Her Winter of Darkness

by Melinda Woodhall

  “And what’s that?” Diablo sounded suspicious.

  “Revenge on those that have wronged us,” the Professor replied.

  Diablo started to speak, but the Professor held up his hand to silence him, realizing only then that he’d forgotten to put his glove back on. He wrapped his hand around the steering wheel, hoping Diablo hadn’t noticed his two missing fingers.

  “We don’t have time to waste,” he said, irritation over his error hardening his words. “If we come to an agreement tonight, I’ll send you all the details on the message board. It’ll be enough to blow the lid off this little town.”

  The Professor raised his other hand and smirked when he saw Diablo flinch, as if he’d expected to see a gun. Diablo’s shoulders relaxed when he saw that the Professor held another piece of paper.

  He dropped a printout on the console between them and tapped a finger on the older woman in the image.

  “I want her dead. I want you to kill her.”

  He didn’t wait for Diablo’s reaction before tapping the same finger on the younger woman in the picture.

  “This one bring to me alive. Make sure she’s not harmed.”

  Pushing the paper in Diablo’s direction, the Professor placed both hands on the steering wheel and looked through the windshield at the dark parking lot. A man carrying a cup of steaming coffee hurried past, his breath visible in the cold night air.

  “Why don’t you just take care of these two yourself?” Diablo muttered, gripping the paper in his fist. “You’re the badass, right?”

  Gritting his teeth, the Professor tried to keep his tone calm.

  “Let’s just say they may be expecting me. And as an outsider I’d attract attention hanging around waiting for an opportunity. While you…well, you know the town. You can do what's necessary.”

  Diablo stared down at the image, then shook his head.

  “How do you know I’d be interested?”

  The professor produced a nasty smile.

  “I know everything I need to know about you. Which is why you’re sitting here. You have as much to gain, and as much to lose, as I do.”

  When Diablo didn’t react, the Professor tried again.

  “I don’t trust anyone to do anything unless it’s in their own self-interest. Which is why I’m willing to trust you’ll find this little arrangement to your liking.”

  Drumming his fingers on the dashboard, Diablo looked over at the Professor, then out at the rain, which was starting to slow.

  “If I do you this favor…what happens next?”

  "Kill the mother and bring the daughter to me unharmed,” the professor said, his voice cold. “After that you'll never hear from her, or me, again.”

  Diablo held up a hand in protest.

  “Wait just a minute, Professor.”

  Removing his dark glasses, Diablo turned to stare into the Professor’s cold green eyes.

  “You know the state of Florida still has the death penalty, right? So, I’d be risking my life to take out this woman, and for what?”

  His words didn’t worry the Professor. They just signaled that negotiations had begun. He was suddenly curious as to what Diablo would want from him.

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying this seems like a lopsided deal.”

  The Professor scratched at the rough skin on his chin, waiting for Diablo to make an offer, wondering what he was willing to do to get his ex-wife taken care of once and for all.

  Maybe the question should be what won’t I do?

  Sitting back in his seat, Diablo reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. He scrolled through his photos and stopped on a picture, then held the display up to the Professor.

  "If I fix your problem, it’s only fair you fix mine.”

  Staring at the lovely woman in the picture, the Professor hesitated, surprised by the request. He’d expected the man to ask for money, or maybe drugs. Then again, who was he to judge? He looked at the woman on Diablo’s display again and smiled.

  This little favor might be just what I need to get back on track.

  The Professor glanced up at Diablo and nodded his agreement, trying to hide his satisfaction with the arrangement. He was looking forward to getting hold of the woman. Although she was older than most of the women he dealt with, she was undeniably gorgeous. The right buyer would pay a pretty penny for her.

  Thinking of the buyer who was waiting for Astrid, the Professor realized his problem might be solved. The man was getting impatient, and he was expecting to get his money's worth. Money that the Professor did not want to return.

  A small smile lifted the corner of his mouth as they worked out the arrangement. The lovely replacement for Astrid Peterson would be an unexpected bonus, and his main objective was now in sight. Soon his ex-wife would be dead, and his daughter would be back where she belonged.

  Chapter Twenty

  Veronica woke on Saturday morning to a persistent pounding on the front door. Sitting up in bed with a start, she saw that Winston had still been asleep, too, and that the big tabby cat now looked as tired and grumpy as she felt.

  Pulling on her robe and stepping into her slippers, Veronica padded down the stairs and peered through the front window. Hunter Hadley stood on the front step. He lifted his fist again to pound on the door as Gracie sat calmly beside him on the welcome mat.

  Fear mingled with irritation as she pulled back the deadbolt and opened the door, taking in his worried frown and the copy of the Willow Bay Gazette he held under his arm.

  Hunter stepped past her into the hall before she could ask what had happened. She waited until Gracie had also trotted inside, shivering against the cool air that had slipped in along with the white Lab, then closed the door

  “I tried to call, but you didn’t answer your phone.”

  Holding the paper toward her, Hunter’s expression was grim.

  “You need to see this.”

  Staring down at the paper, Veronica saw that Hunter was holding the front page of the Local News section, and she was suddenly very sure that she didn’t want to see whatever story or news article was in that paper.

  “I’m sorry for doing this,” Hunter said, stepping closer. “But I didn’t want you to hear this from anyone else.”

  Drawing in a deep breath, she took the paper from his hand, her eyes widening when she saw the headline, and her chest tightening as she read the story.

  Exclusive: Mayoral Candidate Ling Lee’s Secret Identity Exposed

  By Mackenzie Jensen

  Willow Bay, Florida - As the mayoral election draws near, voters in Willow Bay will be startled to learn that the current principal of Willow Bay High School, and the city’s first female candidate for mayor, has been living under an assumed identity for over two decades. Documents obtained exclusively by the Willow Bay Gazette show candidate Ling Lee was originally born as Lisa Li, a California resident who attended the University of California, and who was reported to have died in a car crash in San Francisco twenty-eight years ago.

  Questions remain as to why Lisa Li changed her name to Ling Lee and moved to Willow Bay under an assumed identity. Calls to Ling Lee for comment on this story were not returned, but we assume Ms. Lee will have to answer the questions that will be in voters’ minds about her true identity prior to the election, which is only two weeks away.

  Veronica’s gaze moved to the black and white photo next to the article. She walked to the living room and sank onto the sofa, her eyes still fixed on the image.

  Her mother looked out of the photo from across the years. She’d been young and beautiful, and according to the name scrawled across the old photo, back then she’d been Lisa Li.

  “Ronnie, what’s going on? Is someone here?”

  Her mother’s voice sounded from the top of the stairs.

  Veronica glanced up at Hunter, panic on her face.

  “It’s just me and Gracie,” he called out. “I brought Veronica the Gazette. There’s so
mething in it that you both need to see.”

  “Is it another attack piece by that Mackenzie Jensen?” Ling asked, starting down the stairs. “I’m not sure why she’s so against me.”

  Veronica pushed herself off the sofa as her mother stepped into the room. Unable to meet Ling’s questioning gaze, Veronica handed her the newspaper and waited.

  Wincing at the first soft gasp from her mother, Veronica moved closer and put her arm around Ling’s narrow shoulders.

  “This can’t be…how did she…oh my goodness…”

  Ling’s voice faded as she struggled to find the words. Finally, she turned stunned eyes to Veronica.

  “After all these years, it’s finally happened.”

  Veronica had to strain to hear the shocked whisper.

  “I thought it had been too long. I thought it was all over.”

  “Is this true then, Ma?” Veronica asked, gesturing to the paper. “Did you really change your name? Are you Lisa Li?”

  Tears welled in her mother’s eyes as she nodded.

  “It seems it’s pointless to deny it, now that this is in the paper.”

  Throwing the newspaper to the ground, Ling ran a small hand through her unbrushed hair and sighed. She turned to Veronica and put a trembling hand to her daughter’s face, gently pushing back a lock of dark hair.

  “The worst part is having you find out like this,” she murmured, then turned to the sofa. “Let’s sit down, so I can explain.”

  Hunter cleared his throat and motioned to the door.

  “I can leave if-”

  “No.” Ling’s tone was adamant. “Veronica is going to need you.”

  Her hand was ice cold as she led Veronica to the sofa and sat down next to her.

  “You’ve always wanted to know about your father, but I was never able to tell you the whole truth. Now, I find I must tell you.”

  Dread settled in Veronica’s chest at her mother’s words.

  She had all but given up on finding out the truth about her father. Although Ling had explained he’d been a bad man, and that he’d done terrible things, Veronica had decided she would leave him, along with the pain he’d caused her mother, in the past.

  I guess the past didn’t want him either.

  Blinking back tears, Ling spoke in a voice trembling with emotion.

  “My name was Lisa Li. I had to change my name when I went into the witness protection program, back when you were just a baby.”

  Veronica squeezed her mother’s hand, holding back her own tears at the thought of Ling as a young mother giving up her name and her identity in order to save herself and her child.

  “I met your father at the University of California, San Francisco,” Ling continued. “I was very naïve, but I thought I knew everything.”

  Smiling sadly, Ling shook her head.

  “He said he was a new professor in the Fine Arts department, and I believed him. In fact, I believed everything he told me without question, and we were married within a few months.”

  She gave Veronica’s hand a tight squeeze.

  “And you came along soon after. But by then I’d realized something was wrong. I’d caught my new husband in more than one lie, and he had become secretive and even violent.”

  Her face hardened at the memory.

  “When you were still a newborn, I started thinking of leaving him. I could finally see him for what he really was, and it scared me. I overheard him talking to people about drugs, and about girls. I decided to follow him and find out what he was really doing.”

  Closing her eyes, Ling drew in a deep breath.

  “What I found…what I saw…it was horrifying.”

  She swallowed hard and shook her head.

  “I couldn’t stay after that, but I couldn’t leave knowing what he was doing to those women. I couldn’t leave knowing what he would do to me if he ever found me.”

  “So, what did you do?” Veronica asked, holding her breath.

  Ling squared her small shoulders as she met Veronica’s gaze.

  “I went to the police. I told them everything I’d seen, and I agreed to help them find out more. Eventually, I agreed to testify against him and his accomplices.”

  “And that’s why you had to go into witness protection?”

  Shaking her head, Ling grimaced at the memory.

  “My testimony helped to convict him, but he’d been wounded in the take down and lost two fingers on his right hand. When he was in the hospital, he managed to escape police custody. After that he went on the run, and I knew he would come for me. I knew he’d try to kill me and take you away.”

  Ling got to her feet and walked to the window, staring out toward the street with haunted eyes.

  “So, I agreed to go into the witness protection program. The team assigned to me believed me when I told them he would never stop looking for us. They made it look like you and I had been killed in a car crash, and they gave me a new identity.”

  “Why Ling Lee?” Veronica asked. “Why that name?”

  Shrugging at the question, Ling turned back to her daughter.

  “They suggested I use the same initials, just to make it easier to remember. Your initials were kept the same as well.”

  The words sent a jolt of shock through Veronica. Up until then she’d only been thinking how her mother had been affected. Now she realized that her life, and her name, had been forever changed as well.

  “What was my name?” she whispered. “Before…”

  “I named you Vivian,” Ling said wistfully. “I always thought the name was so glamorous.”

  Veronica looked to Hunter, who’d been standing quietly by the door, and managed a pained smile.

  “I guess it’s not too hard to imagine. Lisa Li becomes Ling Lee, and Vivian Li becomes Veronica Lee.”

  Ling shook her head and sighed.

  “No, your name was not Vivian Li,” she said, biting her lip. “You had been given your father’s last name.”

  Rising from the sofa, Veronica went to stand beside her mother.

  “What was my name, Ma?”

  Her voice cracked on the words.

  “Locke,” Ling said gently. “Your given name was Vivian Locke.”

  “And my father’s name?”

  The expression on Ling’s face hardened.

  “His name is Donovan Locke. He used to call himself Professor Locke, but he never was a real professor. I think it was a title he used to impress and trick young women.”

  She looked into Veronica’s eyes and sighed.

  “This news in the paper, it could be very bad. If your father is still alive, and if he were to see it.”

  “You think you could still be in danger?” Hunter asked.

  Veronica heard the worry in his voice, and she suspected she knew the answer to his question.

  If her mother had been in the witness protection program, she must have been in serious danger. Now that her new identity had been revealed, she could be in danger again.

  “Veronica’s father is a very dangerous man,” Ling said, her tears replaced by a glint of anger. “He promised me back then that he would kill me if I ever left him. If he finds out I’m still alive, I have no doubt he will try to fulfill that promise.”

  “Are you still in contact with the witness protection program?” Hunter asked. “Is there someone there you can call for help?”

  Nodding up at him, Ling pointed toward the stairs.

  “Yes, I have a number saved. It’s in my phone upstairs.”

  Minutes later Veronica watched as her mother tapped on a contact in her list and waited. Almost immediately she heard a brusque voice on the other end.

  “U.S. Marshal Service, witness security program, how can I help?”

  Listening in numb disbelief as her mother explained who she was and what had happened, Veronica felt Gracie come up beside her and nuzzle at her hand.

  The Lab suffered from PTSD, having survived a brutal tour of duty in the Middle East with the
US Army, and after years of receiving treatment for the condition, she now had a knack for offering comfort in times of stress.

  When Ling finally put down her phone, she turned to Veronica and took a deep breath.

  “They’re sending someone here,” she said, swallowing hard. “They said to just sit tight and wait.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Nessa dragged herself into the kitchen and automatically poured herself a cup of coffee, even though she wasn’t sure she would be able to stomach anything this morning. She never did look forward to an autopsy, but the thought of Astrid Peterson’s pending autopsy seemed to be causing her more upset than most.

  Carrying the mug to the little kitchen table, she sank into a chair next to Jerry and rifled through the newspaper sections, looking for anything in the news about the body found in Old Willow Square the day before. She was worried there might be an unflattering picture of her from the press conference when she’d almost collapsed at the podium.

  Nessa hadn’t mentioned her little wobble to Jerry, and she didn’t want him finding out on the front page of the newspaper. But when she picked up the local news section, she was surprised to see that the death in Old Willow Square hadn’t garnered the main headline.

  “Mayoral Candidate Ling Lee’s Secret Identity Exposed,” she read aloud to Jerry, who had his face buried in the sports section.

  “What?”

  He lifted his head and stared over the paper in his hand as Nessa skimmed the article with growing incredulity.

  “The Gazette is saying that Ling Lee has been using an assumed identity. They claim her real name is Lisa Li, a woman from California who supposedly died twenty-eight years ago.”

  Studying the picture of Ling Lee next to the article, Nessa tried to make sense of what she was seeing. Could the story be true? Glancing at the byline, she saw Mackenzie Jensen had written the story, and she frowned over at Jerry, who had folded the sports section and put it back in the pile.

  “You think this could be Mayor Hadley’s doing?” she asked. “Some kind of ploy to discredit Ling Lee right before the election?”