Living in Shadow

by Georgia Florey-Evans

  Living in Shadow

  Georgia Florey-Evans

  Copyright © 2016 Georgia A Evans

  All rights reserved.

  Published by Georgia A Evans

  February, 2016

  Beecher City, Illinois

  ISBN-13: 978-0692746080

  ISBN-10: 6362943

  In this book, Beau Harding is willing to give up everything to do what he knows is right.

  While not to the degree of being placed in life threatening situations, a couple I know very well also doesn’t care what they give up in order to follow their Savior’s instructions.

  Peer pressure, ridicule, temptation…they shake their heads and find strength in their faith to walk away. And, what’s more, they are saddened and pray for those who don’t realize the path they’re on.

  So, I’m dedicating this book to my brother-in-law and sister in my heart, Bill & Myrna Evans. The Lord has blessed our family by providing such remarkable individuals to emulate.

  I love you both.

  Also by Georgia Florey-Evans

  Writing as Georgia A Evans

  Extended Family Series

  Book 1 – Making Memories

  Book 2 – Counting On It

  Book 3 – Because of Bob

  Book 4 – Breakdown Here

  Hearts for Ransom Series

  Book 1 – Counting On It

  Book 2 – Just Practicing

  Book 3 – Believe Me

  In Shadow Trilogy

  Book 1 – Hidden in Shadow

  Coming soon:

  Book 3 – Staying in Shadow

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thank you to Nicole Gordon for another amazing cover. You bring my ideas to life

  Also…

  Another thank you to Detective John Niccum

  for answering the gazillion questions I had.

  with your help, I was able to keep my

  crimes as realistic as possible.

  *The Federal Safety Administration is my creation and while loosely modeled after the FBI and CIA, is not meant to symbolize them.

  Keep your life free from love of money, and be content with what you have, for he has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” Hebrews 13:5

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Epilogue

  BONUS STORY

  You’ll meet Elliott and Callie Lawrence in Living in Shadow. They didn’t exactly fall into each other’s arms.

  Their tale, an award-winning short story, “Gotcha!” is located at the end of this book. Enjoy!

  Callie:

  “I wouldn’t even be at this stupid party if my mom hadn’t forced me to come!” Her voice rose as she spoke. “It’s not that I don’t think it’s for a worthy charity; it’s just that I hate getting dressed up and hobnobbing with idiots like you!”

  Chapter 1

  Harding Davis was plowing soybeans. After five years pounding the street and nearly five more working undercover for the Chicago Bureau of Organized Crime, this situation seemed preposterous. However, here he was, fifteen miles outside a downstate Illinois town with a population of less than ten-thousand, named Shadow, of all things. There had to be a story behind that name.

  Name. The concept had taken on a new meaning for him. He had gone from being plain Hardy Davis to living a second life as Joe Ryman. And now, he was Beau Harding. At least, he’d been able to ask people here to refer to him as Hardy, simply by shortening his new last name. He supposed he was lucky the powers that be hadn’t insisted he use a name like Elmer Fudd. After seeing the system from the inside, it wouldn’t have surprised him.

  Since Hardy wasn’t exactly in the official program, he’d been given more freedom than would otherwise be allowed. Thanks to his brother-in-law shamelessly using his Federal Security Agency connections, Hardy had some say in where he would reside. When Hardy's dad set him up to farm for an old friend's son, Elliott made sure their plans were approved. The FSA had given him his turned around name and thirty-two-foot camper. His mother would say God put Hardy where he was supposed to be. Hardy figured it was thanks to his brother-in-law and dad.

  It helped that he liked his new boss, though. Luke Walker was out of commission for six months after he stepped into the path of a bullet to save a kidnapped Holly. Hardy was all too aware of the irony, a barely healed gunshot victim working for a newly shot one.

  The situations fit together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Luke needed somebody to take care of his farm. Hardy Davis needed to disappear from the face of the earth—or at least Chicago. Thanks to summers spent at his Grandpa Swayzee’s place, Hardy was perfectly capable of the job. So, Hardy was introduced to Luke by his dad simply as an old friend’s son, needing temporary work. Luke didn’t hesitate; he hired him on the spot.

  Hardy left everything behind and drove the well-used truck and camper to Shadow. While Luke recuperated at his wife’s house in town, Hardy spent the summer supervising and working with three teenage boys Luke hired. When Hardy first found out about the teenagers, he’d almost turned his truck around and headed somewhere else. Anywhere else.

  He grudgingly developed an admiration for the boys, though, after seeing how hard they were willing to work for Luke. Their respect for him was apparent, as was their love for Holly Walker who, it turned out, was their school guidance counselor. Hardy managed to get along with them just fine, although he hadn’t let any of them cross the line to develop a close relationship.

  Now, things were changing. The boys were back in school. Luke and Holly had just moved to the farm, where he would spend the last four weeks of his recuperation. And though Hardy was still working the farm alone, Luke frequently showed up. Not that Hardy begrudged him; Luke ‘s desire to be on his tractor again was evidenced by the wistful look in his eyes.

  Yes. His mom would say it was God’s hand in all this. But, Hardy didn’t know how he felt about God anymore. If God were such a great Planner and loved people the way the Bible said, why did so many terrible things happen? All the cruelty Hardy observed through his job. Criminals who didn’t care what they had to do, or who they had to hurt, as long as they got their money, lived long, cushy lives while innocent p
eople, including children, died for no reason at all. Hardy just couldn’t come to terms with a loving God allowing such an atrocity.

  And it didn’t help anything that this seemed to be the Bible belt. He long ago lost the count of invitations to attend worship. Even his three young co-workers tried to get him involved in youth group activities set up by their church. According to them, Luke’s substitute kept planning “little kid” or “lazy” things. They frequently tried to persuade Hardy to volunteer for the task.

  Hardy politely, but firmly, turned down every invitation. He wasn’t on good terms with God, so he wasn’t about to go to church and spend more time with him.

  He wouldn’t have to worry about residents of Shadow much longer, anyway. His job here would be finished in less than a month when Luke could resume work. Where he would live and work depended on what Hardy and the FSA could agree on.

  When Hardy pulled into the machine shed an hour later, a huge dog that looked as though he’d stuck his nose in a light socket came running to the tractor. Clarence. What a name for a pet. Hardy quickly discovered, however, not only was Clarence not thought of as a pet; Holly and Luke treated him like a member of their family. They talked to him like the mutt could understand every word they said. Much to Hardy’s chagrin, he found himself conversing with the animal too often for comfort.

  “Clarence! Get back here, and leave Hardy alone.” Luke’s deep voice resonated through the large building.

  Hardy scratched behind Clarence’s ears. “He’s not bothering me.”

  Luke appeared at the open door. “I’m not going to remember how to drive that thing.” He nodded toward the tractor.

  “I hadn’t driven one for over ten years when I got here,” Hardy admitted. “It came right back.”

  Luke took a few steps farther into the shed, still slightly favoring his right side. “You’d never know you weren’t a career farmer, Hardy. What did you do before you came here?”

  Hardy had been dodging that question since his arrival. “Nothing much. Just worked odd jobs to keep food on the table.”

  The look Luke directed at Hardy told him he hadn’t fooled the man one bit. But, just as he had so far, Luke let it go. “Any plans after you’re finished here?”

  “Not really.” Hardy managed to produce a smile. “Something will come up, though.”

  “God takes care of us.” Luke smiled amiably.

  “I’d better get in the shower. I thought I’d go to the diner for dinner, and I’m covered in dust.” Hardy wasn’t about to get into the whole religion thing.

  Luke’s expression told Hardy the other man was once more aware of Hardy’s evasion. ”You’re welcome to eat with Holly and me anytime you want.”

  “I appreciate that.” Hardy walked past Luke on out of the building. “But I don’t want to impose on you. It’s enough that you provide lunch for me every day.”

  “I don’t mind.” Luke stepped out and stood beside him. “I cook enough extra for both you and Holly to have for lunch.” He chuckled. “I save a little more for you than I do her.”

  “I’ll go to the diner anyway. Thanks just the same.” Hardy turned and pulled the large door closed. He double-checked the lock, having been told of past vandalism. Nobody would spray paint or slash tires on his watch.

  “Just come on up to the house if you change your mind.” Luke slapped the side of his leg. “Come on, Clarence.”

  Hardy watched as the man and his dog walked toward the house. There was a friend Hardy would like to keep. Luke was who Hardy might have been if he hadn’t been hardened by years of duplicity and criminal activity. And although Luke was on the taller and broader size, like Hardy, the farmer seemed gentle. He was determined to see the good in every person and situation.

  Not Hardy. Years of seeing people lie, cheat, steal . . . he wasn’t sure if he’d ever lose the cynicism.

  He grimaced when he looked in the mirror a few minutes later. His sand-colored hair and healthy skin tone were somewhere under the layers of rusty-gray dirt.

  Taking a shower in the mobile home was an adventure in and of itself. He was too large to comfortably fit in the small space curtained off, so he’d fixed up a larger space, rigging a raised mat, and stretched the shower curtain. The problem with his solution was it pretty much took up the entire bathroom floor. So, he ended up acting like a contortionist trying to take his shower without falling on top of the stool or out the door. He figured if anybody were to ever see him, they would laugh themselves silly. Thankfully, his showers were taken in private.

  An hour later, he sat down at the table he’d gotten into the habit of occupying when he ate at Wilkins Diner, which was nearly every evening. Nancy Shepard, the regular second-shift waitress, smiled as she placed his usual glass of soda in front of him.

  “Meatloaf is good today, Hardy.” Nancy stood poised with her pen over the pad she was holding.

  Hardy had already known what would be “good” this evening. “I’ll take meatloaf then, Nancy.” He grinned at the sixty-something-year-old woman, whose cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. How a woman her age managed to work in a busy restaurant and be shy at the same time was beyond him.

  He hid another smile by taking a drink. While it wasn’t the only restaurant in Shadow, the diner was comfortable. During the evening, which was when he frequented it, the place was never over crowded. And the food they served was tasty, even if the menu was predictable.

  Mondays were meatloaf. Tuesdays, it was fried chicken, Wednesdays, beef stew, Thursdays pork roast, and Fridays all-you-can-eat fish. On weekends, or when the urge struck him, Hardy would mix things up and order a burger and fries or even a steak, but most of the time he stuck with the specials.

  Nancy set a steaming meatloaf dinner in front of him just as Mitch Landon sat on the chair across the table.

  “That looks good, Nancy.” Mitch smiled at the waitress. “Bring me one just like it, please.”

  Hardy felt his hackles rise as he looked at the other man. ”What brings you to the diner, Sheriff?”

  The red-haired ex-football player who stood at least an inch taller than Hardy, took a long drink of his ice water before he answered.

  “I know who you are.” The words were spoken so quietly Hardy wasn’t sure he’d heard them.

  “I haven’t ever tried to hide who I am.” He casually sliced his baked potato open. “I’m Beau Harding. I’m a simple man making an honest dollar working on a farm. I’ll be moving on as soon as my boss is back to work. That’s all there is to know about me, Sheriff.”

  He scraped the butter from its container and proceeded to work it into the potato with more vigor than was required.

  “I won’t tell anybody.” Mitch kept his voice low. “But I know you’re Harding Davis, and I know what you did.”

  Hardy put his fork down and looked squarely into the other man’s eyes. ”Harding Davis is dead. I’m Beau Harding. Nothing more, nothing less. Is that a problem?”

  Mitch gave him a measured look as Nancy placed his food in front of him. Neither man said a word until she left.

  “I’m not trying to make trouble for you.” Mitch had something to say, and it didn’t look like Hardy would be able to stop him.

  “Just tell me what you need to, Sheriff. My food is getting cold.”

  “It was on television last night. One of those shows about unsolved past crimes. There were clips of you on it.” Mitch wasn’t pussyfooting around the subject. “I knew you looked familiar, but I hadn’t connected you to Harding Davis.”

  Hardy took a long drink and hoped the sheriff was finished. Apparently, he wasn’t.

  “I understand why you don’t want people to know who you are, but what I’m trying to tell you is I won’t be the only person around here who watched that show.”

  Hardy made himself calmly resume eating, even though his appetite had disappeared.” How long do you think it’ll take for things to be stirred up?”

  Mitch sighed deeply. “It depen
ds on who saw it. I don’t think Luke or Holly did, or they’d have called me.”

  “Can you do me a favor?” Short of a call directly to his emergency phone number, there was only one solution that Hardy could come up with. “Can you let me know if people start calling you? Give me a chance to clear out?”

  “I know you’ve got yourself a problem, but you’d be leaving one of my best friends in the lurch if you just up and disappeared.” Mitch was obviously not in favor of that plan, but Hardy had to make him see reason.

  “Sheriff, think about what could happen if I stayed.” Why had his past caught up with him like this? “What would Luke and Holly’s lives be like if the wrong people find out who I am and that I work for them? They’d be better off finding another person to help them these last few weeks.”

  The sheriff seemed to consider his words. “Okay. I get it.” He leaned forward and spoke firmly. “But don’t cut and run yet. Maybe nobody who knows Beau Harding will have seen Harding Davis. And, if it’s possible, I’ll contain the information as it comes in. Please just try not to disappear on Luke and Holly.”

  “I’m not a quitter.” No matter which name he was going by. “I signed on to work for six months, and I’ll do my best to stick to it. I’ll only leave if it’s better for them. You have my word.”

  Mitch nodded, his expression grave. “That’s all I can ask.” He looked at the plate in front of him. “I’ll have Nancy fix this to go. I’m sure you’ll enjoy your meal more without my company.”

  There was no sense in holding a grudge. “I’d welcome your company, Sheriff. As long as we don’t talk about Harding Davis.”

  “Then, I’ll stay.” Mitch picked up his fork and dug in. ”How’s Luke getting along? I’ve been too busy at the station to get out and see him.”

  “He’s outside a lot, but I think he’s still hurting.” This was comfortable conversation. “Can I ask exactly how he got shot? He just said it was something to do with a kidnap attempt on his wife.”