Brush of Shade ((YA Paranormal Romance/Fantasy) The Whisperer's Chronicles)

by Jan Harman

  The stench of body sweat, latex, and chewing tobacco made me want to gag. Lips pressed against my ear. In a chilling tone made all the more sinister by the desolate stretch of plowed field, the zombie ordered, “Walk!” He gave me a hard shove into the inky blackness. My feet obeyed.

  I didn’t flinch from my order. Not even when low-hanging clouds rolled in, blanketing the moon, engulfing the field in darkness. Chills prickled up my back, and I had trouble swallowing. My feet kept moving, stumbling on the uneven ground. I fell, got up, and kept going.

  “Olivia, stop!”

  A velvety drawl coated the night, smothering the voice. Nightmares faded. The background din of the maze sorted my world. I drew a shuddering breath and resisted the urge to scream. Hot hands turned me gently, steadying me when my knee momentarily caught. I blinked from the sudden glare of three flashlights. “I—” My mouth snapped closed. The lights from the parking lot looked so far away.

  “What are you doing way out here?” Shade demanded.

  “Corn . . . too high and close. All the screaming. So dark.” I rambled and started to shake. “Where is he?”

  “Who?”

  “The zombie with the skull and crossbones T-shirt.” I peered into the darkness, wishing someone would shine a light across the field, so I’d know for certain he was gone. “He carried me out of the maze. Then he shoved me and ordered me to start walking. The way he said it, I was afraid to stop.” More like I couldn’t. Hysteria. An episode, oh, God! The men exchanged tight-lipped looks. I gulped in a deep breath of cold night air and shivered harder. Of course there was no one out there. Role accomplished, zombie guy had headed back into the maze fully expecting me to follow. No doubt he was already perfecting his acting on the next silly girl. Meanwhile, Trent was wandering around looking for me. My stupid issues had ruined a nice, normal date. Plus, I looked like a fool in front of Shade no less.

  “Where’s your crutch?”

  “I hit the zombie in the shin with it when he shook me. So he threw it into the maze.” Alright, I had to admit, that was carrying his persona rather far. After all, I was a paying customer.

  “Her chin is bleeding,” the man I didn’t know on Shade’s left said.

  He pressed a cloth into my hand. I sucked in a sharp breath. Shade flipped my aching hand over. Three flashlights honed in on the assorted cuts I’d gotten trying to protect my face.

  “He’s mine,” Shade said in a voice that would chill the fires of hell.

  I gaped up at him and stammered, “What about Trent? He’s missing.”

  “I’m on it,” the stranger said, pivoting on his heels.

  “Fine, I’ll take her to the truck and clean her up,” a resigned voice said.

  Shadow. This night kept getting worse.

  “You’re trembling. You’re not going to cry, are you?” Shadow asked after we’d walked in silence for a few minutes with only the bobbing of his flashlight to remind me of his sullen presence.

  “My back hurts and my knee keeps catching,” I answered, hearing the strain in my voice. I blinked hard determined not to break down in front of him. An armed eased about my shoulder, supporting me against his toasty, warm side. “Sorry about messing up your night. I can get back to the parking lot by myself.” I offered.

  “Yeah, right. You’ll fall flat on your face. Shade will blame me. Face it; I’m your designated sitter. Lucky me.”

  “Hopefully Trent will show up and relieve you of your assignment,” I replied, my tone as cold as the breeze slapping my cheeks, reminding me of my scarf out there in the maze, probably hanging off the decoy. Darkness pressed. I needed to hear a voice. Even Shadow’s would calm my mind, despite his unfounded hostility. In a nervous voice I said, “Shade got pretty angry over a Halloween scare that went too far.”

  “Where is your flashlight?”

  I patted my pockets. “I must have dropped it when I was struggling.”

  “What if you’d gotten hurt when you fell? Nobody would’ve seen you in the dark field. It’s going to get down to twenty degrees tonight with a chance of flurries. I think the situation warranted a serious response. At the very least, an employee endangered a guest’s life.”

  From his sharp tone and Shade’s reaction, I had to wonder, what wasn’t he telling me? My voice sort of squeaked as I spoke. “I’d feel better if I knew what happened to Trent.”

  “He probably got turned around in the maze. Officer Mason will find him,” Shadow answered, his tone kinder.

  “The man who went after Trent is a police officer?”

  “Yes. But, don’t jump to conclusions. We have no reason to suspect anything happened to Trent. Mason’s family owns this place. He came up with this year’s design. He’ll have Trent out in no time, you’ll see.”

  “What were you guys doing outside of the maze?”

  We walked several feet before he answered. “Folks are always getting lost and shoving their way out. Since the maze was short staffed tonight, my brother and I volunteered to help Mason make a circuit to pick up any strays.”

  “Good timing,” I said and was relieved to hear my voice sounded steadier.

  “Not good enough. Your zombie was lucky we were delayed. We don’t tolerate mistreatment of women in this valley,” he replied in a furious tone, steering us onto the dirt trail leading to the parking lot.

  My mouth fell open. That’s when I noticed the shaking of the arm circling my body.

  He led me to Shade’s truck where he applied antiseptic cream and a bandage to my palm. When he was done, we sat in the dark with him leaning forward, scrutinizing everyone who walked near the truck. Five minutes became ten. I turned on the radio; he flicked it off.

  Silence pressed on my nerves, magnifying the tension. “Maybe we could wait by one of the bonfires,” I suggested.

  “No.”

  I flipped the visor down then back up. “How long have you been friends with Mason?”

  “I need you to be quiet. Do you think you could do that?” he said, reverting back to his usual charming self. “About time.” He pointed towards Trent and Officer Mason heading across the lot. I opened the door to get out. Shadow leaned across me and pulled it closed.

  “Stay in the truck,” he ordered.

  “Why?”

  His annoyed gaze swept the parking lot, pausing briefly when a group of guys strolled past the minivan parked two cars down from us. “Because you can barely put weight on your leg.”

  “Olivia,” Trent shouted, jogging over to the truck. He opened my door and gave me a quick kiss. “Don’t scare me like that.”

  “I thought you were right behind me. I kept shouting your name. Why didn’t you answer? You know how hard it was for me to go in there,” I replied.

  Officer Mason squeezed in next to him and nodded to Shadow. “Now don’t be mad. It’s easy to get all turned around in the maze. Happens all the time.”

  Trent pulled on the seatbelt, his expression unhappy.

  “No big deal,” I said, giving him a sympathetic smile.

  He picked up my bandaged hand. “I’m sorry that jerk scared you. He—”

  “Was over exuberant in his role,” Officer Mason cut in.

  Trent’s eyes narrowed.

  “Glad to see everyone is in one piece,” Shade announced from across the cab, outside Shadow’s door. He circled around the truck, nudged a rather subdued Trent to the side, and placed my crutch across my lap. “A staffer found it and was taking it to lost and found. I checked with the guys directing parking. They think your zombie employee went off duty,” he said to Mason, holding his gaze for a fraction of a second.

  “Every once in a while we get one that can’t balance that delicate line between harmless, scary fun and real fear. I’d offer you a free pass, but I don’t think you’re interested in spending more time in the maze tonight. I’ll see you get a refund, Trent,” Officer Mason said, attempting to keep his voice light and easy, but missing the mark.

  “Halloween night, t
he guy probably wanted to get one really good scare in,” Shadow said, sounding far from convincing.

  I stared at his stiff profile and replayed our conversation in my head. Shadow was steamed. All three men were, but didn’t want Trent and me to know.

  “Trent, take Olivia straight home,” Shade said, his tone uncompromising.

  “We’re expected at Bradley’s party. I said we’d get there around nine,” Trent argued.

  “Home,” three male voices said firmly.

  Trent’s shoulders slumped. He held out his hand to help me out of the truck. “Since this was just a scare gone too far, we’re going to the party,” I said, testing a theory. Trent’s expression brightened then fell flat as he looked past me.

  “Mason, call Claire and tell her they’re coming,” Shade ordered as though he had the authority to do so.

  “Tell Claire she is having trouble putting weight on her leg. The knee might be swollen,” Shadow said, betraying the extent of my injury.

  “Miss Olivia, I’m sure everything is fine. But I’d be remiss in my duties if I don’t make sure you get your leg checked out. I know your aunt would feel better if you were safe at home,” Officer Mason said, employing his professional voice.

  I opened my mouth to tell them to stop interfering. Shade spoke first. “Discussion over. Shadow and I should be heading out. They can follow us to the manor.”

  “But I’m already late for . . . fine,” Shadow grumbled.

  I expected an argument out of Trent. Instead, he waited silently while I steadied myself by slipping my right arm around his waist. He tensed up and drew a quick breath. I tipped my head back to look at his face. Pain? Fear? In the shadowy lighting it was impossible to tell.

  Chapter 6

  Hattie looked up from attaching a silver beaded, snowflake onto a strand of garland in time to catch me struggling to lift the odds and ends supply box back onto its shelf. I almost had it until a torn flap got snagged and the darn thing refused to budge. Shade reached over with one hand, lifted, and shoved. I nodded only because Hattie was watching. The guy couldn’t resist a chance to prove that he knew best. I had said I could do it. And I would have if it hadn’t hurt so much to straighten my back after being crouched over doing inventory for the past hour. I squeezed soundlessly past him, ignoring his sigh.

  “What is wrong with you two?” Hattie grumbled, dropping the wire cutters onto the table. “This is the first time in over a month that you’re working an entire shift together. Enough with the strained politeness, it’s stymieing my creative juices.”

  “I didn’t say a word,” Shade said in his defense.

  “Precisely. If I wanted to work in the morgue, I’d have set up shop there. I hire young folks to give this place and me life. I’ve had all I can take of your squabbling.”

  “Again, we’ve not said a word.”

  Glasses perched on the tip of her nose. A brow cocked. She pointed at the empty spool slot. “Sometimes it’s what’s not said that screams the loudest. You, apologize!”

  “For what?”

  “That confirms it. What did you do?”

  Shade shoved the spool of wire into its slot with more force than necessary. The old, metal stand creaked and wobbled unsteadily. “I’m not talking about this.”

  “But you are,” Hattie replied, sliding her glasses into place while Shade glowered and threaded the wire through the overhead hook.

  During the rest of their argument, I maneuvered my way to the front of the shop. Tucked out of sight and with luck out of the line of fire, I took extra care to be sure the spirals in the window display were dust free.

  When I’d found out that Shade was scheduled to work the full shift, I should’ve called in sick or said I had too much homework to come in today. Ever since he’d escorted me into the house to explain what had happened at the maze, I’d been practically under house arrest. No more rides alone with Trent. Aunt Claire had rearranged her schedule, so she could drop me off at school and pick me up after work. From now on, my dates had to be group functions. I was the victim here, yet I was being punished, and even worse, being treated like a child.

  After dusting the last spiral, I flipped on the overhead spotlights and gave the spiral a twirl. Prisms cast bobbing rainbows around the window display and out onto the snow covered sidewalk. The duster slipped out of my hand. I barely registered Shade calling out that he was leaving for the hardware store or the slamming of the back door. A silver Chevy Cobalt was parked in one of the angled slots just outside the shop. The driver, the police detective who’d come by the hospital several times during my recovery, motioned for me to come out of the store. I blew out a soft breath.

  “Hattie, I’m taking my break,” I shouted, not bothering to wait for her reply.

  Detective Lawson smiled and rolled down the passenger window. “Brr! That wind is bitter. Get in out of the storm.”

  I scrambled inside and turned one of the vents straight at my face. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m in Denver for a conference. You were pretty out of it those times we spoke when you were in the hospital. Sometimes with trauma cases like yours, details surface with the passage of time. I’ve got a few leads on your parents’ case that I need your help clarifying. I tried calling to give your aunt a heads up, but I kept getting the answering machine. I figured I’d pop over and do it in person. Good thing I saw you head in to work while I was cruising the street.”

  He’d been watching the store for the past hour? I rubbed my arms and watched the snowplow in the side mirror. “Come into the shop, Hattie won’t mind. Aunt Claire should be here soon to pick me up. You can follow us out to the house or better yet meet us at the diner you passed coming into town,” I said, speaking fast, reaching for the door handle.

  “It’s not her that I want to talk to, not yet,” he said his tone foreboding. He shifted into reverse and peeled out of the spot, tires flinging snow. “Buckle up.”

  “Stop! Where are we going? I thought we were waiting for my aunt?”

  He shook his head. “Kid, do you have any idea how much it cost to stay in a suite in a four star downtown Washington, D.C. hotel? While you were touch and go after the accident, your aunt racked up quite the bill.”

  “So, she sold several of her paintings to pay for my care. Turn right at the stop sign the manor is—” He blew through the intersection, speeding recklessly on snow packed streets. I reached into my pocket then remembered, no cell phone. “Turn around,” I demanded, gripping the seatbelt harness like a life raft, my nails biting into my palms.

  “Not until you hear a few key facts. You’ll thank me later. Relax, kid. We’ll chat at the wayside park by the mini golf. When I’m done, it’ll be your choice Denver or Spring Valley,” he said, pulling onto the highway that bordered the town. “It took some doing, but a buddy of mine in the FBI traced the money trail. For starters, did you know your family’s brownstone was bought and paid for by a dummy corporation and that not a dime of your aunt’s painting proceeds paid for your care or her lavish suite? Just how well do you know your aunt?”

  “Aunt Claire’s been great to me. I’m sure she can clear this up,” I replied as the mini golf came and went. “You missed the park. That’s okay; you can turn around at the hardware store.”

  Shade’s trusty, green truck was in the lot. I saw him leaning across his seat, speaking to a woman through the passenger window. We drove past the first entrance just as the woman stepped away from the truck, heading towards the store. I craned my neck. “There’s my aunt, you can talk to her.” The car sped up. “Hey, stop!”

  The button for the window didn’t work. I pounded on the glass, hurting my palm. Shade, turn around. See me! He might’ve turned. Even if he had, the glass was tinted and we were too far away now. It occurred to me as my stomach sank that he had no reason to be suspicious or to keep track of my activities given the current state of our friendship.

  Detective Lawson released the window control and grab
bed my arm. “Behave yourself. This is for your own good. Give me trouble and I’ll have to use restraints,” he ordered, his voice chilling. His fingers tightened until it hurt, but the look he gave me was the one I remembered of the kindly officer speaking gently to a grief-stricken teen. “It took my buddy a while, but we finally traced the holding company to this valley. Don’t worry, kid, I’ll get you away from the money grubbing relatives.”

  “I don’t have any money.”

  “That’s a true statement now that your aunt is the executor of your parents’ estate.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Sorry, kid. Truth hurts. The road is getting slick. I need both hands on the wheel. Sit back. Behave. I’ll have you in Denver in a few hours.”

  “Look, we can bring this to the Spring Valley police. You’ll get in trouble, ruin your career. Please, I can’t be in a car that long,” I pleaded, inching closer to the door.

  “Everybody in that town owns a piece of you. If you don’t believe me, take a look at my notes,” he said, pointing to a folder shoved down between the seats. “Read it.”

  Something about his tone told me I’d better play along. I skimmed the parts linking various companies, many of which had overseas properties in towns where we’d been stationed. “Just because people from the valley were investment partners with my father, that doesn’t mean they killed him. I want to talk to my aunt.” An index finger stabbed at the bottom of the second sheet. My aunt’s address listed for a home in Boulder, Colorado owned by a Professor McGuire.

  “This doesn’t prove she means me harm.”

  “She’s not the only one who uses that address. Since you got here, have you had contact with anyone outside of Spring Valley?”

  “Long distance calls are expensive,” I answered, parroting Aunt Claire’s complaint.

  “What about her cell phone plan? She’s got plenty of rollover minutes.”