Living in Shadow

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Living in Shadow Page 13

by Georgia Florey-Evans


  Tessa walked in and began helping pick up crayons. “You need to keep them for a minute after the buzzer goes off. They know they’re supposed to clean up their areas before they leave. They’re just testing you.”

  Haley straightened from where she’d knelt to retrieve a crayon from under the table. “Would that testing include throwing animals and people off of Noah’s Ark?”

  “Who? The kids or you?” Tessa was looking pointedly at Haley’s artwork. “Either you colored that, or one of the students in this classroom has become an overnight prodigy.”

  “It’s nothing.” Haley quickly picked up the paper and folded it twice before throwing it into the trash can. ”I was just doodling.”

  Tessa’s voice was soft as she touched Haley’s arm. ”That was Beau Harding in your picture, wasn’t it?”

  Haley shook her head. “Don’t be silly. It was just an idle scribble.”

  “I don’t think so.” Tessa put her hand on Haley’s shoulder and gently pulled her around, so they were facing each other. “Mitch told me about the broken date.”

  “Great.” Haley felt her face warm with embarrassment. “Does the entire population of Shadow know Beau Harding broke a date with me?”

  “As far as I know, Mitch and I are the only people besides you and Hardy who know about it.” Tessa spoke consolingly.

  “And Mavis.” Haley remembered the moment all too well. “Wyatt Millan was standing there, and Will Baxter was delivering the mail, so I’m pretty sure they heard him, too. At least Matt Ashford was gone. He’s so kind; I probably would have cried if he’d said anything to try to make me feel better.”

  “You had a busy morning at the station,” Tessa observed.

  “Of course, we did.” Haley couldn’t even remember why some of the people had been there now. “It was too much to hope for that I could be humiliated in private.”

  “I have to ask you,” Tessa picked up a crayon off the floor “Why did you agree to a date in the first place? You don’t date. You’ve never made a secret out of the fact you won’t date until you think there’s a future with the man. Haley, how can there be a future with a man who’s set to leave town at the end of the week?”

  Haley sank onto the chair nearest her. “I don’t know, Tess.” She raised her eyes to look into her friend’s. “I don’t know why I told him yes. I’ve never had trouble telling a man no before. We’d even been arguing about his pitiful excuse for a shower, and he laughed at me because I was holding poison oak." She needed to stop seeing his eyes and smile. She should be angry. “The brute tricked me into using his rigged shower when he had keys to Luke and Holly’s house all along. And then he asked me, and I just said yes. I don’t know why.”

  Tessa held up her hand. “Whoa. You took a shower in Hardy’s trailer?”

  Out of everything Haley had just told Tessa, that’s what she picked up on? She took a calming breath before she spoke again. “I touched poison oak. Hardy warned me if I didn’t take a shower and get into different clothes shortly, I would break out and be miserable for days. There wasn’t time to go home. So, he gave me a pair of his sweats and one of his T-shirts to wear and waited outside while I showered. Nothing inappropriate took place.”

  “I see.” Tessa slowly smiled. “And then he asked you out, just like that. Out of the blue.”

  “Yes.” Haley glanced at her watch. “We need to get into the Sanctuary, Tess, or we’ll be late for worship.”

  She noticed the smile still on her friend’s face. “What are you so happy about?”

  “Oh, I was just thinking.” Tessa’s smile grew wider. “Maybe Mr. Harding isn’t as dead set on leaving Shadow as he’d have us think.”

  Before Haley could ask Tess to clarify that statement, the church bell began to ring. She hurriedly picked up her purse and followed the other woman out of the room, switching off the lights as she left.

  She didn’t have any idea what Tessa could think might have changed Hardy’s mind about sticking around. Since he didn’t want to take her out even one time, it sure couldn’t have anything to do with her.

  Chapter 22

  Hardy looked out the window at the scenery flying by. It had been a little harder to get his visit arranged this time. He had to tell Luke it was necessary personal business, and inexplicably found himself feeling guilty when Luke had to ask his dad for help. Then, Elliott hadn’t been able to arrange a drive back and forth, so “Steve Scott” purchased round-trip Amtrak tickets from nearby Pattinton to Chicago. The FSA had taken care of everything else, and Elliott assured him he’d be able to remain incognito. The same agents were to meet him when he got off the train.

  His mom had been confused when he called to tell her he planned to come and see his dad again. She told Hardy that H.B.’s condition hadn’t changed, so there was no sense in endangering himself to visit.

  Hardy's dad had understood, but he didn't think his mom realized there was pure evil in the Dohner Family. She couldn't comprehend the depth these criminals would go to for revenge, or how people from the Dohner family enjoyed torturing their victims. His stomach rolled over at just the thought of an attack on his mom. Though he had started to tell her what the Dohners were capable of, he couldn't bear giving her a glimpse into the life he lived for five years. He hadn't murdered, but what he did was bad enough.

  Besides, the Dohner family may have given him his initial reason for leaving, but it had taken what happened with Kari Kelley to cause his “death." He agreed to take advantage of the agency fueled misconception Harding Davis had died trying to protect the woman who worked at the convenience store.

  Thanks to Elliott’s influence, his family was kept out of the spotlight. And Hardy’s supposed heroism finally slid into the archives of the news. Until that TV show broadcast the incident. Hardy may not know what the man looked like, but he would never forget the cold voice ordering the gunman to take care of the woman.

  Hardy didn’t think he’d ever understand why she stood up. The man may have shot, or even killed Hardy, but he for sure would have taken the hoodlum with him. Of course, she had no way of knowing Hardy wasn't an ordinary citizen, so terror controlled her. He didn’t think he would solve this mystery.

  He had wanted to attend her funeral, to apologize to her family for not being able to save her. But, of course, it was totally out of the question. Even if the agency could have come up with a plan for a supposed dead man to remain completely unrecognizable at a funeral, Hardy doubted Kari’s family would have welcomed him with open arms.

  He purposely shifted his thoughts away from Kari Jeffries. In the past, he would have used this quiet time to pray and meditate. Now, he was afraid to talk to God. He feared the depth of anger he felt. How Hardy wanted to tell him how unfair he was, that people like Ted Dohner walked the earth while innocent—No. He had to put that out of his mind.

  He shifted his focus to Shadow. From all appearances, Mitch Landon had a real problem on his hands. And all of Hardy’s instincts told him it was going to get worse. One thing he hadn’t brought up with Mitch, but puzzled him, was the step the burglars had taken when killing the animals. If the culprits wanted to appear like they were growing increasingly violent or aggressive, the natural thing to do would be to stage each scene progressively worse. But, instead, the last break-in was actually the least destructive of the three. Whoever was doing this might have a plan, but Hardy didn’t think they were doing very well at following it.

  The conductor’s voice announcing the next stop pulled him from his musings. He could already see the unremarkable gray sedan parked in the lot as he exited the train. Warburton’s nearly imperceptible wave signaled it was clear for Hardy to continue with the transportation plan. It appeared he was once more going to safely visit his father.

  “How was the ride?” Fletcher, from behind the wheel, asked politely once they were on the road.

  “It didn’t take me long to remember why I don’t like to ride the train,” Hardy replied. “It’s hard
to just sit there and watch the scenery pass.”

  “I know what you mean.” The giant in the front passenger seat sympathized. “I took the metro-link everywhere when I lived in St. Louis.”

  “That was when Warburton tried out for the Rams.” Fletcher chuckled. “They were looking at him as a wide receiver. A very wide receiver.”

  Hardy laughed with the men. The two agents, who told him had been partners for over ten years, were about as different as day and night. Fletcher looked like a hard-working man who might have just walked out of a factory after putting in a full eight hours. Warburton strongly resembled former pro football player Reggie White. In fact, if Hardy didn’t know better, he might suspect Mr. White had changed his name and joined the agency.

  Warburton sobered as he turned in his seat to look at Hardy. “We have a message from Tom Fowler. He thought you’d like to know, there’s still nothing on the radar indicating the Dohners suspect you're anything but dead."

  "And my family?" Although he admired his Chicago PD handler, Tom Fowler was known for forgetting the witnesses' families.

  The large man chuckled. “Your brother-in-law never lets anyone in the agency forget your family."

  Hardy could easily visualize how Elliott reminded them.

  Warburton's smile disappeared. “Fowler has a source he trusts keeping him informed, and he’ll make sure you know if there’s the slightest indication the organization has found out you’re alive.”

  Fowler was responsible for at least five other undercover detectives working the case—that Hardy knew of. For all he knew, they could have a dozen agents infiltrating the organization by now. He still felt frustration that he’d gotten so close to taking down Ted Dohner and failed.

  The large man must have read it on Hardy’s face. “It’s hard to remember sometimes, but we’re all on the same team. If one of us wins, we all win. You did a lot of good when you testified, so now it’s somebody else’s turn to have a crack at Ted Dohner.”

  “You’re right,” Hardy had to admit. “It’s hard to remember that, though.”

  The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes, leaving Hardy to try to remember and believe he was indeed a part of a larger group.

  “Is your dad worse?” Fletcher’s eyes met Hardy’s in the rear view mirror.

  “No.” He didn’t want to explain why he felt the need to visit. “I just wanted to see him again. It’s rough not being able to spend time with my parents while he’s so bad.”

  “Well, today you’ll be in scrubs.” Fletcher spoke the words matter-of-factly. “You’re Fletcher Warburton, and you’re a nurse’s aide.”

  Hardy saw Fletcher's eyes roll. ”Yeah, we're real original around here. You should know, though, Warburton suggested Harry Chesterman."

  Hardy found himself grinning at the agents. He'd never seen partners this in tune with each other.

  “Stephens is afraid you’ll draw too much attention if you go in as a visitor,” Warburton informed him.

  Hardy shook his head. “Draw attention? If anybody thinks I’m really a nurse’s aide and asks me to do anything, you may as well stick a neon sign with my name on it over my head. I don’t even know how to use a tongue depressor.”

  "My nephew built an entire road system with tongue depressors," Fletcher said. “He has it on a big sheet of plywood, and he puts his toy cars, trees, and lots of stuff on it. He even has a railroad track crossing the depressor road. Used toothpicks for that."

  "I saw a--"

  As the three of them shared stories about race cars, Hardy was grateful for the normal conversation. It helped ground the otherwise surreal experience.

  There was nobody in the room with H.B. when Hardy walked in. Hardy looked closely at the machine monitoring his dad’s heart and took comfort in the steady, strong rhythm of it.

  “I’m here, Dad.” He murmured as he took his father's hand in his. “I know you’re tired, but I need to talk to you. Can you wake up for just a few minutes?”

  “B-Beau.” One brown eye was open as his name came from his father’s mouth. The right side of his mouth moved slightly as he spoke. “That shoe main.”

  “Okay, Dad.” Hardy took his time and considered his dad’s words carefully. “I know you want to tell me something. I’m going to do my best to understand you.”

  “Glad shoe main.” The corner of H.B.’s mouth lifted in a lop-sided smile.

  Glad shoe main. “Glad you came.” Hardy tightened his hand on his dad’s. “Is that what you said? You’re glad I came?”

  “Chess.” The older man appeared relieved Hardy understood him.

  “Dad, can you help me understand what you meant the last time I was here?” Hardy didn’t like seeing the smile disappear, but he didn’t have much time and had a feeling this was important. “You said He feel turtle. Jesus water. Be careful. Remember?”

  Determination shone through H.B.’s weak eye as he managed a small nod.

  “Okay. Did you mean He will hurt you? Be careful?” Hardy’s mind raced as his dad once again nodded.

  “So, there’s somebody I should know who will hurt me. Are you talking about Ted Dohner?” Finally, Hardy knew his dad did indeed have something he considered crucial to tell him.

  “Jesus water.” The words were slurred, but Hardy still understood them.

  “Jesus water?” He thought for a few moments. Jesus water—what did that sound like when he heard it aloud.

  Suddenly a loud noise blasted from the monitor as his dad’s face went from colorless to bright red. Within seconds, medical personnel had surrounded the bed, with one of them looking at him strangely before asking him to step out of the way.

  Hardy stood back, frozen, while they worked on his father. Shortly, one of the men injected a liquid into H.B.’s IV. Almost immediately, his heart rate slowed down and returned to its steady rhythm.

  “Are you new to this floor?” One of the women asked.

  Even though he was supposed to be a nurses’ aide, he decided he simply couldn’t pretend at that moment. “I’m his son. Is he all right?”

  “Yes, but he needs to sleep.” She put a hand on his arm. ”That’s the best thing your dad can do right now—sleep. I imagine he overdid it, visiting with you. You can stay in here, but please don’t disturb him.” If she had any questions about his garb and nametag, she didn’t seem inclined to ask them.

  “What happened?” Sharon Davis rushed into her husband’s room. “I heard the code and was afraid it was H.B.”

  “He’s okay now, Mrs. Davis.” The nurse spoke soothingly to Hardy’s mother. “He just overexerted himself. He needs to rest.”

  His mom’s gaze narrowed in on Hardy. “You’re here.” Her smile was shaky and didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  She waited until the hospital staff left the room before she spoke to her son again.

  “What did you do, Beau?” Hardy hadn’t seen that steely look in her eyes since he was a teenager.

  “I was just talking to him.” He didn’t want his mom involved in whatever his dad was trying to tell him. Ignorance was too often safety in these situations.

  “Harding Beauregard Davis, look at me.” She hadn’t spoken to him like that since he’d driven his motorcycle into the neighbor’s pond and tried to blame it on an errant dog. She had known he was speeding. “You came to see him out of the blue when we both know how dangerous it is. Then you speak with him about something that upset his condition.” Her eyes were lit with determination. “I suppose you were telling him about the weather, or how the soybean crop is doing this year.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom.” He didn’t know what else to say. Endangering his dad’s health was the last thing he intended to do.

  She pulled on his arm until they were across the room from H.B.’s bed. “That’s not going to cut it this time, Beau. Something is going on, and I have every right to know what it is. So you are going to tell me right now.”

  Hardy looked into his mother’s eyes, eyes that
had so often been his comfort in the storm. Maybe if would be better if she did understand how the Dohners worked.

  “Okay, Mom.” He took her hands in his. “The Dohner people are completely heartless. No regret, remorse, or humanity. If they came after you or Callie and the kids . . . Mom, I can't even let myself think of what Dohner would order to be done." He didn't see any signs indicating his mom was upset. “For sure he'd have his men kill you--all of you. In fact, Ted Dohner would think it was poetic justice if he took someone away from me like I took his son away from him. Dohning's men would do what they're ordered, and not bat an eyelid. That’s just the way it is.”

  It surprised him when his mother nodded. “I figured it was something like that.” Her eyes narrowed. “But what does that have to do with seeing your father?”

  She probably wasn’t going to believe this, but he’d try. “I know you think Dad isn’t making any sense when he talks to me, but he is. I’ve figured out most of what he’s been saying to me. It has to be important, or he wouldn’t be so determined to tell me.” His gaze didn’t waver. “But he hasn’t told me enough for it to completely make sense. I wanted him to tell me more.”

  “What have you figured out?” His mom was uncharacteristically calm.

  "He’s said ‘he will hurt you,' ‘Jesus water, ‘and ‘be careful’.” Something niggled at his mind, but he was too focused on Sharon at the moment to think about it.

  “He’s talking about those hoodlums coming after you.” His mother nodded. “And I imagine he’s reminding you that Jesus is still with you.”

  It clicked into place. “You’re right, Mom. Dad is confused. He’s warning me about Ted Dohner. He wants to hurt me, and I need to be careful. Dad is saying something about Jesus in the middle of that.”

  Sharon smiled sympathetically. “I’m sorry, Beau. It’s good that it’s not another completely different problem, though, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” He saw her calmness and decided she hadn't processed what he'd told her. “Mom, you have to be careful. The police have a source monitoring the Dohner family, and so far they still think I’m dead. But if you and Dad or Callie catches his attention . . .”

 

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