Stolen Innocents
Kindle Version - Copyright 2014
All Rights Reserved – Addison Kline
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Stolen Innocents
ADDISON KLINE
Dedication
For my sister, Leigh
Prologue
July 22, 1974
Elkhart, PA
Forest of York
2:00 P.M.
Under the canopy of trees in the Forest of York, sounds of laughter echoed into the sanguine summer air. Gwen O’Mara stood in her rose garden at 27 Caribou Road hanging clothes on the line as the summer wind blew her dress and tousled her wavy blonde hair. She peered across the horizon, her gray eyes scanning the landscape to see where her three eldest daughters had gotten off to this time. She had told them not to wander far.
***
“Angie! Angie! You can’t catch me!” yelled young Tiffany O’Mara at her sister as she ran through a thicket in the Forest of York. Her strawberry blonde hair whipped behind her as she raced from flower to flower. Angela O’Mara crouched her tiny frame to the forest floor as she inspected the tree that towered overhead. She pretended not to hear her older sister’s taunts and continued to do what she pleased. She didn’t have time for such juvenile pursuits. Angie’s blue sundress fell just above her knees revealing scratches and scrapes that she had earned days earlier when she tried to climb the very tree she was inspecting today. Tried and failed.
“Angie! Didn’t you hear us?!” called Angie’s other sister Misty-Lee from beyond the thicket.
Tiffany yelled, “She’s ignoring us! That’s because Angie’s too slow to catch me!”
Misty quipped, “Tiff, you know Angie is the faster runner.”
Tiffany’s smooth lips curled up into a vindictive smile, “What do you expect from a tomboy?”
Somehow Tiffany always managed to make a sport out of proving that she was better than Angie at everything. Tiffany loved to taunt Angie and would go to great lengths to prove that she was the superior sister. Misty-Lee, though a much kinder and gentler soul than Tiffany, often played along if only to remain in Tiffany’s good graces. Angie had tired of their childish games. She was much more interested in the white tree that loomed overhead. At age twelve, Angie didn’t enjoy the same things as the other children and relished in the quiet that the forest provided. That, of course, did not apply on days like today when her sisters Misty-Lee, age ten, and Tiffany, age thirteen, tagged along with her.
Angie continued to dig in the warm dirt with her bare hands. She was intent upon discovering what mysteries lay hidden just beneath the surface of the forest floor. Her pace quickened as she pulled the earth out of the hole that she created – until a little glint of silver caught her eye. Her heart began to race as she dug out the treasure that was buried at the base of the Bone Tree. Her hands scraped frantically at the dirt, digging and digging until she had freed the object from its burial plot. She held the object in her hands; it was surprisingly heavy. Slowly, Angie brushed off the excess dirt from the top of the object, causing debris to fall to the ground below. The object appeared to be an ornate jewelry box with Victorian filigree work and the initials BEK inscribed on top in an elegant cursive monogram. Excitement coursed through Angie’s body as she observed the jewelry box.
Who would bury such a beautiful treasure? Angie thought.
As Angie pulled on the clasp to unlock the box, a voice rang out from behind her. Startled, she jumped at the sound.
“We mustn’t touch things that do not belong to us,” the voice said in a cool tone.
Angie turned around quickly with a frightened look in her eyes. It quickly faded when she saw her cousin.
“Bernard… You startled me,” said Angie as her heart raced in her chest.
Bernard smiled a slight grin at his young cousin, though his powerful gaze did not leave the box. He seemed mesmerized by the object; obsessed. Suddenly, Tiffany and Misty-Lee raced by Angie and Bernard, earning a vile glare from their older cousin.
“You girls shouldn’t play here. It’s dangerous,” Bernard warned coolly.
“Oh, be quiet, Bernard! My mother said to ignore you and your ridiculous stories!” shouted Tiffany with attitude rampant in her voice.
“Our Daddy said that we aren’t allowed to talk to you,” said Misty-Lee with fear visible on her round face. Her voice shook as she spoke.
Angie looked at Bernard intuitively as he spoke. Bernard slowly turned to Angie’s sisters.
With wide eyes he said to the girls in a malevolent voice, “Don’t think for a second that I care about what your coward father or naive mother thinks of me!”
Tiffany and Misty-Lee stood stark still as they looked at the anger in Bernard Kendricks’ face. He stared down at them, angry and threatening.
“Now go!” Bernard demanded, “Don’t come back to this place!”
Bernard didn’t have to tell them twice. Tiffany and Misty-Lee barreled up the path that led up to Caribou Road as terror rose from their cores. When Tiffany reached the top of the path, she swung around on her heels and she was horrified to see that Angie was still standing with Bernard. Angie held the box firmly in her hands. She stood her ground, unafraid. Unlike her relatives, she wasn’t frightened by her cousin Bernard. Quite the opposite, actually. She was amused by his eccentricities.
“Angie! C’mon!” yelled Tiffany with panic in her voice.
“Angie! What are you doing?!” yelled Misty-Lee as tears streamed down her round face. She couldn’t understand why her sister wanted to remain in Bernard Kendricks’ presence. Misty-Lee and Tiffany were terrified by Bernard’s presence.Tiffany glared at Angie with anger and confusion.
“Forget her… She’s crazy! Let’s go!” yelled Tiffany as she and Misty-Lee vanished from sight.
Bernard looked at Angie sadly and remarked, “They just don’t like me because I’m different.”
Angie replied, “Different isn’t such a bad thing.”
Bernard smiled, “That all depends on your definition of different, I suppose.”
Angie peered at Bernard with her pensive blue eyes. A sea of questions churned in her gaze.
“My father says that you’re dangerous,” Angie said cautiously as she waited to see a reaction form on Bernard’s face.
“He says that I shouldn’t go near you,” Angie continued.
Bernard shrugged his shoulders. “He’s probably right,” Bernard admitted with an unfazed expression on his face.
“Why doesn’t my father let you visit?”
“Because he doesn’t trust me.”
“Trust you with what?”
Bernard smiled a sly, sneaky smile. Just when Angie thought she was about to get some answers, Bernard simply shrugged instead. Without a beat, Angie continued her interrogation of her strange cousin. She was determined to get some answers.
“Why shouldn’t we play back here?” Angie asked as she looked at Bernard observantly.
“The tree… It’s ve
ry dangerous,” said Bernard in an eerie tone of voice.
“Seriously, Bernard? It’s just a tree,” said Angie quite reasonably.
Bernard laughed and replied, “It’s not called the Bone Tree for no reason.”
A perplexed look took over Angie’s face. The Bone Tree, Angie thought. She had heard the stories before. Bernard paused for a moment, deciding upon how much information he should tell his young cousin. Finally, he decided to go forth.
“Rumor has it that everything that touches the Bone Tree dies,” said Bernard creepily.
“That’s a silly child’s tale, Bernard. I climbed that tree yesterday. I’m not dead,” replied Angie, refusing to believe Bernard’s tall tales.
Bernard pointed at Angie’s scraped knees.
“Maybe not, but look at your legs. It looks like the tree let you off with just a warning.”
Angie rolled her eyes.
“Why did you bury a jewelry box by the tree?”
“It’s not a jewelry box,” replied Bernard. He was starting to get annoyed.
“What do you keep in it?” Angie asked as her persistence wore on Bernard’s patience.
Bernard replied in a chilling voice, “Whatever I deem necessary.”
Angie didn’t say a word. She simply watched Bernard with an intent expression. There was something bewitching about him. He was a mystery waiting to be unraveled. Bernard stood quietly under the canopy of the Bone Tree. A sparrow landed gently on his shoulder. He peeked at the bird and smiled sweetly at Angie.
“So, do you want to see what I use this box for?” Bernard asked with an alluring voice.
Angie shook her head.
“Okay, but only if you don’t tell anyone. Can you keep a secret?” asked Bernard as his face came closer to Angie’s.
“No one’s ever told me a secret before,” Angie admitted.
“Just because you haven’t heard one before, doesn’t mean they don’t exist. Everyone has a secret. Even you.”
“I don’t have any secrets,” insisted Angie.
“Keep telling yourself that. Everyone has secrets, and all secrets must come to light.”
“No, really… I don’t have any secrets yet…” said Angie convincingly.
Bernard’s gaze darkened as he stared into his young cousin’s face.
“Give it time. You will.”
Suddenly, the sparrow flew off Bernard’s shoulder and darted across the forest. It flitted from side to side, until finally it propelled its tiny body into the dark cavity of the Bone Tree.
“Hey! Where’d it go?!” asked Angie with a start.
Bernard smiled, “You wanted to know what I use my box for… Open it.”
Bewildered, Angie did as she was told. She pulled the clasp on the ornate box and watched the lid gently rise. Inside of the box lay a small piece of red satin. Intrigued, Angie gently pulled the satin out of the box and what lay beneath caused her stomach to lurch. Cradled in the box was a sparrow that lay unmoving – dead. There were no signs of life, but also no evidence of decomposition, either. In a moment a sheer panic, Angie dropped the box to the ground and ran up the path that led out of the forest. A scream flooded the air as Bernard laughed with pleasure. Bernard cackled loudly as he watched Angie O’Mara run frantically up the path. The sparrow that had entered the cavity of the Bone Tree just a moment earlier emerged from inside the hollow tree and landed gracefully on Bernard’s shoulder.
“I’ve always loved that trick,” Bernard said evilly. He smiled in twisted delight as he stepped over the dead sparrow that lay on the ground with the live one still perched on his shoulder. Slowly, he meandered down the path that led deeper into the Forest of York as a song whistled from his lips.
From the desk of Angela O’Mara - Macklon
Everybody in Elkhart has a secret, and if they say they don’t, they’re lying. I got out of there as quick as I could, and I never looked back. Longing to escape a past that kept me awake at night, I packed my beat-up hornet green Volkswagen with anything I couldn’t live without and left without a goodbye or a trace. My mother would never forgive me for my hasty departure, but I didn’t have a choice. I had to escape the evil that resided there. My life depended on it. With tears welling in my eyes, the VW met the open road. Its tires burned against the asphalt and I had no plans to ever show my face in Elkhart again.
As the landscape of the heartland raced past my window, I only had eyes for the road before me, with the exception of an occasional glance in the rearview mirror. I drove 2,700 miles to the coast. Not the Atlantic, which would have made more sense to some people, but the Pacific. The only thought that entered my mind was that I had to get as far away from Elkhart as I possibly could. And I did just that. I drove west from the mountains of Pennsylvania to the lush coast of the Pacific Northwest. I stopped only out of necessity; to rest, to eat, and to fill up the VW’s tank. Finally, after five long days of driving, I had reached my destination. Seattle: A place where no one knew my name or the past that I was running from. It would be a brand new start. But the past has a way of catching up with you. Never in a million years did I think that I would be right back where I started twenty years ago, looking into the face of the one person I had spent my life running from.
Part One
The Long Way Home
I heard you whisper,
In the dark of night.
Your voice was clear,
But you eluded my sight.
A ghostly encounter,
A phantom's flight.
Quickened my heart,
Mind frozen with fright.
The rustling of leaves,
Sending shivers up my spine.
Shadows of memories,
Stepping out of line.
I looked for you,
But no friend I could find.
Alone in the dark,
Your face clear in my mind.
~Excerpt from Phantom Flight by Addison Kline
Chapter 1
June 15, 2000
2324 Mariner Avenue,
Apartment 3B
Seattle, WA
6:00 A.M.
“Good Morning, Seattle! This is Jill Mayweather and it’s going to be a great day! Today is June fifteenth and we have all the headlines, but first let’s check the weather. You’d better bring an umbrella with you, because, you guessed it! It’s raining again! We’re expecting heavy rain all morning and we can expect a light shower this afternoon. It is expected to clear up by the evening commute. Tonight will be mostly cloudy with a high of fifty-nine…”
Angela O’Mara-Macklon’s alarm clock spewed out the morning news as she lay discontent under her covers. With just two hours of sleep, she contemplated whether or not she should even bother trudging to work to face her boss Felix and his grand inquisition. Angie was supposed to log in from home last night so that she could finish preparing the Thire deposition. Thanks to Jeremy’s series of dramatics, she never even got the chance to turn her computer on, let alone finish the necessary preparation needed for the upcoming court date. Jeremy, Angie’s husband of four years, decided to throw a full-fledged, level-five, atomic hissy fit when Angie arrived home late for dinner last night. A whole three hours and fifteen minutes late. Jeremy had spent the entire afternoon preparing a special dinner for them. It was a last ditch effort to invigorate some long-lost spark between them. By the time she strolled into their apartment at ten before eight, the candles were doused, the tilapia was cold, and Jeremy was sitting in the dark of the dining room seething.
The last words that Jeremy spewed at Angie like battery acid before he left her life forever was, “I feel like I don’t even know you anymore. What happened to you?! Who the hell are you, and what have you done with my wife?!”
The words still stung as the clock reflected the much dreaded hour of 6 A.M. Angie’s head pounded as she ripped the covers off of her body, revealing her bed clothes – A wrinkled gray pant suit that she had worn the previous day. Sleepily, she grazed
her hand over the empty space in the bed, his space, and sighed heavily as the weight of last night came crashing down upon her. Sucking up her pride, she forced herself to crawl out of bed. Angie’s long blonde hair fell over her tired face. She glanced in the mirror and immediately regretted doing so. She shuddered at her appearance, noting that she always looked so much older when she didn’t get a full night’s sleep.
Angie forced herself to walk to her closet as her bare feet scraped along the rough carpet. Quickly, she flicked through her wardrobe that was overflowing with dull pant suits, dresses and other corporate wear. It was a veritable sea of black, blue and gray. Finally, she pulled out a navy blue pencil skirt, a white blouse and a pair of black mules – An outfit that was almost as boring as what she presently had on. Angie carelessly tossed her garments on the unmade bed as she forced herself to face the day. Angie decided that it would be better to stay busy than wallow in her misery. Angie was already expecting an ear lashing from Felix, prolonging it would only intensify his wrath. The last thing Angie needed was to be on Felix’s bad side. Little did Angie know, her day was about to get a whole lot worse.
Stolen Innocents (The Shadow Series Book 2) Page 1
