Flying in Shadows (The Black Creek Series, Book 2) (2 page)

A man impatiently searched the Nolan home. He could do a decent sweep through a house
this size in just under twenty minutes. Not bad, he thought, even as frustrated nerves
bubbled beneath his skin. "But where is the fucking cash?" he ignited, clearing the
contents of the kitchen counter in one sweep of his arm.

He was an average-looking man with stringy blond hair. It lay on the golden skin of
his shoulders exposed from the tank he wore in the heat. His light blue eyes darted
around the room as he worked to contain his temper.

"So, this is where you live now, Mandy baby. Doin' good for yourself."

He looked around at Amanda's house. It was like frigging Mayberry and had to have
some dough in it somewhere. Having already tossed around her dressers and closets
upstairs, he grew angrier by the minute. Mandy didn't like it when he was angry, he
remembered, as he ran his hand down the front of his pants. He knew her from before
she had the little house and family. It seemed like she had maybe two daughters from
the look of the rooms upstairs. Wasn't that just fucking nice?

"Where do you keep the rich girl money, Mandy?"

He tossed through coffee cans and the wraps in the freezer. Glancing around the kitchen
cabinets into the living room, he considered the wall of electronics and had to remind
himself he was just here for the money. Keep a low profile. Don't take anything that
could be traced. That's what kept him in the game. It had to be here. She always had
cash. Maybe it was on her. He could wait. Nice reunion, huh? Took him long enough
to find the bitch. This was a long way from Nicaragua, where he first met her.

Hearing the front lock turn, he sneered with anticipation and stepped behind a corner.
He looked around just enough to see who came through the front door. An elderly man
walked in like he owned the place. Tossing his keys on the base of the entertainment
center, the geezer headed straight for the kitchen, whistling some old jazz shit.

The intruder didn't look for a place to hide. Didn't want a place to hide. This was
too perfect. He used his lightly gloved hand to skim his knife out from under the
cuff of his pants. When the old man noticed him it was too late, of course. He turned
to run as the smooth blade went through the thin, wrinkled skin of his back. The intruder
closed his eyes and nearly purred as the knife reached soft flesh. Expertly, he moved
his arm out of the way of the dripping blood and backed up to let the frail man fall
where he stood.

Standing over the old man, he watched the blood begin to seep from his mouth. He could
swear the guy had a look of recognition on his face as he gaped. His eyes were open
like saucers, but not with the shock of impending death like most of his prey. Huh.
If this was Mandy's old man... No, he tilted his head back and forth to judge as he
watched him writhe in his blood. Too old. Must be grandpa, he decided. If this was
Mandy's gramps, he corrected himself, he'd sure never met him before. He was trying
to say something. Bending down, the intruder heard something about a rose before the
old man went still with death.

* * *

Lucky for Rose, she had Andy sitting in the seat next to her. If not, she knew the
ride home wouldn't be such a quiet one. Her mom and stepdad didn't yell at her in
front of Andy... usually.

She'd carpooled with him since they started grade school. His house was just across
her cul-de-sac and over Black Creek. She would have been much happier in her mom's
car. It was an embarrassing olive green minivan, but at least it wasn't a frigging
cop car. Rose's stepdad was a detective—Detective Dave Nolan. The American-built sedan
they rode in screamed
unmarked cop car
with its tan color, factory hubcaps and searchlight tucked near the driver's side
window.

They sat in the deafening quiet of the backseat as they drove from Bloom to Rose's
home. The windows were rolled up and the air on. Her fuming mother added to the heat
as she sat stock-still in the front passenger seat.

The houses grew larger and the driveways longer as they came closer to their neighborhood.
Rose sort of liked how everyone had big yards here, not like the new homes near the
school that were so close together.

Northridge, New York, was a comfortable size—not so big that it was crammed with people,
yet it was still close enough to Rochester and Binghamton if someone wanted to get
away to a bigger city. The aging hickories and maples towered with millions of leaves
that were just changing from the light color of spring to a deep summer green.

As they turned onto her street, Rose stealthily cocked her head, glancing at Andy.
The waves of his caramel colored hair were just long enough to hide his eyes from
the side, yet he must have sensed her gaze because he turned to look at her. Both
of their shoulders jiggled slightly with a silent chuckle. She decided it was better
to quickly look back out her window rather than get caught laughing in the backseat.

Her house was the smallest one on the short street. It wasn't really even theirs.
It belonged to her great-granddad. He had been living in sin down the street with
the feisty widow Lucy Melbourne since Rose was five years old. Rose and her anti-nuclear
family rented the conservative house from him ever since her mom had married Dave
and became Amanda Nolan. Rose kept her mother's maiden name—something about her mom
not wanting to search for Rose's dad so that Dave could formally adopt. Name or no
name, Detective Nolan was good to her. Hopefully, she would still be able to say that
after they had
the talk
about her little disagreement with the boys at school.

Detective Nolan pulled in the drive and shifted the car into park.

Here we go, Andy thought, as he took a deep breath.

He cringed as Rose's mom turned to face the two of them in the backseat. "You." She
pointed her finger at him. "Stay."

Then, she turned to Rose.

"You," she said to Rose. "Come with me. I have just enough time to deal with you before
I need to pick up your sister."

Andy noticed Rose glance back at him before slinking out of the squeaky vinyl seat.
He gave her a sympathetic look through the window as she shut the door.

Mrs. Nolan was giving her hell as they stood in the drive. He felt bad for Rose. It
wasn't her fault. That dickhead Devon and his boys were always ganging up on her.
Then again, Rose was pretty easy to rile up. Still, she was a girl and that was just
wrong.

Andy cringed a little deeper as Detective Nolan turned around in the front bench seat
to face him.

Oh boy. He hated when he talked to him with his gun in that sling thing, and Andy
saw him put it back in there as soon as they left the school. Rose's stepdad was intimidating
enough without the gun. He wore his usual dress pants and casual shoes, button-down
shirt and badge attached to his belt. He was a mountain of a man and he loved Rose
deeply, which meant he wouldn't be one of those stepdads who shrugged and turned away
any time his wife's daughter got into trouble. Everyone knew he thought of Rose as
his own and would take the time to come up with just punishment, meaning she might
very well be grounded for the whole damned summer.

"Did you see it happen?" Detective Nolan asked bluntly.

Lucky for Andy,
he
hadn't been caught. Rose would never squeal, and the gang would be too embarrassed
about getting licked by a shrimpy girl. With Andy's aunt working at the school, getting
caught would have been very ugly for him. Still, he trusted the detective and owed
Rose. So, faithfully, he confessed. The skin on the back of his neck prickled before
he spoke.

"Yes, sir, Detective Nolan. I saw it."

"Don't give me that
Detective Nolan
crap, Andy. I want to know what happened."

"She's tried all that conflict resolution stuff. They pick on her. You should check
the left side of her ribs. I bet she's got old and new bruises from the times they
nail her as they pass in the hall. She'll never tell anyone and kill me if she finds
out I told you." He looked pleadingly at the big man. "They call her a dyke, Mr. Nolan...
Dave."

His eyes darted to Andy's. "What? Why?"

Grabbing the seat next to his knees, Andy took one deep breath and decided he probably
should have left that part out. "She doesn't wear that stuff in her hair and the sandals
like the other girls. She likes to shoot hoops at recess instead of standing around
and whispering."

Mr. Nolan turned and looked toward Mrs. Nolan and Rose, then shook his head and muttered,
"Age ten is too old for girls to wear Wrangler jeans and t-shirts and prejudices are
already forming?" He turned back but didn't make eye contact. "Does she know what
it means?"

"No, sir. I don't think she does." The fun was over. Andy looked out the window and
watched his best friend already working off her crime by picking up sticks under their
enormous weeping willow.

He watched as Rose turned to him and mouthed the word "chicken" just before they heard
a scream so heart wrenching neither of them would ever forget.

Chapter 2

Fear wrapped around her feet and shot up to her heart. Rose stood perfectly still
as sounds came from her mother she'd never heard before. Screaming, sobbing, choking.
Her eyes darted from the house to Dave and back again.

He bolted out of the sedan and up the drive.

Her mother came running out of the house. Tripping down the concrete steps, she caught
herself with her hands on her knees. She stood like that, bent over, before she vomited
on the sidewalk. Her mom waved a hand behind her, pointing toward the front door.

Dave pointed his finger at Rose as he ran past. "Get in the car and stay there." She
obeyed, but not before she noticed him draw his gun.

She sat in the backseat, windows up, side-by-side with Andy. Although her skin was
chilled, beads of sweat formed along her hairline as they sat speechless with their
noses against the glass of the side window. She could feel her thigh shake against
Andy's leg and welcomed his warmth. She waited with him for what felt like hours.

Although visibly shaking, her mom tore back into the house. She left the front door
wide open. Rose couldn't see anything inside.

Her stepdad brought her mom back out under his arm and held onto her while she kicked
and screamed. As he spoke into the walkie hooked to his shoulder, he hauled her to
the car, opened the passenger door and gingerly placed her in the front seat. "Stay
here for a few minutes. Amanda, look at me. I need to check the house. Stay with the
kids."

The silence terrified Rose. She looked down and saw her hand was linked with Andy's.
It was shaking as her mother's had done.

"Mom," Rose whispered in a voice so hardly audible she could barely hear it herself.

* * *

Rain drizzled on black umbrellas. The manicured grass wasn't yet soggy, but Andy could
feel drips blowing on his pants. Air lingered cool and thick as they stood in silence,
listening to more words spoken about his best friend's great-granddad. Didn't they
already do that at the funeral home? Scanning the array of flowers and bushes, he
thought of his parents' graves. It was tradition they brought fresh flowers each year
to recognize their birthdays and wedding anniversary—never on the date they died in
the plane crash.

The image of Clifford Piper in the dark wooden casket was unsettling. They had him
in a crisp, white shirt, buttoned up to his neck with a black bow tie. He never wore
that stuff. His face seemed alive, as if he was simply sleeping. But, his hands looked
like a mannequin's.
 

Andy's family was there, of course, to share in the grief and offer support—his uncle,
Nathan, who raised him and his brother after the death of their parents; his wife,
Brie; and their three kids, who were like siblings to Andy rather than cousins. He
felt oddly fortunate at that moment, and then guilty when he turned to look at Rose.
She was so sad.

Although she never tanned, Rose looked paler than usual. Her fair skin might get a
few freckles in the summer, but she would hit him in the shoulder if he ever teased
her about it. He couldn't ever remember seeing her in a dress before or even with
her hair down. The blondish-red waves made her look even more like her mom. He decided
she looked pretty.