In the Shadow of Love

by Annie Bruce

  “Maggie, I–”

  “Shhh,” she whispered as she put her finger to his lips. “You said as far as I wanted to go.”

  It was her turn to see him blush.

  “Are you sure this is what you want?” He whispered.

  “More than anything.” She whispered back silencing any further objections with a sensual kiss. He grabbed her hand and kissed the soft skin of her palm. The caring yet sensual nature of his action made her tremble.

  “I’ll be right back.” He rose and headed towards the sign-in desk then hesitated and turned back. “Don’t go anywhere,” he whispered against her lips, his eyes gleaming with love and laughter.

  Maggie sank back in the over-stuffed couch. She loved big over-stuffed couches. They felt warm, inviting, and safe. She melted into its protection and closed her eyes and waited for his return.

  “He’s not what you think.”

  The unexpected words struck a nerve. She reluctantly opened her eyes and saw the back of a man as he left the great room of the lodge. He looked familiar.

  Morris returned just after the man disappeared and noticed right away that something was different.

  He rushed to her side. “What’s wrong?”

  “There was this man.”

  He looked around. “What man?” They were now alone.

  “He’s gone – but I’ve seen him before.”

  “Where?”

  “Back home.” Her lips trembled.

  “I’m taking you home.” He gathered her off the couch.

  “But what about the room!”

  “They didn’t have any. Don’t worry. I need to get you out of here.”

  The ride home began in silence then Maggie remembered where she’d seen the man before, his profile flashing before her yes. It was outside her brother’s restaurant. The same man who later followed her in an unmarked police car.

  “He’s a cop.”

  “What? ”

  “He’s a cop.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I saw him outside Florina’s after you left that first day we met.”

  “Maggie, I want you to think. What did he look like?”

  “Older. Heavy but not fat. About six foot one.” She paused then blurted out, “and in front of the restaurant I remembered he was smoking.”

  “In front of the restaurant? Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

  “I thought I was just imagining things.” Her voice lowered almost to a whisper. “I didn’t think that it meant anything at the time, even when I thought he was following me home.”

  They drove in silence for the next ten minutes as Morris wrestled with his thoughts. A bad feeling crept over him – she was describing Geridano. Then a more chilling thought invaded his mind, anger piking through his body.

  Was Geridano one of the dirty cops involved with the cover up of the Maryville murder case? Was Geridano following Maggie all this time and not him? Was Maggie a target? Did Geridano know something about Owen’s disappearance?

  “Is there anything else?” He kept his tone even, hiding his concern. Maggie was already worried enough for both of them.

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “No Maggie, I’m not mad at you. He paused and grabbed her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you but you need to tell me everything. Even if you don’t think it’s important.”

  She sunk back into the depth of the padded leather seat, a loud sigh escaping her lips. “He’s not what you think.”

  “Who?” Now it was his turn to be confused.

  “That’s what the man said to me tonight before he disappeared.” She turned her head away from him looking out her window into the black night, an occasional light on the horizon glowing like a lost star. She turned her gaze towards him. “What did he mean?”

  “I don’t know Maggie. Is there a reason you think I should?”

  “It’s just that so many things have happened lately and I don’t know what or who to believe anymore.” She began to sob uncontrollably, unleashing the tears and tension she had been fighting.

  Steering the car off the toll way he pulled into a service station parking lot. Folding her into his arms he held her tight, his lips pressed against her hair.

  “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I will get to the bottom of this.”

  He let her cry until she was spent, the sobs racking her body, then she went limp in his arms exhausted from the experience. Peeling her away from him, he let her body fall gently against the seat. He brushed her hair away from her face with his fingers and kissed her forehead.

  Half asleep, murmuring words he couldn’t understand, her head fell to the side as sleep gave her some temporary relief. Returning to the toll way his thoughts were a jumble of concern and determination as he headed towards her house and formulated a plan of action.

  When he finally pulled into Maggie’s driveway it was the middle of the night. He gently woke her and helped her into the house. He saw her into bed and sat down beside her as she struggled to stay awake.

  Grabbing his hand, she struggled to speak. “Please stay.” The words were barely audible as she muttered them through yawns of exhaustion. “I don’t want you to go.”

  Waiting until she fell completely asleep, he gently pulled his hand from hers, tucked her into bed and kissed her on the forehead as he would a frightened child.

  As Morris let himself out the front door he was unaware of the pair of eyes watching him from the side of the house.

  The dark figure waited in the bushes until the high-end car and its owner pulled away. Slipping into the back of the house, his skills as a cop made it easy to pry the door open. He’d done it before.

  It would be easy to take out the nosy Maggie Faraday right here and now, but that might complicate matters later on. She might prove more valuable in the future if he needed a hostage. He could dispose of her later. There was always time for that. Meanwhile he needed to get to those documents. The door to their hiding place was a flimsy one but had an intricate locking device. He’d need another tool for that.

  His mission would have to wait for another time. Turning to leave he noticed her purse and brief case. She was getting sloppy. He’d looked for her purse before but could never find it. Maybe he’d accomplish his mission after all but just in a different way than he had originally planned.

  He’d already been here twice and she never even noticed. Neither did that lousy excuse for a detective boyfriend of hers. He wasn’t sure which brought him more pleasure - the thrill that sneaking into someone’s house gave him, or the thrill of knowing that they didn’t even detect his presence.

  Searching through her purse he found what he was looking for - her electronic date book. He turned it on and the digital display shown bright in the darkened room.

  It wasn’t password protected! She definitely was too trusting. Like sleeping with that detective she’d just met - yes, too trusting.

  He paged through the entries and found what he was seeking, remembering it easily. It was simple for someone with his background. He would have figured it out on his own given a little more time. Walking over to the phone he picked up the receiver and dialed the number on the wall she had listed for her voice mail. He could remember that too. Within seconds he was in.

  Before leaving he needed to do one more thing. He climbed the stairs to the second floor, knowing those two brats of hers were gone. He saw them leave. He felt himself get excited. If his client wasn’t paying him so much money he might just have a little fun on the side. Reminding himself of why he was here he refocused not wanting to risk his mission. If he didn’t do the job and do it right, he wouldn’t get the rest of the money and he couldn’t let that happen.

  Night lights from various rooms and outlets cast enough illumination for him to walk quietly into the master bedroom. There she was. Her sleeping figure lay still beneath the quilted covers. She was in a deep sleep. He knew sh
e would be after seeing her nearly unconscious when that detective brought her in. He really expected him to stay – was surprised when he didn’t. Standing next to her as she slept he was glad the other man had enough sense to leave.

  Extending a glove-clad hand, he gently stroked the hair away from her face. She really was beautiful. He deserved to have her. He would just have to reward himself when his mission was done. In the meantime stroking her hair would have to be enough.

  She stirred suddenly. He froze not wanting to make a sudden move or sound that would wake her up. She settled back into her deep sleep mumbling that detective’s name. Soon she’d be mumbling his. He’d make sure of it.

  He slinked out of the house the way he came in, covering his tracks. Like a kid with the keys to his father’s car he felt a sense of power and exhilaration. Now all that he had to do was wait. Waiting was what he did best.

  Chapter 12

  Scattered rays of sunshine spilled in between the blinds waking Maggie up the next morning. Moments passed before she realized she was back in her own bed. The events of the night before played across her mind as she slowly woke from a deep, deep sleep, feeling as if she had been drugged.

  She reached for Morris. He wasn’t there. Relief and disappointment fought for her attention as she bolted up into a sitting position. The room began to spin around, her head pounding in protest. Slumping back into her pillow she waited for the world around her to settle down. Sitting up more slowly this time, she ran her hand through her hair, looking for any sign that Morris had stayed with her last night.

  Nothing. No smell of bacon cooking or coffee brought to her like the last time. Emptiness. She missed him already.

  Through her clouded memory she recalled his voice saying he wanted to get to the office and find out why another police officer was following them. A vague recollection of him helping her into bed fought through her throbbing head and she remembered asking him to stay, then his touch as he stroked her hair in the middle of the night. She dismissed it as a dream as the other half of the bed was untouched.

  Dragging herself into the bathroom she turned on the shower letting it warm up. She braced herself for the powerful touch of the falling water, turning the nozzle to the strongest setting. She sponged herself off vigorously, hoping to rid her body and thoughts of the man at the lodge and his stinging words.

  After all, how much did she really know about Morris? How could she be sure he wasn’t a dirty cop? They hadn’t known each other very long and the only other man she’d been intimate with was the father of her two children. Maybe things were moving too fast and maybe she was being an idiot for letting it happen.

  “Oh what’s the use!” Exasperated she grabbed the oversized towel that hung on the shower door rack and dried herself, her skin reddened from the pressure of dragging the towel across her body as she struggled with what to do next.

  Grabbing her robe she walked into her bedroom and saw the message light blinking on her telephone. Picking up the receiver she heard the special tone that told her there was a message. She dialed in. It was Davis asking her to return his call.

  Confused by the call she tried Morris instead. Attempts to call his office and cell went to voice mail. Leaving messages, she decided not to bother him at home. After last night he probably needed his sleep.

  Boys were coming home in a few days and she distracted herself by cleaning. School resumed the following Monday. She fought off the sudden feeling of loneliness that threatened her and decided to have one last look at the documents that had started this whole mess just a few months ago. The man she needed to talk to was Owen.

  But how? She couldn’t call his home and ask questions for fear she’d cause more trouble. She didn’t know who was in on this little charade of his and wasn’t sure that she wanted to know. She’d just have to see what she could find in the only link to Owen she had - the documents that now dominated her life.

  Morning turned into afternoon as Maggie continued to work, absorbed in her quest for answers. The phone rang jolting her away from her task, her eyes darting towards the clock that shined in florescent white on the front of her microwave oven.

  “Is it really that late!” She’d been working steadily for several hours and hadn’t even bothered to eat. Her stomach rumbled in protest as she crossed the kitchen floor in her slippered feet.

  It was Davis again. She had forgotten to call him back.

  “Maggie?”

  “Oh, Davis.” Using only last names was common among the police and the military, something she learned long ago and a protocol she comfortably adopted. So comfortable she’d never asked Morris for his first name. She made a mental note to rectify that. After all, he knew hers and so much more.

  “Did you get my message?” His voice crackled through the phone lines, the connection typical of a cell phone.

  “Yes, yes I did. I’m sorry I didn’t call back. I got absorb in looking back through Owen’s papers and lost track of time.”

  “Is Morris there?”

  “No.” Maggie’s heart sank. Why was Davis asking her about Morris?

  “Do you know where he is?” Concern punctuated his question.

  “He said he was going into the office to do some more work on the case, but I left him messages on both his cell and work phone.” She hesitated as a sinking feeling took over her mood, which hadn’t been good all day. “He hasn’t called back.”

  She waited for Davis’ response but only dead silence hung in the air.

  “Is anything wrong?” She pleaded. “Davis?”

  The line went dead. Maggie punched in the code to call back the most recent number. A busy signal greeted her. With cell phones that could mean a number of things. He’d call back. He had to. Where was Morris and, more importantly, why wasn’t he here with her when she needed him most!

  “Ring, damn it, ring!” She stared at the phone mentally willing it to do as she bid. Picking up the portable she paged through the phone numbers listed on the display. Caller ID. She still wasn’t sure how to use it, but right now she was praising this marvelous invention. Just as she was writing down the last number listed the phone rang.

  It startled her so that she almost dropped the receiver. Fumbling, she struggled to turn it over then pressed the talk button, forgetting all about the caller id and the wonderful invention that it was.

  “Davis?”

  “Maggie?”

  “Morris! I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day.” She sounded like a scolding mother.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, er no, I mean I’m not sure.” And she wasn’t.

  “Look, Maggie, I’ll be right over.”

  “Don’t hang up.” But it was too late. The line went dead. There was certainly a lot of that going on today.

  Maggie wasn’t sure what to do next. Her life didn’t seem to be her own anymore. People coming in and out of it, following her when she didn’t want to be followed, pretending to be dead when they weren’t. It was too much. She wanted her life back the way it was just a few short days ago.

  Pacing her kitchen floor, she nibbled on her thumb. She had to think this through. She was tired of feeling like a victim in her own home. She had to do something - anything to feel back in control of her own life. But what? Oh sure, she could look at documents and tell you who wrote them and who didn’t. She could even pinpoint the time period in which they were written based on a turn of a phrase. But investigate a crime, especially a murder? Well, that was a different matter all together, and quite a dangerous one.

  Logically, she needed to talk to Owen. Maybe confronting him wasn’t such a bad idea if it would get her to the bottom of this terrible mess. But she still couldn’t go to his house. Somebody might be following her and realize that he was still alive.

  And what would she say? Hi I know Owen’s dead but I just want to go through a few of his things if you don’t mind. She hadn’t been to his house in more than three years and that was th
e last Christmas that his dear wife Helen was well enough to receive guests.

  Owen had to be somewhere, but where? She had to think of a place nobody would suspect – a place that Owen wouldn’t have told too many people about.

  Just as Maggie was beginning to formulate her plan the sound of tires screeching pulled her attention towards the street in front of her house. It was Morris. Dashing from the car to the front door he looked determined to break his way in if necessary. She opened the door just before he could muscle his way through it. Startled by his behavior, she moved aside to let him in - actually run in as if he were about to tackle a football player.

  He quickly pulled Maggie safely behind him then drew his weapon.

  “What’s going on?” She was horrified by the sight of his gun.

  “I thought you were in danger.” He was slightly out of breath.

  “Why would you think that?” Maggie was perplexed and still startled.

  Morris steadied himself away from her and returned his weapon to its holster. “Because you sounded afraid and frantic on the phone.”

  “Oh.” Maggie looked down at her feet. She didn’t mean to upset and worry him. They’d both had enough of that lately. “But I tried to tell you not to hang up.” She admonished him. “Why did you hang up?” She recalled the last time she was really afraid and frantic, he talked to her the whole time until he arrived.

  “I didn’t.” His response confused her. “We were disconnected.”

  Heading into the kitchen retrieved the portable phone and pressed the talk button. The dial tone was loud enough for both to hear.

  “It’s working just fine,” her frustration apparent.

  Morris looked back at her in disbelief as she held the portable in her hand. “Maybe it was the connection from my cell that went dead.”

  “So, where were you all day.” She didn’t mean to sound defensive but it was a question she had to ask.

  “I went to Maryville to get some answers. Didn’t you get my message?”