Shadow of the Storm

by Candle Sutton

  In many ways, he’s right, though.

  It’s been a rough week. The hospital kept me longer than I would’ve liked due to the amount of trauma and an infection that flared up. They finally released me today.

  And where’s the first place I go? Work. Or, at least, the place I’ve worked for the past two weeks of my insane, mixed-up life.

  At least I was able to get ahold of SAC Jackson.

  Of course he’d already heard a lot of the story from the Reno PD, but I wanted to give him my side.

  I needed to give him my side.

  Once he heard I’d been discharged, he arranged for my return flight and gave me strict orders to go straight to his office when I landed.

  He doesn’t seem to care that tomorrow is Sunday.

  My hand slips down Drew’s cheek. When will my energy return to what it should be?

  Drew catches it, presses a kiss to the back of my hand, then holds it tenderly in his own. “What time is your flight tomorrow?”

  “8:20.”

  “I’ll drive you. And maybe treat you to breakfast?”

  I really, really wish I didn’t have to go. “Sounds amazing.”

  “I’ll miss you.” Simple words, but the emotion I hear behind them is anything but simple.

  “Me, too.” Pressure builds in my throat, behind my eyes. I’d like to blame it on the fatigue, but the reasons are more complex than that. “We’ll figure this out.”

  “You know it.” A smile crosses his face. “Even if I have to show up on the FBI’s doorstep looking for you.”

  It’s hard to believe how important Drew is to me. Especially after such a short amount of time.

  In spite of the reasons behind it, my time in Reno has made my life better.

  Made me better.

  More than that, thanks to God and His love for me, nothing will ever be the same again.

  ᴂ ᴂ ᴂ ᴂ ᴂ

  “I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever see you again.” SAC Jackson rises to a position as straight as a lightning rod that gives evidence of his military background. In contrast to his gleaming, bald head, bushy eyebrows lower over blue eyes that show concern.

  “You almost didn’t.” I cross the room to shake his hand before practically collapsing into a chair across from him.

  That flight took more out of me than I’ll ever admit aloud.

  His gaze dissects me. “Why don’t we do this tomorrow? You look half a step away from death.”

  I shake my head. “No. Let’s get this out of the way now.”

  Besides, I have the feeling that when my head touches my pillow, I just might sleep for a week straight.

  The hardest part is deciding what’s relevant to the investigation and what to leave out. He obviously doesn’t care about… whatever it is I’ve got going on with Drew… nor does he care about Sam or Zak or Malachi.

  Except, maybe, for Malachi and Drew’s timely arrival at the warehouse. Not that I can tell him exactly how they knew where to find me, but he’ll need to know that they saved my life.

  I begin by briefly touching on Ryan’s betrayal, since it was the reason I didn’t have my phone or weapon, move on to Saul’s murder, my escape, the amnesia and memories, and end with the attack in Reno.

  Even recounting the events of the past few weeks is exhausting.

  Jackson doesn’t interrupt, not even to ask questions or clarify. He leans back in his chair, watching me the whole time, dancing a pen across his fingers as the recorder on the desk between us captures my entire statement.

  Silence lingers. My words jumble and echo in my mind.

  But there’s one thing that’s been bothering me and now might be a good time to find the answer.

  “How could he think he’d get away with it?” Okay, I’m even more tired than I thought. That made no sense. “I mean, Strand was using official channels to find me. Did he really think this wouldn’t be traced back to him? When he had no legitimate reason to be tracking me?”

  Jackson’s pen stills. “Actually, he was heading the investigation into your disappearance.”

  “He works cybercrimes. Why would he be involved in a missing persons investigation?”

  “He volunteered. Said he thought it might be connected to that case you recently helped him close. He had some evidence and seemed really concerned about it, plus his caseload was light at the moment, so the decision was made to let him run with it.”

  Yeah, I bet he was concerned. Concerned I’d turn him in.

  And any evidence he had would’ve been manufactured, a simple matter for someone specializing in cybercrimes.

  Jackson asks a few follow-up questions, which I answer almost on auto-drive, before closing the conversation. “I want you to take the next two days off. Rest up. I don’t want to see you back here before Wednesday, understand?”

  He doesn’t have to tell me twice.

  Uncle Saul’s face flashes through my mind.

  I know he’s dead, but I have to ask. I need to have it confirmed. “Uncle Saul. Is he…?”

  A single nod. “He was discovered by a secretary the next morning.”

  “Do we know what happened? Why he was killed?” Even as I ask it, I have a pretty good idea. He had to have been the one embezzling. And from what I overheard, it sounded like he might’ve had a drug habit. Or gambling. Something that required significant amounts of cash and would constitute a need for rehab.

  “Still working on it.” Jackson rubs the back of his neck and sighs. “We found some cocaine at his place and trace amounts in his system. My guess is he was stealing to feed an addiction.”

  It sounds even worse in the open. “What about the extra money? Saul was only giving them ten thousand.”

  “Likely more payoffs. The investigation will tell us for sure.”

  “Thank you.” Rising, I turn for the door.

  My hand is on the knob when his voice sounds behind me. “And Parker? Welcome back.”

  “Thank you, sir.” No point in telling him that I don’t really want to be back.

  My heart is still in Reno.

  ᴂ ᴂ ᴂ ᴂ ᴂ

  I don’t know why I’m here.

  I close the door of the taxi, grip the duffel bag with the limited possessions I acquired in Reno – minus the cash, of course – and face the house in front of me.

  Funny how little it’s changed since I was a child.

  And how much I’ve changed in the last two weeks.

  I can’t move. Whether it’s from sheer exhaustion, residual weariness from the trauma of Strand’s attack, or trepidation about seeing my family, I don’t know. It could be any of the above.

  Maybe all of them.

  Turns out my wallet, my real wallet with my real ID and credit cards, was in my desk drawer. Right where I left it before that final date with Ryan three weeks ago.

  I can’t believe it’s only been three weeks. It feels like a whole other lifetime.

  Then again, in many ways, it is.

  Thanks to Jesus, and some very special people He used to get my attention, I’m not who I was when I left the FBI that night. That version of me is long gone.

  Replaced by one who is infinitely better, I hope.

  I stare at the wide stone steps.

  I should’ve gone home. Gotten a good night’s sleep and been refreshed before facing the drama that always comes with seeing dad.

  Yet here I am.

  Honestly, my parents deserve to know I’m okay. And maybe part of me really wants to see them face to face.

  My legs feel like the marble pillars gracing the front of the mansion. They carry me forward with a heaviness unlike anything I’ve ever known. Tromping up the stairs, I drag myself to the front door and try the handle.

  Locked.

  Naturally.

  I press the doorbell.

  Chimes echo inside.

  How much does dad know about what happened? Will he see this as my fault? Think, somehow, that I’m responsible for Saul’s dea
th? That none of this would have happened if I’d just joined the family business as he wanted me to?

  Could he be right?

  I don’t know. But I’m too tired to think about it right now.

  Silence. For what feels like ages. Before I hear movement behind the door.

  The deadbolt scrapes and the door swings open.

  “Mi Corazon!” Guadalupe, who has been our housekeeper for as long as I can remember, pulls me into a hug that’s surprisingly fierce for such a small woman. “Oh, mija, mija.”

  I hug her back. Tears burn my eyes. “It’s okay, Adalu. I’m home.”

  Without even thinking about it, I revert to the pet name I called her as a child.

  She strokes my hair, her tears dampening my shirt. “We’ve been so worried.”

  At least she has. I’m not so sure about my parents.

  “Come, come. You must see tu padre.”

  “In the library?” It’s where both he and mom frequently spend their evenings, dad surfing various financial sites while mom checks out the latest fashions from Paris or Milan.

  Adalu nods and I move toward the stairs.

  I pass the darkened guest room and the bedroom that was once my own. Light spills from the room at the end of the hall.

  Pausing outside the door, I draw a deep breath.

  If only I knew what to expect from dad. He’s so unpredictable.

  I cross the threshold.

  Mom looks up first. Her gasp seems monstrous in the silence and a hand trembles to cover her mouth.

  “Hi Mom.” Hoarseness lines my words.

  She pushes up from her chair and flies across the room.

  “Audra.” The word comes out half-spoken, half-sobbed. She clings to me, her body wracked by weeping she can’t seem to control.

  I smell the musky tones of dad’s cologne seconds before his arms envelope us both.

  He doesn’t cry, not that I’d expect him to, but when we finally part, there’s a redness to his eyes that shows tears aren’t far away.

  “Oh, Audra.” Mom’s fingers flutter across the bandage on my cheek. “We’ve been so scared.”

  Of course they were scared. How could I have ever expected any less? I’m such a jerk. “I’m sorry.”

  Dad’s gaze travels across my face. “What happened?”

  For several seconds, all I can do is stare at him. He’s a different man than the last time I saw him. More frail, somehow. It’s not something physical, but I can see the difference in the slope of his shoulders, the sagging of his face.

  He’s broken.

  I may bear the physical marks of the past two weeks, but I’m stronger than ever. Dad, on the other hand, doesn’t have a mark on him, but the trauma has taken a toll.

  Perhaps permanently.

  My legs shake, reminding me that it’s been a long day and I’m not yet back to full strength.

  “Let’s sit down.” Before my legs drop me to the floor.

  Once we’re all seated, I fix my attention on my father. “What do you know about everything that happened?”

  “Saul was…” He closes his eyes and swallows several times. “Killed. At the offices. Evidence indicated you were there, but…”

  His shoulders move in what might be a shrug.

  “But you don’t know why?”

  Dad shakes his head. “The police are speculating that it was a robbery, but the investigation is ongoing and they aren’t telling me anything.”

  Naturally.

  “It wasn’t a robbery.” My words come out soft, but dad obviously hears them. “And I was there. I saw the whole thing.”

  With Strand in custody and given the evidence against him, Jackson gave me the approval to tell my dad what really happened.

  Not a fun job, but I’m glad he’s hearing it from me and not someone else.

  I recap the past few weeks, leaving out some of the grittier details, as well as most of what happened in Reno. There’ll be a time and place to tell them about God, Drew, Malachi, and Zak, but this isn’t it.

  By the time I finish, my face is soaked, my eyes burn, and I can hardly breathe.

  Even dad has lost all composure.

  A minute of silence ensues before dad clears his throat. “What were you even doing there? Where was Ryan through all this?”

  Obviously that was one detail I shouldn’t have left out. “He didn’t tell you what happened?”

  Dad’s eyes narrow. “He knows? He’s been acting all concerned about you this whole time. Are you telling me he knew what happened?”

  “Wait. Ryan’s been at work?”

  “Without Saul, I’ve needed him more than ever. Why wouldn’t he be there?”

  Wow. It takes a special breed to use and betray the boss’ daughter so thoroughly and still show up for work. “Because he’s a big fake, that’s why.”

  Dad’s face flushes and his features tighten as I explain what happened.

  Part of me wants to spare dad the grief – after all, he was grooming Ryan for an executive level position – but another part of me wants to see dad fire Ryan on the spot.

  Okay, most of me wants to see that.

  “You mean he just left you? In that part of town?”

  A reply scratches my tongue, but dad doesn’t give me a chance to speak.

  “Do you know what his plan was? Corporate espionage? Hostile takeover?”

  I wish I knew. I shake my head. “No. I was so mad that I didn’t try to get it out of him.”

  “Well, arrest him! That badge of yours oughta be good for something!”

  We all know that he’s only half serious.

  Dad rockets to his feet and paces the length of the sofa. “He’s finished. After this… I’ll fire him personally. Tomorrow. First thing. No one treats you that way and gets away with it.”

  As much as I want to see Ryan suffer as I have, the man is good at his job. And dad’s right. Without Saul there, he could use the help. “Maybe you should… I don’t know, give him a chance to explain?”

  Dad’s eyes bug. “Explain? What is there to explain?”

  “I’m not saying you should trust him, but it might not hurt to give him a chance to earn your trust. Maybe he learned something from all this.”

  “He’ll learn something all right. Especially by the time I’m through with him.”

  At least dad’s gotten a little bit of his fire back. This version of dad I know how to handle. The quiet, beaten one is a stranger to me. “Maybe you should cut him some slack. Besides, you really need him at the office right now, don’t you?”

  “Audra, really.” My mother’s lower lip trembles. “You could’ve been killed!”

  “That wasn’t technically his fault. I made the choice to get out of the car.”

  “He should’ve stopped you.”

  “You really think he could have? You know me better than that.” Stubbornness runs in the family, after all.

  “I’d think you of all people would want to see him pay for what he’s done.” Mom scrutinizes me.

  I’d think so, too.

  How’d I go from wanting to see Ryan suffer to defending him? Especially in the space of only a few minutes?

  That level of introspection takes way too much energy.

  I sigh. “Two weeks ago I wanted nothing more than to see him fry. But now, with everything that’s happened,” like almost dying, “I guess I’ve learned to not sweat the small stuff.”

  And from my perspective, it doesn’t get much smaller than Ryan.

  Dad stops midstride and stares at me like I’ve just told him I decided to become a monk and move to Tibet. “You’ve changed.”

  Leave it to dad to come to the party late. “I have. A lot.”

  He sits hard, still staring at me. “You almost seem like you have… peace.”

  “I do. With everything that’s happened, it’s kind of crazy, but I have peace like I’ve never had before.”

  “How is that possible?”

  Really, I�
��m way too tired to get into this now, but for the first time in a long time, dad’s truly listening. More than that, he wants to know.

  What I think.

  What I’ve found.

  And who am I to deny him the truth I’ve come to know?

  “Let me tell you about Jesus.”

  Dedication and Acknowledgments

  Dedicated to Jesus Christ, the One who loves unconditionally and gave His life for me and you. His story is the greatest one ever told and without Him, this story would be nothing but meaningless words on a page.

  Thank you, God, for placing dreams in our hearts and giving us what we need to see them through.

  So much goes into the writing of any novel, but without the encouragement and support of family and friends, it would never become what you see today. A special thanks for my test readers: Linda, Janet, & Del, who faithfully and eagerly proofread everything I send them (even last minute scene changes, as this book had!) then offer solid feedback to make the story better. I couldn’t do it without you.

  Thank you Mom and Dad, for always believing in me and my dreams… even when they’re a little crazy! To Carissa and Grant, for being sounding boards when I need to know the science behind something. To my family & friends for all the excitement and positivity you’ve shown as I pursue this dream.

  Last, but certainly not least, to each of you who holds this in your hands. Thank you for supporting me and allowing me to share with you the words and ideas God has given me. I’d love to hear from you. Feel free to email me at candle.sutton@outlook.com or connect on facebook.com/candlesutton. If you enjoyed Shadow of the Storm, maybe you’d consider writing a short review on Amazon?

  I pray these stories both entertain and challenge you to grow in your walk with God, for nothing matters more. And if your Bible hasn’t been cracked open in a while, why not start today? It’s far better than anything men or women can create – it holds the words of life!

  A note from the author

  I’m so glad you joined me on Stormy’s journey of self-discovery! I hope you enjoyed getting to know the characters as much as I did. I heard from several of you that you weren’t quite ready to let Lana and Paul go so… watch for a follow-up to the Deadly Alliances series, available in 2017. Deadly Deliverance will tell Dimitrios’ story, but Lana and Paul will be woven throughout. I’ve included a sneak preview to give you a glimpse of what to expect.