Phoenix: Book One of The Stardust Series

by Autumn Reed

  “Are you really not going to tell me where we’re going? We’ve never even gone this way.”

  Dad’s laugh echoed in the quiet cabin of the truck. “Haley, I love your inquisitive mind, but sometimes it really is okay to be surprised.”

  With a playful tone, I responded, “You know, it is my birthday. Aren’t you supposed to cater to my every whim? You’re a terrible father. Really, just awful.”

  Ignoring me, he turned the volume up on the radio before glancing over at me. “Did you say something?”

  Shaking my head, I turned to the window to soak up the scenery. The mountains rose on one side while the other presented a valley dotted with homes and landscape much like our own. As we traveled further from Minden, the two-lane road became narrow and windy. Other than occasional turnouts, there were few roads that intersected it. The pine trees became denser and the cliffs steeper. It was difficult to gauge where we were and where we headed.

  The road continued to wind, and at some point we stopped climbing so much. Every so often I noticed passing houses hidden in the trees until we finally approached a small town complete with ski resorts and a casino. Assuming our destination must be near, I was surprised when Dad bypassed the center of town.

  Not long after, he turned onto a side street with a gated entrance and a guard shack. A variety of ornamental plants surrounded a large, stylized log topped with “Edgewood” in thick metal letters. After passing through the gate, our speed slowed and the scenery subtly shifted to a more manicured look. We passed gently rolling hills, pristine green grass, and a landscape peppered with trees.

  The parking lot overlooked a beautiful lake with a large chateau-style clubhouse perched on the edge of the water. Reminiscent of a chalet, it had a slanted roof line and multiple A-frame windows that jutted out. The structure was mostly glass with wood support beams accented by stone.

  The natural simplicity of the building’s design only served to augment its opulence. Set in the middle of the magnificent surroundings, the many faceted glass windows made it look like a jewel. I was speechless.

  We strolled into the clubhouse and immediately entered a sizable room. Guests weaved their way through the lobby to their various destinations. Some were dressed in casual golf attire while others wore suits with ties or colorful dresses. The wood plank ceiling and oversized furniture placed throughout created an effect that was both impressive and inviting. Large floral arrangements gently perfumed the air as we made our way to the restaurant.

  The restaurant had immense glass windows that stretched from the floor to the dramatic vaulted ceiling, showcasing the magnificent scenery. A medley of aromas wafted tantalizingly through the air. As we followed the host to our reserved table, I was suddenly more grateful than ever to Jessica for her gift. The overall grandeur of the setting combined with the spotless white tablecloths and elegant china deserved no less than a beautiful dress.

  Our table was located right next to the windows, and we had arrived in time to watch the sun set. The mountains beyond were reflected on the lake’s glass-like surface as the sun dipped lower in the sky. The host pulled out a chair and indicated I should be seated before placing a linen napkin in my lap and handing me a menu. I had never been anywhere this nice in my entire life; I was shocked Dad brought me here and hoped we didn’t look too out of place.

  I opened the cork-bound menu but was too busy scanning my surroundings to focus on the offerings just yet. The dim lighting cast a warm glow on the already picturesque scene. Elegant and well-dressed couples and families sat around tables topped with water glasses, a candle, and a vase with delicate white roses. The restaurant was fairly busy, and there was a hushed murmur as people conversed, clinked glasses, and ate their meals.

  I felt my dad’s eyes on me while I drank in the scene. I sensed that he was pleased with my reaction. The entire experience was overwhelming, and I so wanted to enjoy every moment of it.

  A waiter arrived at the table and took our drink order, reminding me that I still needed to look at the menu. After the waiter flitted away, I perused the options and stopped short when I realized there were no prices listed. Do they assume we are all regulars and know the price? Or do they just figure price isn’t a consideration for most of their guests? Either way, I now dreaded that it was even more expensive than I originally feared.

  Apparently reading my mind, Dad spoke. “Haley. It’s your eighteenth birthday and I wanted us to do something memorable. Order whatever you like.” I started to protest, but he shook his head firmly, clearly ending any further discussion on the matter. I finally decided on chicken stuffed with dates and cashews, served with yam dumplings and drizzled with a sherry shallot sauce. I assumed it was less expensive than lobster or steak, and it sounded really delicious.

  While we waited for the food to arrive, Dad and I made small talk. It was strange, because in that moment I felt both grown up and incredibly unsophisticated all at the same time. Surrounded by people in a nice restaurant, I wondered if this was what “normal” felt like.

  The setting sun painted a colorful display as vivid shades of orange contrasted against the deep blue lake. The silhouettes of the mountains and trees were still visible but gradually faded to darkness. I mentally snapped a photograph so that I could paint the breathtaking scene tomorrow.

  As I grew more comfortable in the unusual surroundings, questions began to creep into my mind. I could tell my dad put some effort into planning the evening, and I didn’t want to ruin it with questions about the past. But I also didn’t think I would be able to make it through an entire dinner without blurting out at least a question or two. I started trying to figure out how to confront him about our past and my future.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him reach for something in the interior pocket of his suit jacket. Before I could see what the item was, he hid it from my view. He looked me in the eye, and I sensed he was struggling with his emotions. “Haley, I can’t believe you’re turning eighteen. I will always see you as my little girl, but I’m so proud of the woman you’re becoming.” I blinked back a tear. Although my dad and I were close, I wasn’t used to such emotional statements from him.

  He paused and shifted in his seat, running his palm over his short hair before continuing. “I want to give you something special that belonged to your mom.” Revealing the item he’d been hiding, he placed a small midnight blue, almost black, leather box on the table in front of me.

  I gently untied the delicate white silk ribbon before opening the box. The inside was coated in velvet, and a sapphire and diamond ring sparkled when the light hit it. I gasped as I removed it carefully from the box, admiring the round-cut sapphires that alternated with diamonds connecting all the way around the band.

  His tone was solemn. “It was your mother’s wedding ring. Sapphire was her favorite stone, and I know it’s your favorite color. The sapphires always reminded me of the night sky she loved so much and the diamonds, the stars. Considering sapphire is also your birthstone, today seemed like the perfect time to give you her ring.”

  I was breathless and unable to respond as I slid the ring on my finger, smiling when it fit perfectly. “I want you to have it, and she would have wanted that too. Wear it and remember how much we love you.” The small round stones shimmered in the light, enchanting me with their perfection.

  I didn’t know if it was a real memory or just my imagination, but in that moment, I could see the beautiful ring on my mom’s finger as she placed my tiny hand in her own. Since I didn’t have anything else of hers, the ring meant more than any other gift my dad could have possibly given me.

  I was still staring at the ring when the waiter arrived with our dinner. With some fanfare, he lifted the domed silver lids off the plates to reveal my chicken entrée and Dad’s salmon. After the waiter left the table, I simply said, “Thank you.” I was too emotional to express the depth of my gratitude, but I could tell by my dad’s affectionate smile that he understood.

&nbs
p; Cutting into the chicken, sweet and savory notes filled the air. Each bite was bursting with flavors I had never experienced. Thanks to the pleasant atmosphere and phenomenal food, it felt as though we were floating in a bubble of delight.

  Suddenly, my mantra floated back to me. I can’t live like this anymore. I didn’t want to ruin the moment, but I knew Dad wasn’t on his guard, and I needed answers. Besides, I figured he opened the door when he gave me my mom’s ring.

  I eased into the conversation. “It’s nice to hear you talk about Mom. You promised to tell me about what happened to her and why we aren’t safe.”

  He gently dabbed his mouth with his napkin, obscuring his expression. I could tell from the shift in his eyes that he was not expecting this and was not pleased. “Let’s enjoy your birthday dinner, Haley. We can talk about this later.”

  I gritted my teeth and smiled, then looked him straight in the eye. “Please, Dad, I’ve waited long enough. I deserve to know.”

  He folded his napkin and replaced it in his lap continuing to smooth it despite its heavy starch. I realized I was holding my breath in anticipation. He sighed, “I guess I can’t put this off any longer.”

  Bittersweet

  My heart started pounding unnaturally fast. It was hard to believe that my dad was finally going to share what happened after all of these years of not knowing. He glanced quickly around the room and swallowed hard before speaking softly.

  “Before you were born, I was a cop in L.A. Your mom and I were happily married for a few years and were thrilled when you came along. Most of my cases up to that point were relatively short, and the danger was minimal. I worked my way up to detective and began handling more difficult cases. I was good at my job but regretted how often it took me away from you and your mom.” He took a sip of water and then tugged at his shirt collar.

  I saw uncertainty flash in his eyes. “A few months before your mother was killed, my partner and I infiltrated the local branch of a widespread criminal organization. Before going undercover, I took a few precautions, including purchasing our house in Coleville with cash that had been left to me by a distant relative.

  My partner and I worked on compiling evidence against several of the high-ranking members of the branch, but we were having trouble gaining access to the type of information that would take them down for good.

  As time went on, I felt increasingly uneasy about the situation. Operations within the organization appeared to be running too smoothly and most of the jobs we were included on dealt only with the legal side of the business that they used for cover. I stopped going home at all, unwilling to take a chance that I would be followed. Feeling the need for a backup plan in case something went wrong, I created new identities for each of us—you, me, and your mom—and stashed some extra money in a safe deposit box.”

  He scratched his hairline and I noticed the perspiration that glistened on his forehead. As he began smoothing his napkin again, I realized that I was gripping my own. Sighing deeply, he continued, “I still don’t know what gave us away, but somehow they figured out our real identities. Before we knew about their discovery, several members of the organization lured my partner to a remote location. I wasn’t supposed to be there but decided at the last minute to hide in the back of their truck.”

  He shuddered and quickly sucked in some air. “Not realizing what they had in mind, I was too late. One of the men shot and killed my partner—who was also my best friend—and I was helpless to react.”

  I stared at him in shock. In the back of my mind, I guess I always knew that nothing short of tragedy would have caused us to live the way we did. But hearing it out loud made it feel so real . . . and scary.

  I silently watched my dad as he tried to pull himself together. He was looking down at his hands and I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. But clearly recounting the events of so many years ago was painful for him, and I started to feel guilty for forcing it out of him. I waited until I couldn’t stand it anymore. “Then what happened?” I tried to appear reassuring, encouraging him to continue.

  He turned back to me and swallowed before quietly continuing his story. “I stayed hidden in the back of the truck, waiting for a chance to escape. During that time, I missed a scheduled rendezvous—where they no doubt intended to kill me—and they became suspicious when I didn’t show up. While I was still hiding, I heard the man who had just killed my partner talking to one of his men about his plan to track down your mother. He was hoping that she would lead them to me.”

  He paused again, longer, and closed his eyes. He took several deep breaths before reopening them. I reached out my hand and placed it on top of his. He looked back at me and then down to our hands on the table. His eyes held a devastation I had never seen before. “Haley, I know that by telling you that your mother died in a car wreck, I was letting you believe that her death was an accident. The car wreck part was true, but it wasn’t the full story. Your mom’s death wasn’t an accident. The car was forced off the road. She was killed because of me. It was my fault.”

  I sat up straighter and gently squeezed his hand before withdrawing my own. The skin of my palm felt clammy, and I feared what he had to say next. After pausing a moment more, he continued in a quieter voice. Although I knew it was my dad speaking, it sounded like the voice of a stranger.

  “Without going into the details, I was able to get away, and I rushed home to you and your mom. We sped out of town and headed toward the mountains. Night was falling as we reached increasingly isolated stretches of road. I was driving, and your mother was in the passenger seat; you were in the back seat behind me. It was well past midnight when I sensed a car following us. I tried to lose them, but they stayed right on our tail.”

  His voice began to shake. “When we neared a bridge that was in an area with no other traffic, they slammed into the back of our car. I maintained enough control over the car to keep from plummeting off the bridge but still ran off the road into a ditch. We hit a tree on your mother’s side of the car, and she was killed instantly. I got you out of the car and made sure it would explode, hoping that everyone would believe we all died in the crash. And then we ran.”

  He exhaled loudly. As upset as he looked, he also seemed kind of relieved. I didn’t even want to imagine how difficult it had been to keep all of that to himself for all of these years.

  Having reached the end of the story, he fell silent and I sat unmoving, stunned. Slowly the sounds of the restaurant and the world around us drifted back to me, but we sat there without speaking for a few minutes before the waiter returned for our dessert order. Eager for him to disappear again, we quickly selected the toffee pudding and crème brûlée.

  After the waiter whisked away the dessert menus, my dad reached out and rubbed the back of my hand that was resting on the table. “I believed in what I was doing, but it wasn’t worth your mom’s life. It wasn’t worth putting your life in danger. I’m so sorry, Haley.”

  Over the years, I had considered that on some level my mom’s death must have been connected to our move to the mountains. I just didn’t expect this type of dramatic outcome.

  Still in shock, I tried to fit all the pieces together before finally breaking my silence. “What happened to the criminals? Were they ever caught?”

  He looked down at the table and hung his head. “Unfortunately, they’re still out there and, I’m guessing, even more powerful than before. I still have my file on them, hoping one day they will be brought to justice.”

  I considered keeping the question to myself, but I just couldn’t. It was the one thing I had to know. “I don’t blame you, Dad, but I have to ask. Why did you choose to run? Why not go to the police and turn in the men who did this?”

  “That’s the clincher, isn’t it,” he replied. “I could spend the rest of my life trying to justify my decision to run. But it came down to one thing: I had to keep you safe. In that moment, I didn’t trust any other person but myself to do so, especially the authorities. I woul
dn’t be surprised if someone in my department sold us out to the organization.

  I had just lost my best friend and my wife that day. I couldn’t take the chance with you. And, as hard as it may be to believe, I have never regretted my decision. I know it’s been difficult for you, living like this. I’m sorry for that, Haley, I really am. But at least you’re alive.”

  “Is that why we are still in hiding?” I whispered.

  He nodded and, out of habit, glanced around the room again. “I wish we were safe after all this time, but something happened a couple weeks ago that you need to know about. I went to a safe deposit box in Sacramento to get your mother’s ring. While I was there, someone I used to work with recognized me and called out to me. I ignored him, but I have a feeling it won’t matter.

  I’m not telling you this to scare you, but I want you to be extra cautious for a while. If he tells anyone that he saw me, that information could end up in the wrong hands. I have no doubt that there are still plenty of people who would like to know that I’m alive.”

  He reached into his jacket pocket once again, this time pulling out a small key with the number 738 engraved on it. “Take this and try to keep it with you at all times. If anything happens to me, promise me you will run away and take care of yourself. Don’t worry about me, and don’t go to the police. When you think it’s safe, go to the First National Bank on Post Street in San Francisco. This key will open a safe deposit box that contains items to help you out.”

  “Dad, do you really think this is necessary?” I didn’t want him to think I was blowing off his warning, but I didn’t understand his insistence.

  “Haley, listen to me. I really hope it’s never necessary. But, I have tried to prepare you in case anything ever happens. I need to know that you’ll be strong and put yourself first. Understand?” I nodded and he forced a smile. “Good. Let’s not talk about this anymore right now. We’re supposed to be celebrating. It is your birthday after all.”