Hide and Seek
By Velvet Vaughn
Copyright
Copyright © 2016 VELVET VAUGHN LLC
ISBN: 978-0-9861652-4-5
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Visit Velvet's website at: www.velvetvaughn.com and her Facebook Fanpage HERE.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my sweet niece (and fellow published writer), Lexi.
Acknowledgements
I am so grateful to the inaugural members of the Velvet Vaughn Street Team: Cindi R., Debbie M., Gary A., Karen J. and Lisa B. Thank you all for your support. And as always, I am so blessed and thankful for my mom...I couldn’t do this without her.
Table of Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Epilogue
Notes
About the Author
Prologue
“I just became your worst nightmare.”
Though she maintained eye contact and a smug smile of satisfaction, a chill raced down Assistant State Prosecutor Taylor Hudson's spine. She refused to let Patrick Sweeney see just how much his threat unnerved her.
The judge pounded his gavel, calling for order as the accused—now convicted—murderer struggled against his bonds. Several women screamed when the verdict was read, one fainted, others sobbed openly. Taylor watched with a remote sense of detachment as the guards surrounded Sweeney and prepared to lead him out of the courtroom and to his posh new digs where he would spend the rest of his miserable life: the federal penitentiary.
It was hard to reconcile the man in the orange jumpsuit with the list of crimes he committed. Sweeney looked more like a movie star than a sadistic rapist and cold-blooded killer. He was charismatic, charming and witty. The women in the jury stared at him with interest and he made sure to return their gaze with a dazzling smile and a flirty wink. Taylor shook her head. One juror was old enough to be his grandmother.
Knowing his skill with the ladies, the prosecutors successfully fought to appoint only three to the jury, and though they might’ve been mesmerized by his looks, they were smart enough to see right through the captivating smile to the black heart beating inside his chest. It didn't hurt that Taylor had presented irrefutable evidence and disturbing images of his violent crimes.
This case—the biggest of her short career—had erupted into a massive media circus. Reporters camped on the steps of the courthouse to shout questions and snap photos. She’d held so many impromptu press conferences, she became something of a mini-celebrity. The trial had even been broadcast live by Crime TV until Sweeney’s theatrics angered the judge enough that he banned the cameras.
The warped media portrayed Sweeney as the victim of a rough childhood dominated by an alcoholic father and drug-addicted mother. He'd seemingly overcome his meager beginnings to earn an academic scholarship to an Ivy League school. He modeled on the side for several national and international campaigns, his face appearing on billboards hawking everything from underwear to cologne across the country. He'd guest-starred on several sitcoms and had a bit part in a major motion picture.
Because of his rabid following, Taylor had been portrayed in the media as the wicked young witch of the courtroom, the evil face of anarchism. Her image had been used in satirical cartoons, as the center of dart boards and had even been burned in effigy. Careful to never let her reactions show, the hatred hurt. She was simply doing her job and keeping the public safe, taking a murdering rapist off the streets for good. Instead, she was the villain.
The public was a fickle bunch.
She had to admit he had an aura about him, a charm that could be difficult to resist. He was downright hypnotic in his ability to manipulate people, mostly women, into doing exactly what he wanted. A Svengali. He resembled Brad Pitt, boasted a legion of admirers that would make Elvis proud, was highly intelligent and devastatingly handsome, often quoted his favorite philosopher Nietzsche, and he was completely, utterly dead inside.
It was his intellect that finally engineered his downfall, his warped belief that he was superior, above everyone else, that he was super-human. It was his radical following of Nietzsche that resulted in his capture. Nietzsche argued supermen, or Übermensch as he called them, were above common human morality. He described them as powerful, highly creative, courageous and extremely rare. Sweeney simply didn't think there was a person out there smart enough to stop him.
The judge banged the gavel again, the sharp staccato sound echoing through the courtroom, but the audience wouldn’t quiet. Taylor swung around to watch the authorities attempt to usher the sobbing women out of the courtroom. A low, menacing voice had her spinning back around.
“You won't know when, you won't know where, but I’m coming for you,” Sweeney threatened as the guards drug him by the prosecutors’ table.
“Enjoy prison, Pat.” She smiled cheekily. “At least until that lethal dose of Pentobarbital kicks in. That won’t be so enjoyable.” Her smile froze at his cold stare. She was truly looking into the face of evil.
Chapter One
Six years later - Thursday
A buzzer sounded, startling Taylor Hudson from her writing-induced trance. As usual when she parked herself in front of the computer to put words on paper, time completely got away from her. She was almost finished with her latest novel, Courtroom Casualties. She’d been deep into plotting the pivotal closing argument scene and before she knew it, the afternoon disappeared. It was a good thing she thought to set a timer, otherwise she wouldn’t be ready when her daughter arrived home from school.
She glanced at the time as she silenced the alarm and stood to stretch. The bus would be dropping Grace off soon and since it was Thursday, that meant gymnastics class. She defined days of the week by her daughter’s extracurricular activities.
Taylor backed-up her work and powered down the laptop. She’d started writing as a way to pass time when her daughter was an infant. She’d resigned her position with the district attorney’s office in order to stay home and care for Grace. She didn’t want her daughter raised by nannies and babysitters. Her mother had stayed home with her and her sister and she cherished those memories from her childhood. She wanted the same for her daughter.
As soon as she quit her job, she’d moved back to her hometown to be closer to her parents, but she wasn’t quite sure what she w
ould do for a living. A local law firm offered her a part-time position, but several ideas floated around in her head and when she put them on paper, a story formed. She’d always loved to write and discovered once she started, she couldn’t stop. She drew from past experiences for material. Penning legal thrillers helped her keep up-to-date with her former profession as well. She didn’t want to go back to practicing law day to day, so writing about it was the perfect compromise. It allowed her to put her many years of education to good use.
Grace had been a good baby, very happy and easygoing. Taylor kept her crib in the office as she worked and as she grew, her playpen. Grace was easily entertained, allowing Taylor to write and take care of her daughter at the same time. Her parents were a huge help, especially when she was under deadline or if she needed a night out with the girls.
She jumped head-first into her writing career but she kept her expectations low. Her only hope was that she’d sell enough books to keep a roof over their heads. She’d been shocked when her first novel had been a breakout success. Now six books later, she was a well-known author, writing under the pseudonym T.A. Hudson.
Taylor stuffed tennis shoes into a gym bag, zipped it closed and slung it over her shoulder. She never pushed her daughter, letting Grace decide which activities she wanted to participate in…and she wanted to do everything. Grace was a bundle of energy, burning it off with dancing and soccer and tee-ball. Taylor mentioned the possibility of taking piano lessons, but Grace wasn’t interested. She was rambunctious, athletic. Sitting on a bench memorizing keys wasn’t her idea of fun. She was doing back handsprings on her own when she was five years old.
Grace’s latest obsession was karate. She looked so adorable when she practiced her moves, her face a mask of concentration. She loved to wear her Gi around the house and make chopping moves with her hands. Taylor knew it was Kai Costa’s influence that prompted Grace’s desire to learn martial arts. He was a sweet boy who shoveled their sidewalk in the winter and cleaned their pool in the summer. He was a couple of years older than Grace and her daughter had a major crush on him.
Taylor glanced at the latest school picture on the mantle above the fireplace in her office showing an adorable princess with flowing red curls, so drastically different from her own naturally straight blonde hair. Both of their eyes were blue, but Grace's were a darker color of the night sky, whereas hers were a lighter shade of cornflower.
Tomorrow was the last day of school, Grace’s first-grade year. Her baby was growing up so fast. The teachers were throwing an end-of-the-year party and Taylor planned on staying up all night baking cupcakes. She was an active participant in Grace’s classroom activities and served as a chaperone on their field trip to the Wonderlab Museum of Science, Health and Technology. With her book deadline rapidly approaching, she considered buying the snacks instead, but Grace loved to help her in the kitchen, so they’d be up to their elbows in batter after gymnastics class.
The phone rang, jarring her from her thoughts. She jogged to the receiver and picked up on the second ring. She listened for a minute before collapsing to the sofa. “Excuse me?” she sputtered. “What did you say?”
“I said he escaped. Patrick Sweeney has escaped.”
Chapter Two
Kai Costa rolled his eyes at his bickering friends as they launched into their favorite argument of who deserved the title of best athlete on the planet.
“It's gotta be Shawn White,” Carson argued. “Dude's a freaking magician on a board. Nobody can carve the pipe like he can. He shreds the snow.”
David shoved him, almost dislodging him from his ever-present skateboard. “Dude, it's gotta be LaBron. Nobody can jam the rock in the hole like he can.” David took a running leap, slamming a basketball through an imaginary hoop. “Bam. Count ‘em. Two points.”
Kai personally thought his dad was the greatest athlete in the history of the world. He'd been an All-American basketball player in college before giving up any chance of a pro career to join the Navy and serve his country. He’d become a SEAL and Kai thought that was just about the coolest thing ever. He inherited his dad's athletic ability and he planned to follow in his footsteps and become a SEAL.
Once, when he had voiced his feelings and told his friends that his dad was the greatest, they laughed at him, pointed fingers, called him a “daddy's boy”. He knew it was all in fun ‘cause Carson and David thought his dad was awesome, too. But he decided from then on, he’d just keep his true feelings to himself.
Since this was a common argument, Kai tuned them out. He knew they’d bicker back and forth for the rest of the drive home. It was Carson's mom's turn to pick them up. As they walked by a school bus, something made Kai peer inside at the driver and his steps faltered. An overwhelming sense of unease washed over him. Though he didn't ride the bus, he was nine after all—too hip to ride the loser cruiser, as the bus was known among the coolest of grade school students—he'd seen the drivers around enough to recognize most, even if he didn't know their names. He’d definitely never seen this man before. There was something creepy about him.
“Kai?”
Carson's voice penetrated his thoughts and he shook his head. He hadn't even realized he stopped until he heard them calling his name.
With a huff of annoyance, Carson spun his skateboard around, flipped the edge and caught it in the air. “I asked who you think is the best athlete?”
A small line of elementary school children filtered on the bus. One cute little redhead with wispy bangs waved wildly at him. “Hi Kai,” she said with a huge grin.
He smiled and waved back at Grace. He knew the seven-year-old had a crush on him…she followed him around like a puppy when he cleaned her mom's pool a few weeks ago. She badgered him with questions about karate and then she signed up for lessons. He’d started out cleaning their sidewalks during the winter. When he’d arrived with his shovel, she’d bundled up in a fluffy pink parka, mittens, boots and a hat with a pom-pom on top and tried to help him. She got in the way more than she helped but he let her try.
He'd started helping out around his neighborhood when an elderly couple needed their sidewalk shoveled. He never meant for it to become a money-making venture. He did it for free because they were old and he didn't want them to slip and fall on the ice. They fawned all over him and gave him milk and cookies. Then they told everyone in the neighborhood what he’d done and soon, he had a nifty little business going. He didn't need the money, his dad was super-generous with an allowance, but he felt grown-up pulling in his own cash. His dad allowed him to do the little projects but insisted that he stay in the area right around their house and he had to take his cell phone with him at all times. Sometimes his dad treated him like a baby but he guessed it was okay. It was just the two of them, after all. Him and his dad against the world.
He watched as Grace navigated the big black steps leading into the bus and raced for a window seat so she could wave at him again. Kai's gaze shifted to the driver and the sense of unease he felt earlier rushed back with a vengeance as the man watched Grace intently…too intently.
“Kai?” David demanded.
He glanced at his friends who were gawking at him like he was one fry short of a Happy Meal. Flapping a hand at them, he called out, “You guys go on, I'm gonna hitch a ride today.”
“No way,” Carson burst out, doubling over in laughter.
“Loser, loser,” David chanted, “riding the cruiser.”
“Yeah, yeah, catch you guys later.” Kai leaped on the bottom step before the driver could swing the door closed in his face. He grabbed the hand rail and turned back to his friends. “Peyton Manning,” he yelled and disappeared behind the whoosh of the doors.
His friends nodded sagely in agreement.
#
Grace Hudson's eyes widened when Kai Costa climbed on the bus and breath caught in her lungs. He never, ever rode the bus. He was way too cool. Kai was the cutest boy she’d ever seen, definitely the cutest in school, maybe even th
e entire universe. Grace sighed. She wanted to marry him.
He smiled at her when he passed and her seven-year-old heart fell irrevocably in love. She wanted to push Molly out of the seat so he could sit beside her, but Molly was her bestest friend in the whole wide world and besides, she would just start crying and throw a tantrum. Molly could be such a diva. Her spirits picked up when he slid into the open seat directly behind her. She shot around and plopped on her knees. She had to grab the back of the seat as the bus lurched forward a few times before making a horrible grinding noise and pulling into the street. The new driver was cute, but he was weird. He smiled and called her “sweetheart” when she got on the bus. She just sorta smiled back and kept her hand knotted in Molly's backpack, wanting to get away from him. She wondered what happened to Mr. Stone. He never smiled much, but he didn’t creep her out like this man. She felt better now that Kai was here.
There were very few kids on the bus since it was the next to last day of school, so there were plenty of open seats. She was glad he chose to sit close to her.
“Why are you riding the bus today?” she asked.
Kai briefly took his eyes off the driver—he must have thought the guy was weird, too—and said, “I thought I'd take the scenic route for a change.”
Grace laughed like he had just said the funniest thing ever. She loved him so much!
“What are you doing?” Molly whispered harshly, pulling at Grace's jacket. “He's like, almost a fourth grader.” Grace looked down at her friend but something made her twist and glance at the mirror above the driver. He was staring at her, a funny smile on his face. Grace shivered and turned back to Kai. He was watching the mirror, too.
“Hey, kid,” the driver said to the little boy in the front seat. “I’m new so show me the first stop.” The boy directed him into an apartment complex where most of the kids got off. Her hands flew to the seat in front of her to brace herself when they jerked and lurched forward again. Molly's backpack crashed to the floor. The guy really didn't know how to drive a bus. They came to the road that would take them to their neighborhood and she frowned when he passed by. Instead, he turned the opposite direction.
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