“Oh, Danny, Danny, Danny. We could have done such wonderful things together, could have achieved such greatness.” Slowly, she replaced the handset onto the phone.
“But the next time we meet, Daniel Bickel, you will help me capture Gemma Keyes—even if I have to kill you in the process.”
***
Genie Keyes finished clearing the bottom half of her closet, adding the last of her hanging clothes to a wardrobe moving box. That left the shelves above her closet rod to pack. She stood back and gazed with fondness at the stacks of boxes on the shelves.
She took special care of her shoes. Each designer shoe had its own shoe “puff” or tree to hold the shoe’s shape, and each pair of shoes had its own airtight, custom shoebox sporting a laminated color photo of the box’s contents on its end.
She glanced from her meticulous organization to the corrugated moving crates.
No sense putting it off.
She steeled herself and began to transfer her precious shoeboxes from shelf to crate, stacking them with care, padding the space between boxes with crumpled paper. But she couldn’t keep her mind on her task; the events of the past week were too fresh and burned with too much heat. The humiliating scene made a grab for her again.
“We received a call from General Cushing, Genie,” the partner had said. His anger was tamped down only because of the other two partners in the room. “She said, and I quote, ‘Not only was Miss Keyes of no substantive help, her attitude was a deplorable impediment. I am disappointed with your firm and shall make recommendations to that end to my contacts in government procurement.’ end quote.”
Cushing.
Genie hurled a box containing suede Alberto Fermani ankle-tie sandals across the room. The plastic box shattered against the wall and sent the sandals flying.
“We are rescinding our partnership offer and terminating your employment as of today. Don’t bother looking for work on the east coast, Genie. Don’t even try clerking. In fact, the only place we won’t warn off potential employers is your home state of New Mexico.”
The senior partner had sniffed his derision. “Seems apropos. Go back to the sticks from whence you came.”
Genie picked up the remains of the box and dumped the shards into the trash. She’d gotten out of the last eight months of her two-year lease only because local rents had skyrocketed and her landlord could rent out Genie’s apartment—had rented out Genie’s apartment (at a significant increase in the rent)—in a heartbeat.
She had three days remaining to get out—and nowhere to go when she left. Well, she had to go back to New Mexico, didn’t she?
She snarled to herself. If I want to work in law, I do. And I must go back to New Mexico if I want to pay Cushing back—and, oh! Oh, how I do.
Genie had made a few calls and, after dropping a few powerful D.C. names, received tentative overtures from two Albuquerque firms. She’d have to convert one of those overtures into an offer, and quickly. She had not envisioned or prepared for a sudden change of circumstances and had little in the way of cash reserves to make the move and get her foot in the door of a new apartment.
Looking around her bedroom, she took a deep breath and plucked another box from the closet shelf.
***
Emilio and Sean got off the bus together. Sean put his hand in Emilio’s as the two boys headed down the walk to their foster home. Emilio didn’t mind Sean hanging on him—well, not too much. The five-year-old kid was okay, even if he was a pest sometimes. And Emilio had taken care of a few problems on the playground—bigger kids who had mistaken Sean for an easy target. They’d found out otherwise when Emilio stepped in.
Emilio shrugged his backpack higher on his shoulder. He would miss Sean—just a little, of course—when Abe came to get him next Friday after school.
He grinned when he thought about the visit he’d had with the old man yesterday. Wow—he sure had him a mean gash on his head! The doctors had shaved Abe’s grizzled hair around the wound and stitched it up. The stitches were out now, but the gash was still plenty gory-looking.
Cool.
Abe had said he was as excited for Emilio to “come home” as Emilio was to get there. He promised to make spaghetti to celebrate the event. They didn’t need to worry about Mateo either. He wouldn’t be bothering them anymore. That’s what Abe had said, anyway.
Emilio’s mouth tightened. Said he’d tell me why later.
A car going the wrong way drew alongside the curb. The backseat window rolled down.
“Hey, pardon me, but have you seen my puppy?” A guy wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap held up a phone with an image on its screen. “He’s lost. Can you help me find him? He’s just a baby, and I’m worried about him.”
Of course, Sean let go of Emilio’s hand and scampered straight over to the car. The man opened the door and let Sean hold the phone.
Emilio scowled. That kid hadn’t a lick of street sense.
“Sean! Git over here, man. You don’ talk to strangers. Don’ you know nothing?”
Sean looked back at him. “But he lost his puppy, Emilio! Don’t we want to help? He’s awful cute.”
“No, your brother is right. You shouldn’t talk to strangers.” The man’s right hand was bound in a thick bandage. He cocked his head. “Say, is your name Emilio?”
Emilio looked closer at the guy. He seemed familiar.
“Yeah. What of it?”
Emilio watched as the man reached out with his uninjured hand, all casual like, and took hold of Sean’s collar.
“You like Sean, don’t you, Emilio?”
It was the way he said it. Emilio’s blood turned cold, ran down his back, and puddled in his shoes.
“You come over here to me, and I’ll let Sean go on home. I just want a word with you. Just a moment of your time. I have a message for you . . . from your neighbor. You know, the invisible lady?”
That’s when Emilio knew. Arnaldo Soto. Dead Eyes. That’s what Gemma had called him. He swallowed. “Hey, Sean? Git over here. Now.”
But Soto’s grip tightened on Sean’s collar. Sean’s eyes went wide.
“Emilio. Come talk to me, and Sean goes home. Or . . .” He let the threat dangle.
The driver got out and stood on the sidewalk. He waited, but Emilio knew what was happening.
Soto gripped Sean’s collar until it choked the little boy and he whimpered.
Emilio couldn’t stand it. “Okay, ’mano. Okay.”
He dropped his backpack and went up to the car. The big man from the front seat took him by the arm, and Sean scampered to safety.
“Run on home, Sean,” Soto said and nodded to the other man.
The man dragged Emilio over and shoved him into the back seat. Then he slammed the door.
As soon as the driver went to get into the front seat, Emilio lunged for the door, but it wouldn’t open. The car pulled away from the curb, and the boy struggled in Soto’s grasp. Soto had ahold of the back of the kid’s shirt, but the boy was almost as skinny as the beggars from the slums of Culiacán who swarmed his car every chance they got.
“Where you taking me?”
“Shut up!” Soto snarled. He couldn’t grasp and yank the kid’s hair the way he wanted, because the boy’s head was shaved close. Instead, Soto grabbed more shirt, jerked the kid, smashed his face into the door’s window.
Emilio cried out, but twisted within the shirt until his teeth found Soto’s hand. He bit as hard as he could.
He was rewarded with a roar of pain—and the hard back of Soto’s hand. Emilio slumped over in the leather seat, stunned.
“Don’t you get blood on my upholstery, brat!” Soto snarled.
Emilio blinked back the pain. “What you want with me?” He already knew, though. Soto had mentioned her: the invisible lady.
Soto laughed—and Emilio’s skin crawled.
“I know who you are. Dead Eyes. That’s what she calls you.”
“Dead Eyes, eh? So, she has a healthy respect for me
. She should. Too bad she has such an obvious weakness—but that’s where you come in. When I dangle you in front of her, she will try to save you—and I will be ready. She will pay for the harm she has done me.”
Emilio wiped his face and whispered into the seat’s leather, “Yeah, she gonna come get me, all right, but you better watch your back.”
He sniffed again. “’Cause you ain’t gonna see her when she does.”
The End
Stealth Retribution
The final installment of the Nanostealth series will blow your mind.
Other Books by Vikki Kestell
A Prairie Heritage
One family . . . steeped in the love and grace of God, indomitable in their faith, tried and tested in the fires of life, passing forward a legacy to change their world. The compelling saga of family, faith, and great courage.
Book 1: A Rose Blooms Twice
(A free eBook available from most online book retailers.)
Book 2: Wild Heart on the Prairie
Book 3: Joy on This Mountain
Book 4: The Captive Within
Book 5: Stolen
Book 6: Lost Are Found
Book 7: All God’s Promises
Book 8: The Heart of Joy—A Short Story (eBook only)
Also, A Prairie Heritage: The Early Years: Immerse yourself in the world of the American prairie of the 1800s and witness this family as they demonstrate the courage and overcoming spirit born of faith in God. This collection contains Books 1-3, A Rose Blooms Twice, Wild Heart on the Prairie, and Joy on This Mountain.
A Prairie Heritage: The Early Years is a lovely gift, the perfect way to introduce your friends to this series!
Girls from the Mountain
Tabitha, Book 1
If you loved my series, A Prairie Heritage, then you will love the full stories of a select group of women whom you met first at the lodge in the little mountain village of Corinth (hence the series title, “Girls from the Mountain”) and later at Palmer House in Denver.
Tabitha is one such story—the testimony of a fallen woman redeemed by God’s amazing grace, led out of darkness herself to become a light on the battlefields of The Great War.
~~Vikki Kestell, Author of Faith-Filled Fiction™
From the author of the groundbreaking series, A Prairie Heritage, comes the compelling story of fiery-haired, fiery-tempered Tabitha Hale. Rescued from a life of depravity, Tabitha gives her heart to God and her life to nursing.
As this tenacious, redeemed woman perseveres toward her vocation, her temper and stubborn independence threaten to derail her aspirations. Will Tabitha pass the trial by fire that is necessary for God to truly use her?
And what is Tabitha to do with her feelings for Mason Carpenter, the man who simply refuses to give up on her? Is it even possible for God to ordain a shared future for two such different people, both with fervent callings upon their hearts?
When the Great War erupts in Europe, Carpenter leaves for England to train British pilots to fly reconnaissance missions over Belgium and France. Soon after, Tabitha hears God asking her to nurse the war wounded. However, because America has not joined in the fight, Tabitha has few options. Will the elite British Nursing Service make a place for her? Will they accept the services of an American volunteer?
And will Tabitha and Mason overcome the differences that stand between them?
Revisit Palmer House—a most extraordinary refuge for young women rescued from prostitution. Renew your acquaintance with Rose Thoresen, Joy Michaels, and the others who live at Palmer House. Glimpse the years between Stolen and Lost Are Found.
Girls from the Mountain
Book 1: Tabitha
Book 2: Tory, November 2017
About the Author
Vikki Kestell’s passion for people and their stories is evident in her readers’ affection for her characters and unusual plotlines. Two often-repeated sentiments are, “I feel like I know these people,” and “I am right there, in the book, experiencing what her characters experience.”
Vikki holds a Ph.D. in Organizational Learning and Instructional Technologies. She left a career of twenty-plus years in government, academia, and corporate life to pursue writing full time. “Writing is the best job ever,” she admits, “and the most demanding.”
Also an accomplished speaker and teacher, Vikki and her husband Conrad Smith make their home in Albuquerque, New Mexico.
To keep abreast of new book releases, sign up for Vikki’s newsletter on her website or connect with her on Facebook.
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