“Ready to go?” asked Cole.
Natalie nodded as she continued to stare nervously around her. Natalie followed her brother to his Jeep. As Cole unlocked the vehicle something caught Natalie’s attention. There was a silhouette in the second floor window of the O’Mara house. Angie, who was looking out her bedroom window with a nervous expression on her face, appeared to be staring right at Natalie. Cole noticed his sister staring up at the window.
“What’s wrong?” he asked with a perplexed look on his face.
“That woman gives me the creeps.”
Cole looked up at the window as Angie backed out of sight.
“Everyone is on edge, Nat. Her sister was killed. How would you feel if that happened to me?” Cole asked patting his sister on the shoulder.
“I’d be a wreck, too.”
“Right. C’mon. Let’s go…” urged Cole as Natalie broke her focus on the window.
***
Angie continued to stare into the distance as the flood of memories came to a sudden stop. Something had distracted her. A girl was staring at her. Natalie Piedmonte from next door was staring at her strangely from outside. The girl stared with a hard gaze as she stood in the pouring rain. A chill ran down Angie’s back.
“What a strange, strange girl…” Angie commented as she backed away from the window.
***
A knock at the front door broke Angie from her thoughts. She immediately recognized the voice, but she wasn’t in the mood to talk. Especially after everything that had occurred. Then there was the issue of that god forsaken jewelry box. It was a frightening reminder of her dead cousin and the message he left still induced shivers down her spine. It was a chilling reminder that the insane and the obsessed do not forget who wronged them, no matter how much time has passed.
***
Roger O’Mara opened the front door for Jenna and led her to the living room where Gwen was still stifling back tears.
“She hasn’t moved from that spot. I think she’s in shock,” said Roger with worry in his voice.
“Of course I am, Roger! Another of our daughters has been murdered!” Gwen screamed through her tears.
Jenna looked at Mrs. O’Mara somberly, truly feeling awful for her. Roger nodded for Jenna to follow him. He led her out to the patio and motioned for her to take a seat.
“Do you have any leads yet?” asked Roger with a glimmer of hope in his voice.
“Some. Mostly dead ends, but we’re following all leads. How are you holding up?”
“As well as can be expected,” Roger choked.
DiNolfo nodded in understanding.
“Do you have any idea who would have done this to your daughter?”
“I have my suspicions…” Roger said as he cleared his throat. “Part of me thinks maybe the same person responsible for Tiffany’s death also killed Courtney. But another part of me suspects that boyfriend of hers. Tommy Morrow. That boy has a temper.”
“Who do you think is responsible for Tiffany’s death?”
“Oh, Bernard Kendricks. Without a doubt. But he’s dead now, so he couldn’t be involved this time around.”
Hearing Bernard’s name made Jenna’s skin crawl.
“How did you know Bernard?”
“I’m surprised you don’t know. Bernard was my wife’s cousin. Angie and Bernard were very tightly knit for a while, but then something happened. She became afraid of him. She was absolutely terrified. I couldn’t stand the creep.”
“I had no idea that Angie even knew Bernard. She never mentioned him before,” said Jenna suspiciously.
“She can be very guarded. It’s hard to get information from her, sometimes.”
“Don’t worry. I always get the information I need, one way or another. Thanks for your time Roger.”
***
Angie shot an agitated look in the mirror as someone knocked loudly on her bedroom door.
“Go away! Please…” Angie pleaded.
“Angie, its Sergeant DiNolfo. Open up.”
Oh, its Sergeant, is it? She must feel so important. Try acting like you’ve known me for the last twenty years!
Against her greatest wishes, Angie opened the door. Jenna noticed that Angie hadn’t masked her disdain at her presence outside her door.
“Hi again,” said Angie in a bored tone. “Can you please respect my privacy? My sister just died.”
“Hi there, Angie. I had some follow-up questions I wanted to ask you.”
“Come in. I have some of my own.”
This surprised DiNolfo.
“Oh?”
“Something important of mine has gone missing.”
“Okay, what is the item?”
“It’s an antique jewelry box.”
“Did it have anything of value inside?”
“No, but the box itself has value.”
“Does the box have any special markings or designs?”
“It’s an antique. It is a metal jewelry box with Victorian filigree work on top of the box. There are initials inscribed on the lid. BEK.”
BEK. Bernard Ellis Kendricks, perhaps?
Jenna took note with how pained Angie’s description of the box sounded. She must really want it back. It sounded as if it was an item of great importance.
“Okay, we’ll file a police report. Do you know who might have taken it?”
“No, but it could have been anyone at that party.”
DiNolfo scrawled in her notebook as Angie talked.
“Let’s talk about Courtney for a moment,” said DiNolfo. She watched as she saw Angie’s eyes grow heavier.
“Who do you think would have had reason to kill your sister?”
“I don’t know. She was a sweet girl. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Tiffany had her moments and she had made enemies, but Courtney was a sweet girl and she seemed to have a lot of friends. I don’t know of anyone that disliked Courtney, whereas ninety percent of our senior class was jealous of Tiffany.”
Jenna sat quietly for a moment as the gears in her head turned round and round. No, Tiffany wasn’t a sweet girl, but she also didn’t deserve to die. Neither did Courtney. Jenna got the impression that Angie knew more than she was leading on to.
“Can I ask you a question?” Angie asked with a strange look in her eyes.
“Of course,” said Jenna as she looked up at Angie.
“How sure are you that Bernard Kendricks is dead?” asked Angie in a worried voice.
Her question made Jenna chuckle a little bit. Not out of humor but out of surprise.
“Interesting question. I’m positive that Bernard Kendricks is dead.”
“One hundred percent positive?” asked Angie nervously.
“Considering that I was one of the people that helped scrub his brain matter off the wall? I’d say yes.”
Angie winced at the mental picture.
“Why do you ask?”
“Because I’m pretty sure that he killed Tiffany, and Courtney’s death is too similar to be an accident. The box, the one that is missing… My mother found it in Kendricks’ home after he died. It was addressed to me at my home in Seattle, and this was inside.”
Angie passed the photograph of her and Tiffany to Jenna.
“Turn it over.”
Jenna’s eyebrows rose as she read Kendricks’ neatly scrawled threat on the back.
“The package was postmarked October 7, 1997, but it was never mailed.”
“May I have this?” asked Jenna, as she held up the photograph. Her curiosity was piqued.
Angie nodded in agreement.
“Thank you. I’ll be in touch. Stick around.”
***
DiNolfo stormed through the front door of the Elkhart Police Station with a determined look on her face. She walked fast across the linoleum floor, earning nervous glances from Liam and Officer Rutledge. She quickly ran down the stairs to the file room. The door unlocked loudly and before it could bang shut, Sergeant DiNolfo had re-emerged with Tiffany O�
��Mara’s thick case file. She ran up the steps, two-by-two, and approached Liam’s desk. Without warning, she slammed the case file onto Liam’s desk as he looked at her for further instruction.
“Scour this file. Our answers are inside.”
Chapter 14
June 19, 2000
O’Mara Residence
9:52 PM
Gwen O’Mara sat on the couch surrounded by her daughters with a photo album on her lap. Roger sat adjacent from her with his hands folded across his lap, peering down over his glasses with a serious set of downcast eyes. Angie sat beside her mother, resting her hand on her back as Gwen narrated the story of their lives. Trixie sat at her mother’s feet listening to the stories but not daring to look up in fear that her father would see the tears streaming down her face. Ally sat on the opposite side of Gwen, her fingers clutching on Gwen’s nightgown. Misty-Lee stared darkly out the front window with her son Cory in her clutches. She had taken the news worst of all.
Gwen had stopped her sobbing. She was dealing with the death of Courtney the only way she knew how. She took solace in their time together. With the photo album on her lap, she pointed to each picture that stirred a memory within her.
“Oh, Angie… do you remember this one?” Gwen asked pointing to a photograph of her that was taken in the summer of 1974. A pale green sundress fell over her scraped knees.
Ally laughed at the photograph. “Angie, you look like a perfect lady until you see your knees and your grubby finger nails.”
Roger smiled, “Angela was of the adventurous variety. Always digging in the dirt or climbing a tree. Tiffany was the princess; as girly as they come.”
Gwen smiled at the memory.
“Oh, look,” she continued, “Here is Angela, Tiffany and Misty-Lee together playing jump rope in the garden.” Misty-Lee was weaving her legs through the ropes as Angie and Tiffany taught her how to play Double Dutch.
Gwen’s manicured nails continued turning page after page, telling the younger girls of the memories that surfaced, reminding her elder daughters of the life they used to lead. Angie could feel the mounting pain with each turn of the page. Finally, Gwen turned the page to a photograph that made her hand shake. The photograph showed Angie holding baby Courtney just a few hours after being born. Gwen touched the photograph, tracing the line of Courtney’s white baby blanket as a single tear dropped onto the page. With a heavy gasp, Gwen fell back against the couch cushion as her emotions overwhelmed her.
“Come on, guys… Let’s give Mom some space,” said Angie as she took the book from Gwen’s grasp and returned it to the bookshelf in the corner. Leaving Gwen with Roger, Angie slowly climbed the steps as her own emotions came unhinged. She was able to control her heaving sobs until she was safely behind her bedroom door.
***
A nightmare stirred Angie from a deep sleep. She had cried herself to sleep, the emotions from their trek down memory lane too much for her in the wake of her sister’s death, and now Bernard Kendricks’ face had awoken her. Angie opened her eyes with a deep-seated fear shining out from her irises. Her skin was clammy, her nerves shot and her anxiety had reached an all time high. Sitting up in her bed, she looked at the time. 12:52 A.M. Her hands shook as she walked to the bathroom to splash cool water against her face. Angie couldn’t help but wonder, would she be next?
“I need fresh air,” Angie said as she pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. She knew a killer was on the loose, but she felt as if she were suffocating in the dense fog of the house. Bolting down the front steps, she grabbed the car keys and stepped out into the night.
***
Hunter couldn’t sleep. He was on edge, unsure of who to trust. He wasn’t sure who had been in his trailer earlier that day, but whoever it was, they were clearly trying to set him up. It was shortly after 1:00 in the morning and sleep was evading him. He lay sprawled on his couch as he listened intently, trying to hear if anyone was stalking outside the trailer. The crunch of gravel caused Hunter to sit up. He grabbed his baseball bat that sat next to the sliding glass door and he hid waiting to see who it was. Whoever it was was brave enough to step right up on his porch and knock on the glass window. Knock. Clearly this was no intruder.
“Hunter?!” Angie called from the other side. “Please open up.”
Hunter let out a breath and dropped the bat, hurrying to unlock the door and let her in.
“What the hell are you doing out?! That son of a bitch is still out there!” Hunter said, pulling Angie in quickly.
“I can’t sleep. The air in that house. The grief. I feel like it is swallowing me whole. I needed to see you…”
“Well, come in… I heard what happened.”
“It’s like 1980 all over again.”
Chapter 15
June 19, 2000
Steeplechase Academy
Elkhart, PA
9:30 A.M.
Blake Morrow slumped over his desk in Chemistry 201 as he felt a swift kick to his leg.
“Ow! What was that for?!”
He looked to his left, and caught a nasty glare from his sister, Tristan.
“Pay attention! Finals start tomorrow!” Tristan whispered loudly.
“I got this, Tris. Relax!” assured Blake.
“I got this, too…” said Shane with a sly smile.
“I’ve got my chemistry buddy to rely on,” Shane motioned towards Tristan.
“Oh, no. I’ll sit in the hallway.”
“Then I’ll have to follow you, since Jack said I have to keep an eye on you at all times,” said Cole playfully.
“What are you, his Golden Retriever? Tristan ran off, better bring her back? Someone might steal her? I’m fine!” Tristan insisted.
“He’s just worried. Frankly, I am, too,” Cole mentioned.
Tristan rolled her eyes.
These men worry too stinking much.
“Are you going to follow me to the bathroom, too?” asked Tristan as she tried not to laugh.
Cole’s face turned a vibrant shade of red.
Jack was taking this entirely too far in Tristan’s opinion. She was perfectly capable of getting to work, school and maneuvering through the hallways to her next class without a male chaperone.
“Cheer up… At least he trusts Cole now. He trusts him more than he trusts any of us. He didn’t bother asking any of us to follow you around.”
“That’s because you already follow me everywhere I go.”
Shane shook his head up and down, “That is true.”
“You keep us out of trouble,” quipped Blake.
Tristan rolled her eyes as she thought about it. Jack wasn’t thrilled that Tommy and Tristan were even going to school, but when Tristan reminded him that they needed to pass finals to graduate, Jack relented. He was so worried that whoever had come after Courtney would get Tristan next. Jack had all the kids ride in Cole’s Jeep, and told him that if there was any trouble to call him.
The man is becoming more overbearing with each passing day. Maybe I should’ve selected a west coast school, Tristan thought.
Suddenly, the school bell rang and everyone put their books in their bags. When they got into the hall, Shane complained, “Is it lunch time yet?”
“No. We have that ridiculous assembly now,” explained Tristan.
“Not the ‘Don’t do drugs’ one?!” complained Blake
“Yup.”
Cole groaned in response. No one looked forward to this assembly.
“Apparently there is a guest speaker this year.”
The group approached the auditorium where a poster sized picture of Hunter McCord was displayed on a tri-fold stand. Hunter was smiling broadly with his arms spread wide. Under the picture, the words “Hugs Not Drugs” were written in big bold letters, causing Tommy to grit his teeth. Many of the students at Steeplechase knew that McCord was an active drug dealer and not someone you wanted to mess around with. Somehow, he had fooled the faculty at Steeplechase, though. As part of his community servi
ce requirement, McCord gave inspirational anti-drug speeches to local high schools about the dangers of drug use. Tommy refrained from knocking over the poster as they took their seats in the back of the auditorium.
“I find it really hard to believe that they don’t know that he’s still dealing….” Tommy complained.
Stolen Innocents (The Shadow Series Book 2) Page 15