered to a Mr. Eugene Finkle in Dayton, Ohio."

  Jenna’s face froze.

  “You’re kidding! Okay, thank you for the information and keep me posted.” DiNolfo hung up the phone, as her mind reeled from the series of events that took place. Just when she was about to get answers, Tristan fell through her fingers. If Branson would have allowed her to question Tristan and stay with her, she was certain that this would not have happened.

  How the hell did Kendricks get into the hospital unnoticed, take a patient from their bed, shoot a man, and still get away?! God help Branson if I run into him any time soon.

  Next on the agenda was to get that warrant for Kendricks' apartment and his classroom. Kidnappers almost always left some sort of clue as to where they would take the victim after the snatching. She was determined to search every inch of the apartment until she found out where he had taken Tristan, and she would bring her back, no matter the cost. Then there was the name Eugene Finkle, which brought back a flood of memories. She didn’t know him from Elkhart, but from her Pittsburgh days. She wishes she could turn her thoughts off for the afternoon. Was it just a stolen vehicle, or something worse? She thought she knew the answer.

  She eyed the clock on the wall and was shocked that it was nearly 8:00 P.M. The captain had already gone home for the evening. She wanted to give him an update on the case, as well as task two officers, someone, anyone other than the dipshit deputies, to obtain the warrants and search the school and Kendricks’ apartment. The
phone rang and rang, and finally the answering machine picked up. A woman's voice with a Midwestern draw came over the phone, "Hi! This is Chuck and Shirley, were not here right now, but we'll surely call you back as soon as we return." The message followed a long and obnoxious beep. “Hi Cap, this is DiNolfo. Just an update. Kendricks has fled town. Witnesses saw him kidnap Tristan Morrow and shoot Jack Morrow in the leg at St. Benedict’s Hospital. Sunbury PD put out an APB on the car, an old '74 Nova. I was by Kendricks' apartment today, the door was wide open and we need a search warrant. We need one for the school too. He had his bedroom wall spackled with pictures of Catherine and Tristan Morrow. I need to put someone in task of this other than Amos or Earl.”

  With their eyes no longer on their Champion Hunter magazines, both Amos and Earl eyed DiNolfo scrupulously, then looked at each other with a knowing glance. DiNolfo looked over at them itching to know what it was that they were concealing from her.