by Krista Cairn
Dark Places
by
Kri st a C ai rn
Dedicated to my friends and family. ;-)
and
Everyone willing to take a risk on an unfamiliar author. You’re amazing.
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And thank you!
All rights reserved. Except where permitted by law, this book may not be reproduced in any form, in whole or in part, without the express written permission of the author.
© 2017 Krista Cairn
Table of Contents
Chapter 1 // Changes
Chapter 2 // Remember
Chapter 3 // Rough
Chapter 4 // Growl
Chapter 5 // I’m Not
Chapter 6 // Together
Chapter 7 // Clear Day, Cloudy day
Chapter 8 // Because I’m Crazy
Chapter 9 // Time’s Up
Chapter 10 // Love’s Fool
Chapter 11 // Lost
Chapter 12 // Can’t Nobody
Chapter 13 // Someone Like You
Chapter 14 // Good Luck
Chapter 15 // Breathe
Chapter 16 // We Are Bulletproof
Chapter 17 // If It Ain’t Love
Chapter 18 // Love You Again
Chapter 19 // To An Angel
Chapter 20 // A Oh
Chapter 21 // Into You
Chapter 22 // Just Right
Chapter 23 // Okay, Go!
Chapter 24 // Wanna Be
Chapter 25 // Reality
Chapter 26 // Press Your Number
Chapter 27 // Fly
Chapter 28 // Demonstrate
A Note From Krista
Chapter 1 // Changes
Simone slipped around from behind the café. Darkness was her friend and they worked well together. Around, seen but unseen, like smoke in a crowded bar. That was her.
Well, it used to be. With the sun still up over head, there were too few shadows to have fun with. About to walk in, she hesitated. A man sat next to the window, rhythmically tapping the table, fidgeting. Asian, early twenties, dressed-down but wearing an expensive watch.
His mid-length medium-brown hair reminded Simone of urban camouflage, and it didn’t suit him. He looked up, not seeing her. No coffee or plate on his table. He must be waiting for someone, and he looked worried. Someone he valued.
She squinted. Wait … he’s glowing? People don’t glow blue. She rubbed her eyes and dismissed it. Simone shifted demeanour as she passed through the door, using it as a change point. Happy, tired, young. It felt like roleplay, but Carol would worry if she appeared to be anything else.
“Hey, Carol. Am I late?” Simone smiled and walked with a swing in her step. Both Carol and Karen were standing behind the cash counter, looking out at one of the tables.
The Asian man looked over and Carol and Karen both turned to face her instead.
“No, sweetie. You’re early, as usual.” Carol tossed Simone a washcloth.
“Excuse me, but you’re objectifying her. She has a name.” A short, heavy teen in a plaid shirt stood there looking snidely at Carol.
“Your issues are showing, child. You might want to tuck them in.” Carol walked away.
“Be careful judging people.” Simone glared at the girl. “You might find yourself outside, instead of eating a nice lunch.” She pointed to the door, staring until the girl walked away.
“Good. That girl’s been a pain since the day she first walked in,” Karen said, looking across the room instead of at the girl.
Carol watched as well. Shadows behind her eyes hid a story, but she didn’t talk about it. She also didn’t let it impact her attitude. She had secrets. Dark ones. But she stayed positive. That made her Simone’s kind of people.
“Who’s the new guy?”
“What? Who?” Karen dodged the question.
“You know who,” Simone said as she stood next to Karen, looking at her friend, not the man. “Is he glowing or something?” she asked, masking her nervous first impression of him.
“He is gorgeous. I’ll admit that.” Karen sighed, earning her a smack on the shoulder.
“Daydreamer.” This time it bothered Simone. “Maybe you should stop stereotyping and make yourself a few friends.”
“Oh, no. Reality isn’t what I want. Pretending there’s someone out there who lives up to movies or novels, that’s what I want.” She nudged Simone. “Besides, I have friends.”
“Fine. Enjoy your delusions, but remember these words of wisdom: No matter where we’re from, we’re human.” Simone looked over at the new guy as she wrapped the half-apron around her hips. He could probably use a coffee.
The bell over the entrance rang and she turned to serve the new arrival.
“Hi, Rene.” She nodded at him. The tall, older man wore his usual beige trench coat and dark suit. Speaking of stereotyping, she smiled. “How’s the spy biz?” Police detective, retired. Now a private detective.
“And that’s my cue to leave. See you, Simone.” Karen nodded at Rene as she walked past. “Stay cool, Rene,” she said.
He laughed a good-natured laugh. Hearty.
“Life is busy. You know how it goes.” He smiled as he held out a large manila envelope. Taking it, Simone put it with the others of his current collection, under the counter.
“Bagel and coffee?” She retrieved them out of habit.
“Yeah.” He turned to look around. “Carol?”
“She’s in the back.”
“Sleeping again, or…?”
“Uh, she didn’t say.”
“Well, I’m paid to look, so….” He knocked on the counter, hard. “Carol, come on out.”
Simone chuckled.
Carol appeared a moment later, smiling. Blushing, maybe. She must have heard them talking. She did have a thing for Rene. His being oblivious to it made it fun to watch them together.
Simone shrugged as she turned back to the job. She put on a couple pots of coffee, anticipating the café’s busy time, then went around to the tables, making sure they had enough sugar and other additives.
Half an hour later, she checked on the nervous guy. He seemed calmer. Bored, even.
No coffee. No baked goods. Somewhere in the back of her mind Simone made a decision.
She poured a coffee and tucked creamers in the apron pocket, then plated a ham and cheese biscuit. Setting them on the table in front of the new guy, she paused before moving on. She should say ‘Welcome,’ or something, but she couldn’t think of what.
“This is not mine,” he said. His accent was strong but not an impediment.
Simone made the briefest eye contact, smiling lightly, and nodded.
“It is now. Welcome to Hot Crossed Coffee.” When their eyes met, something in her heart pinched. Odd. No wonder Karen had been staring. This guy was … interesting.
She turned and went about her job. Her pulse needed to settle down. The man seemed nervous. The bad kind. She had to shake that impression off. Open mind. Facts. If he bothers you, there’s a reason, but you don’t let it show at work.
“Simone.” Rene waved her over to where he and Carol sat in the opposite corner.
“Bring us something from the back.” Carol had her own personal selection of fine wines and whiskey in a room that she called her ‘quiet room’. Not for sale, and only by invitation.
“You’re a little early today,” Simone observed.
“I have a question for you, but you won’t like it. Later, though. Right now, I need a drink, and I need to talk to Carol.”
That might
be worth actually worrying about, Simone noted.
“This is starting to sound like a favour. Tell me what you need.”
“Well….” He scratched behind one ear, thinking. “It’s just that—”
“Just say it.”
“Fine. I need you working the front desk.”
So he could hide people under assumed names and pay cash without a credit card on file for the room or something, she assumed.
“I’ll work anywhere but the Blue Crest.”
He sighed. “You know that’s the one I need, right?”
“And you know my history there.” She had a gap in her memory, where the hotel was concerned, but, but he’d implied on several occasions that unsavoury things had happened. That made her twice as wary.
“Think it over. Staff changeover can be unpredictable in hotels. And I checked. There might be one or two housekeepers that remember you, but the others are gone. And you’ve changed. They wouldn’t have a clue.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so.”
“It’s just for a few months.”
“You’re setting up a sting, or an extraction?”
“A bit of both. And it takes timing, and time. I only need you there for a few shifts a week.”
An extraction? Well, she did owe him. Ex-cops. She sighed. Do they ever actually leave the job?
“Okay, fine. Is there an interview or something I need to go for?”
“It's arranged. Go meet the manager tomorrow morning. Name’s Sid. He’s expecting you at ten a.m.”
“What about Carol?”
“She’s not expecting you.”
“You know what I mean.”
“She only wants part-timers here. And she’s starting to catch on.”
Simone’s real job was to watch for suspicious people and report them back to Rene.
It just happened in a café.
But still … the Blue Crest. She never wanted to go back there. Simone stood up.
“Give me a good reason. Why the Blue Crest? There are five other hotels here.”
“I want you to be at the front counter during your shift. The smaller places make you fold laundry in the back, or something.”
She sighed. Of course he wouldn’t tell her the truth. “I'd better get over to the cash register. There’s a line starting.”
Thankful for the sudden spurt of busyness, Simone threw herself into the work. She didn't want to think about working at the hotel. She liked the job well enough, but a conglomeration of butterflies and jitters filled her any time she thought about the Blue Crest.
Just the Blue Crest. And Rene wouldn’t give her the history on that.
Rene stopped as he headed out. “Two shifts a week. That’ll be enough, but try to get them spaced out.” He scratched an ear, then walked over to her. “Also, not to worry you, but Neil’s uncle is looking for him.”
“Wait—I thought he was living with him.”
“A guy I know says he was being used as the equivalent of slave labour at a survivalist camp.” Rene nodded. “Last I heard, he stole three grand and hopped a bus. I’m guessing he’ll head this way.”
“He’d better,” Simone muttered. A year and a half with no word. She wanted the chance to at least find out why. Slave labour, though, by an uncle. Harsh. Especially for Neil.
He wasn’t lazy, but he wasn’t made for that kind of life.
“Okay, well, I’m off,” Rene said as he headed for the door.
A moment later Carol walked up to Simone. “You don’t look well. Take a break.”
“You helped him come up with this plan, didn’t you?” Simone narrowed her eyes, knowing the truth.
“He trusts you.” Carol gave a half-shrug. “That’s a good thing.”
Simone glanced around.
“Why me? Surely he has other people that owe him favours.”
“I think you know why.” She tossed her head and walked away. “Oh, right. If someone called Lance Calster comes in asking for me, tell him I left what he’s looking for at the lawyer’s office up the road.”
“Lawyer?”
“Yeah, he bought the building and he’s trying to double my rent.”
“Oh.”
Most of the patrons were gone, except for Nervous Window Guy and a couple talking quietly on the far side. Window Guy still sat, calmer, but waiting. She checked a clock. It was an hour and a half later. Why? She cringed. He was near enough to hear the talk regarding Neil. And the hotel.
She shook her head. He probably had other things on his mind.
“I need to work.” She had asked Rene to check in on Neil, so she knew the what and where of his situation. But she hadn’t expected this. Isolating someone, cutting off their old friends—that was an abuser’s tactic, a cult tactic. She fumed.
When she poured more coffee for Window Guy—she’d call him Guy for now—they made eye contact again. He looked curious but caring. She broke away but glanced back again after she’d put the coffee pot back on the burner. Interesting. He sat in a slightly shaded spot, between lights, but didn’t seem to be any less lit. How could she describe it? It looked as though light was drawn to him. She shuddered.
Oh well, she probably wouldn’t remember him tomorrow. She pulled out her cellphone to leave a short audio note to herself about him, just in case.
Chapter 2 // Remember
Sitting in the well-lit back office of the Blue Crest, Simone tapped the toes of one of her feet lightly. Anywhere else. That’s where she’d rather be. Almost anywhere.
The only reason she still sat there, fidgeting, was that the room smelled of camphor and the minty muscle rubs used by the students at Heather’s taekwondo studio. A good smell, but odd for a hotel office.
“Your work history is … colourful, but you’ve worked here before, so you know our systems. Can you start next week?”
Simone blinked. “You’re offering me the job?”
“I’ve just had two people quit and another is on maternity leave. And you come highly recommended,” he said, matter-of-fact. “I’d start you today if you’d do it.”
Nervous, she laughed. “Okay.” Really, why not. “Is there still a uniform?”
He nodded and got up. “You may have noticed the man at the front desk wearing a blue dress shirt with thin black trim and black slacks. You provide your own black shoes.
You’re a small?” He handed her a couple shirts in a clear wrapper. “Come back at 3 p.m.
and we’ll see how much you remember.”
But wait, she wanted to say. Two people quit while another is temporarily gone?
That’s not normal turnover, is it? She would understand if boredom did people in, but they didn’t leave in groups. Maybe Rene arranged a better opportunity elsewhere for them, to make space for her. Not likely.
So, she stepped out into the sun. Now what? A figure approached along the sidewalk, not looking up as he sped along. It was Guy. He looked worried. Still. He’d lightened his hair?
Why? She backed up, out of his way, as he zipped past, heading downtown. He wore the same clothes, it looked like. She wrinkled her nose. Issues.
Oh crap, she groaned. I remembered him.
As he walked, he opened a sling pack and pulled something out. Before she consciously chose, she started following him. She had a few hours to kill. No other interesting thing vied for her attention. Why not follow? They went a few blocks before he turned in to a coffee shop. He really liked his coffee, didn’t he? Or had he realized she was following him? She strode past, pretending to be in a hurry, then ducked up against the next corner wall facing the coffee shop.
Her cellphone beeped. Three people had this number. None of them were prone to emergencies. She could check it, but her sense of curiosity about Guy lingered, pulling at her. Then again, he wouldn’t be needing real help either. Not her kind of help. She sighed and checked the screen.
Text message: ‘Delivery needed. HiPri/Deadline 2 pm. Station B/Section 13/Key.
Level 1 pa
y.’
Shocked, she dropped the phone. Staring at it, she didn’t know what to think. It had to be a joke. A bad one. She looked around as she picked the phone back up, trying not to be obvious. Calm down, she scolded herself. Or you’ll look like an idiot.
She’d been found. How? How did they get this number? She pushed the phone into a deep pocket, turned, and ran to the nearest shadow. She needed somewhere dark and deep, where she could hide and think.
The early morning sun wasn’t helping. She would have to go indoors. Scanning the shop signs around her, she chose the small Chinese food restaurant. If they had a small bathroom, she could leave the lights out. She just needed to feel a little less solid.
Okay, admit it. You’re panicking.
Simone walked in, trying to look calm. Rushing into the back, she found the little bathroom was windowless. Relief flooded her as she left the light off and locked the door behind her.
She knew she wasn’t normal. Most of her life was defined by light. How much there was, and what part of the spectrum was involved. The fuller the colours, the more solid she became. Others noticed before she knew what was going on. She was a freak.
Neil had laughed and decided she was his best friend. She could go through walls if both rooms were pitch black. But what was the point of that? One flipped light switch mid-wall and she’d be stuck.
People who preferred the shadows, the ones from dark places, treated her like their best friend, sharing secrets even when they didn’t know her. Seriously, they shouldn’t. She didn’t want to know them. Except that she did—she knew them better than they knew themselves. Their motivations, their intent, their goals. And why they were so easy to have arrested when she felt threatened.
That’s why she made a great night courier. She could hide, sure, but even better— she was untouchable.
Maybe that’s why she craved light. No one wants to be a ghost. Not really.
She tapped the phone screen to light it up. A moment in this light would be okay. All she had to do was hit the screen, toggle to blacken the screen, and be safe. The phone number wasn’t one she was familiar with. The message syntax matched Harod’s group, though. They were all named after villains. When she first learned that, if she’d rolled her eyes any harder, they would have fallen out of her head.