Ghost of a Shadow

by Andrea Engel

  The gang, or the Golden Hounds, as they’d come to call themselves, looked from one to the other, but no one spoke up.

  “Are you all going to sit there looking at each other like a bunch of idiots, or are you going to study the plans and prepare?” Finn crossed his arms, his piercing brown eyes sliding from boy to boy.

  Patrick spoke first. He cleared his throat then leaned over the map. “Yes, of course. Excellent rendering, as usual, sir.”

  “Sure thing,” Carl piped up, nodding slowly.

  “Okay then,” said Finn, “this heist should give us the financial resources we need in full. If we score this house, we’ll have enough to leave Halfway Hullabaloo forever.”

  Carl asked, “Have you had a chance to scope the place out yet, Finn?”

  “What do you think I am, as dumb as you? Of course I’ve been there. Every day this week.”

  Carl returned Finn’s glare for about half a second then slumped down in his chair.

  Finn resisted the urge to smack the spineless lump of Carl onto the floor. “That’s why I’m in charge, and you would do well not to forget that.” They never would be anything more than pathetic followers who required instructions for how to do everything.

  Finn leaned across the table and continued. “Check out at the front desk, same as always. Meet me there at one o’clock this afternoon, and don’t make it obvious. We’ve done this countless times before, so I trust that you all know what you’re doing. Quick in, quick out. The best way to accomplish this is the following: we split up, and that way we’ll have more coverage. Fred, Carl, Ben, and Patrick—you take the four upstairs bedrooms. Alistair, take the office downstairs. Beagle, you’re on watch outside, while I explore the open spaces and the cookie jar. I wrote your assignments on these papers. On the back of page two, pay extra attention to the escape route. Study them.”

  Everyone dispersed quickly after this conversation, but Finn raised a hand and motioned for Beagle to stay.

  “Have I ever told you, dear Beagle, how much I appreciate your loyalty, how you’re always by my side when I need you?”

  “You don’t have to do this, sir. I owe you my life.”

  “Well, I did it. I want you to remember it always, because I might never actually say it again.”

  Finn watched as high color and a smile graced Beagle’s hollow cheeks. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Never mind the thank-yous. There’s work to be done. Go.”

  As Beagle ran off, Finn appreciated the momentary glow his power to give and take away feelings gave him. That was the best he could do with the warm and fuzzies, which usually left a bitter taste in his mouth and an irritating tingle on his skin. But this time it was tolerable…but only because it was Beagle.

  ❄❄❄❄❄❄❄

  Finn checked his watch for the umpteenth time in the past hour. The simple wristwatch read 12:30 p.m. Those morons better not be late.

  He evaluated the key areas of the house from his position across the street, half concealed by a small grove of red oaks. Although several low-hanging branches already had begun to redden, their deep, sunset color didn’t move him in the least. He leaned against the brown bark. All he had to do now was wait.

  Everything was set for the party. He had picked the lock and placed the supplies inside the side door just after noon and left the house unlocked so it would be easy for the crew.

  Sure about this, kiddo? It’s one of those steps you can’t take back, you know.

  Finn pursed his lips and forced a long, slow breath between his teeth before he replied to the Voice. “Of course I know. Are you implying something?”

  The good it’ll do won’t last. I’m telling you, but it’s your decision, obviously.

  “How kind of you to finally acknowledge the truth. I have no further use for you today, so if you don’t mind, skedaddle. I see my boys coming up the road.” Finn shifted his stance then shook his head. “Morons! I told them to come separately.” On any other day, they’d feel my disappointment on their faces, but that’ll have to wait until later.

  For the last time, Finn, I urge you to reconsider. If you choose to go forward, I have no choice but to issue this ultimatum: I will take my leave of you. You will no longer have access to my knowledge, nor will I provide guidance. I will never return.

  Finn shook his head. “I don’t believe you for a second. You’ve always been too preoccupied with everything I do and bossing me around. You need me more than I need you.”

  The Voice did not reply. For a moment a strange pain pierced Finn’s chest, one he’d never felt before. As the feeling dissipated, he shoved what was left of it down then stood up. He brushed off the seat of his corduroys and walked toward the street to meet his “pals.”

  The two-story colonial made for an easy mark. From the fancy semiprecious door knocker to the grand piano, it was a first-class dwelling ripe for dismemberment and sale.

  Upon entry the gang dispersed to their assigned rooms. The boys went right to work. As usual, Finn sent Beagle outside to keep watch.

  “Don’t forget, three loud knocks on the side door if you see anyone. Then run as fast as you can to the rendezvous point. If anything goes wrong, I’ll meet you there.”

  Beagle nodded and scampered toward the door.

  “I mean it, Beagle: knock and run. Don’t come in. Your job is to monitor the outside and the outside only.”

  “Got it,” he replied, then disappeared through the oak-paneled door.

  Finn began his inspection of the crew’s work. Once they were finished, he passed quietly from room to room. He had to admit he’d trained them well and timed this perfectly. It was almost a pity, but all things must come to an end. He checked his watch. It had taken them exactly half an hour to accomplish their final mission.

  He stepped inside the last room at the end of the hall and did a cursory inspection. Nothing of value was left to take, and no evidence of him or any of his crew had been left behind. After closing the door, he checked his watch again then cast a glance over the open stairway to the side door. Several small canvas bags waited for him there, each filled with easily transportable treasures. Everything from jewelry to rare coins and other small items that would be easy to pawn.

  The street was always quiet in the early afternoon, as he’d seen from a week of observation. Today was no different.

  When he was halfway down the grand staircase, the side door opened. “Sir? What’s happening?”

  “Beagle! I told you to stay outside!”

  “I know, but then it got so very quiet. The crew hasn’t come out yet, and we’re ten minutes overdue for departure. I had a bad feeling. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  Finn watched Beagle’s pale-green eyes pan across the foyer to the formal dining room. The long mahogany table was now attended by the rest of the Hounds, each of them duct-taped to one of the high-back chairs. Their mouths were also covered, their eyes wide with fear. Well, all except for Carl’s, whose throat was slit and bleeding profusely. His head lolled back. Blood spatter adorned his neighbors’ faces with red flecks, and the odor of iron traveled through the air to where Finn and Beagle stood.

  Finn sighed and shook his head as he slowed his pace, lingering on each step he took until he stood in front of Beagle. He heard the other members of the pack squirming, smelled their terror as they stared at the empty cans of gasoline scattered about the room and on the highly polished dining-room table.

  Beagle pulled on Finn’s jacket, something he never would have done before. “Sir, please. You can’t do this!”

  Finn shrugged. “That’s the thing, Beagle. I can do whatever I want. Haven’t you learned that by now?”

  Finn stepped forward and placed his hands on Beagle’s shoulders. He looked at his attaché’s pleading eyes for a long moment. “My Beagle…I told you to stay outside. I warned you not to come in. If only you’d listened to me. You know disobedience cannot be forgiven.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I m
eant well. I was worried. I’ll never do it again!”

  Heartbroken, Finn gently held Beagle’s cheeks in his palms “If only you could take it back…but you can’t.”

  Beagle gave a look of panic. “Sir? I can. I promise.”

  “Oh, Beagle…I’m so sorry about this. Once again you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  Finn turned his head to the side so as not to watch his own actions. With one swift movement of his hands, he broke Beagle’s neck as if it were nothing more than a twig. The small blond body crumpled to the floor.

  The pain in Finn’s chest returned and intensified. Then he felt it hit him. Everything Beagle—all his memories and emotions, the way he saw Finn and looked up to him—it all entered through his mouth. He tasted peaches and smelled fresh-cut hay. It came to him as a trail of smoky visible energy. He swallowed. Pain struck first and then a kind of euphoria and strength.

  He couldn’t dwell on the motionless form that once had been his loyal brother-in-arms. There was no time. He turned his attention to the remaining four boys at the table, who were now even more active in their restraints.

  “What were we talking about before we were so rudely interrupted? Any volunteers can raise their hands. Oh, wait. You can’t. That’s okay. I remember anyway—something about going your separate ways? Breaking up the band? Well, good news! I agree!”

  Finn took an antique Zippo lighter from his pocket. He’d taken it as a souvenir from their very first job together. Caressing it—and the memories it produced—he dramatically shook his head. “Nothing too good for my boys!” Finn laughed irreverently, and then his smile turned icy. “I don’t think so. Not for traitors!” After placing the lighter back in his pocket, he grabbed a pack of matches.

  Finn lit a match and dropped it at the head of the gasoline stream. It bloomed at once into angry flames that chased the shiny liquid across the floor and up over the mahogany table. The room grew hotter by the moment, which was Finn’s cue to exit. As he heaved the five bags of loot over his shoulder, he heard the boys’ muffled screams, barely contained by the duct tape, rise in a ghastly crescendo. He glanced down at his Beagle one last time. Before heading out the side door, he felt the essence of each member of his one-time gang enter him, elbowing one another to find a new home inside.

  The moment he was back in the safety of the trees, he dropped the canvas bags and took a slip of paper and a pen from his pocket. With the kind of satisfaction that comes from the mostly successful execution of a well-thought-out plan, he crossed another line off his list. Only one thing left to do before he could mark through the final goal. It was written in big, bold letters and circled.

  “See, Mr. Helpful? You didn’t think I could do it, but I did. It wasn’t that hard, now was it?”

  There was no response, not even a breeze.

  “I know you’re not going to be able to stay away, so you might as well cut this act out right now!”

  Nothing stirred.

  “Mr. Helpful?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Love at First Like

  I know you can’t hear me this far away, Banyan, but I’m so glad to know you. Sadie felt like a part of something now that she had Banyan, Barnaby, and her own private oasis. It has to work out. If it weren’t for that rude Mr. Felix, I’d still have you all to myself. Who knows how often Thursday comes around in his head? We have to work this out because being with you is the only way I can feel happy. How can Mr. Felix be your friend? He doesn’t even make sense.

  Still steaming from the distinct displeasure of meeting that awful Mr. Felix, Sadie grabbed her ten-speed from the garage without stopping in the house to say hello. Her only other thought was to be off the street before Jennifer showed up.

  She rode over to the bike path beyond the creek. She passed close by the field where she and Christopher used to meet. Will I ever get over you, Christopher? she wondered. It would be nice if today was the day.

  No sooner had the thought faded when Sadie noticed a moving truck up the street. I wonder who’s coming to the neighborhood this time. I’ll be more careful about who I become friends with next. I don’t need any more drama in my life.

  As she rode, the moving truck grew larger. I’ll take a quick peek and be on my way. She dismounted and stood next to her bike. When she looked over, in her line of sight stood the most handsome boy Sadie had ever seen. His olive skin complemented his wiry but muscular body, which she could see because of his shorts and sleeveless basketball tank.

  Wow, I can’t look away. Good thing he isn’t paying attention to me, and then he saw her. Embarrassed, Sadie managed to avert her eyes.

  “Hey…hey you.” He started to walk over.

  Oh, no. Sadie didn’t know whether to take off or not. Her body wouldn’t let her escape, so she took a deep breath, smiled a bit, and waved. She was sure she must have turned firehouse red.

  Feeling wobbly kneed, she walked over, using her bike for stability, and met him halfway. She could see his eyes now. They were the deepest shade of brown she’d ever seen and matched the color of his wavy hair, which hung just below his neck. He must be six inches taller than me, at least. Feeling weaker still, she gripped her bike tighter.

  “Hi. My name’s Sam Perez.” His smile shone wide and bright. “What’s yours?”

  “Umm, Sss…” She thought quickly. “Annie. I’m Annie Cooper.” She used her middle name and Gramma’s last. Her gut told her to do it.

  “Nice to meet you, Sss…Annie.” He laughed a bit.

  Sadie blushed again. “Yeah, sorry about that. I was thinking of something else, and it sort of came out weird.”

  “That’s okay. I do it all the time.”

  She doubted that; she knew he must have told her that to make her feel better. Careful, Sadie. I mean, Annie! Take it easy. Don’t overdo it. Is there such thing as love at first sight? She’d heard of it, but even with Christopher it hadn’t been immediate like this. Christopher. A tinge of guilt struck her. But I wasn’t the one who stopped writing.

  “It’s a little cooler out today, isn’t it?” Sam noted.

  “Sure is.” Who am I kidding? I’m sweating like an animal. Can someone find me an air conditioner?

  “So, Annie, do you live around here?” Welcome and warmth reflected in Sam’s eyes as he waited for her answer.

  “Umm, I live across town a ways.”

  “Oh, secretive, huh? Okay, I’ll let you get away with that for now.” Sam laughed as he teased her. “Where do you go to school?”

  “Just over at the high school. Are you going there too?”

  “Nah, my parents are making me go to the prep school the next town over. It’s on the other side of Oak Street. Do you know which one I mean?”

  “I think so. Is it St. Vincent’s?” Sadie was relieved he didn’t go to her school. I’m so glad I gave him my middle name.

  “Yeah, that’s the one. They think I’m going to be some famous doctor or something. Maybe I’ll be the next Doctor Dolittle. Do you have any animals you’d like me to talk to for you?”

  “I wish, but sadly no.” Sadie turned away for a moment.

  “Yeah, me neither.”

  “Do you really want to be a veterinarian, Sam?”

  “I’m thinking about it, but it’s hard to know for sure. I do love animals, but I don’t know if I could stand to see them in pain.”

  “I can understand that,” Sadie agreed.

  “How about you, Annie? What would you like to do?”

  “I’ve always wanted to be a diplomat like my grandparents. Growing up, I heard stories about their time overseas and the differences they made. I’d give anything to do that.”

  “Wow, that’s deep.”

  Sadie blushed. “I know. It sounds silly.”

  “No, it sounds perfect.” Sam smiled with sincerity.

  “Thank you, Sam. That’s nice of you to say. So where did you guys move from?” Sadie asked, changing the subject.

  “We cam
e down from New Jersey.”

  “New Jersey? I heard it’s nothing but highways and pollution.”

  Sam shook his head. “Oh, then you heard wrong, dear Annie. Jersey is a verdant state from the top to the bottom. Sure, there are a few not-so-nice spots, but doesn’t every state have those? We lived in horse country. Not much left of it anymore, but we were lucky enough to be there for a while. My dad decided it was time for a change of scenery, so here we are in the Sunshine State.”

  Well, thank you, Daddy. Sadie blushed and hoped he didn’t notice. “Nice. Welcome to the neighborhood.” Sadie didn’t want to push. “I’d better head back now.”

  “It was nice meeting you, mysterious Annie. Don’t be a stranger.”

  Oh, don’t you worry. I won’t. Where’s this coming from? Good thing he can’t read my mind.

  “Nice meeting you too, Sam. See you on my next ride.” Like tomorrow.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  The Bogeyman

  The little bell over the door of E-Z Pawn tinkled its welcome tune. A paunchy man in an undershirt looked up at the sound.

  “Hey, slim. What do you have for me today?”

  Finn lifted his duffel. “Packed to the hilt with the good stuff.”

  “Better come around the back then, my man.” Bogey flipped the OPEN sign to CLOSED and locked up the store for “lunch.”

  Finn walked around to the alley and met his partner in slime. “One hand washes the other, right, Bogey?”

  “You know it. Come on in so we can see the goods.”

  Finn followed the obese man who always smelled of sausage and onions, his shirt sporting the grease stains to match. “Let’s go downstairs, shall we? And there we can lay it all out. I tell you, slim, I can almost stay in business just by what you bring in alone.”

  The narrow wooden stairs from the outside were rickety and led to an unfinished basement that smelled of mildew and garlic. A single light bulb in the middle of the room cast the shadows of Finn and Bogey on the corner safe.