Forty-one
At twenty minutes to five Friday afternoon Rachel’s mom pulled up to the house for the retreat. She climbed out of her car and adjusted the winter white pantsuit she was wearing. Rachel looked down at her nice jeans, camisole and jacket. Maybe she should change before she went.
“Ready to go?” Her mom scanned Rachel’s outfit quickly as soon as she came in the house.
“Yes, but, well I’ve been thinking that…”
“You’re still going aren’t you Rachel?”
“Of course, I have my suitcase. I thought I’d come back tomorrow morning. I don’t know if I want to be there for that whole thing.”
“Saturday’s so much fun. We have a nice breakfast and there are quite a few speakers. You should stay.”
“Mom, I’m really only going to hear Carol Adnaw speak.”
“She’s giving a talk just before lunch on Saturday too.”
“I thought she was talking tonight.”
“She is. She’s speakin’ both days. She couldn’t fit everything in she wanted to share on Friday so we rearranged things to give her about forty-five minutes on Saturday morning too.”
She’d have to sit through two hours of church talk to hear Carol Adnaw Saturday morning “Let’s take two cars and I’ll decide when I get there if I want to come back Saturday morning or if I’ll stay to the end.”“
That’ll work out just fine.” Her mom reached for the suitcase. Rachel grabbed her other bag. “What’s going on with Adam?”
Her mom’s face soured. “I’m not sure. I know he’s spent a good deal of time with Yvonne on the TDD but he ain’t tellin’ me bout what they’re sayin’.”
“So is he going back to California?”
“Now I just told you, don’t know. What you gonna go asking me for again.” Her mom walked out the back door with Rachel’s suitcase. She’d have to talk to Adam directly, when mom wasn’t there to watch what they were talking about.
“I can’t wait to hear Carol Adnaw speak. Do you think she’ll take time after to talk to people. I’d really love to spend some time learning from her.” How her mom’s church had managed to snag such a well-known speaker still surprised Rachel.
“Oh I hear she is wonderful.” Her mom left the suitcase next to Rachel’s car.
“Mom, I’m going back in to check the house.”
Mom waved her away. Rachel rechecked the front door and windows. “I’ve got the lights down here on a timer.” She scanned the room. “Feels like I’m forgetting something.” She stood a few moments. Then since she couldn’t think of anything she locked the back door and then stopped by her mother’s car, peering in the window. “So, how do I get to this place?”
“Let me look.” Her mom reached in the passenger door. She scanned a light blue piece of paper with a photocopied map and scribbled handwriting on it. It should be okay.
Rachel got into her car, and watched as her mother backed out. She started her motor and eased into the street. She wasn’t quite sure what to expect at a women’s retreat. She had images of either older women with casserole dishes eating or swapping recipes. Or she could see a roomful of women who got as wound up as her mom sometimes hanging from the chandeliers.
Despite some jitters, given her past experience with religion, she was really starting to look forward to the weekend with the ladies. The Fratboy wasn’t going to find her this weekend. That was one incentive to be at the retreat. There she was going to be surrounded by other women nestled back in a woods down a hard to find street at the back of a park.
It was a place you only knew how to find if you were there. Even though Carol Adnaw was the invited speaker and even though she was a very famous business woman her mom’s church had only done word of mouth advertising. Her mom said it was to keep it focused on God and finding him rather than personalities.
Traffic wasn’t bad at all for a Friday afternoon. Most of it was cleared up or heading out of town rather than toward it. There was a bit more traffic as they approached Triangle park. Must have been little league that night. Rachel always thought it was called Triangle park because of the many baseball fields. Her dad had laughed when she told him.
“They’re ball diamonds, not triangles.” He’d said as he laughed so hard he had tears in his eyes. When he had finally been able to stop laughing he’d told her the park got its name from the two rivers on either side of the park making it look like a triangle.
Most of the downtown area of Woodhaven was run down. People were moving to the edge of town or to the homes near the university. The park had been the exception. It was a remarkably well-kept park being so close to the downtown. The park drew both city-dwellers and suburbanites for the walking trails and ball games.
She turned to follow the jog in the road that led the last stretch to the lodge they were staying in. Her stomach tightened when she saw a sign that pointed to the lodge. It would be fine. There’s no reason to be nervous. She was here to learn from a top executive woman. Church really couldn’t get much easier than that.
Nate had started with a retreat in college. A men’s retreat as she recalled. In fact, he went there a few weeks after their engagement. They had just moved in together and Rachel was living the dream.
“I hate staying alone in our new house. Can’t you go to the retreat next year after our wedding.” She spun the half-carat solitaire back and forth on her finger. “I’ll be lonely without you.”
Nate folded a shirt and placed it in his overnight bag. “I’ll be home tomorrow night, Rachel.” He pulled her close to him. “You deserve the best husband.” He paused to kiss her. “These men, they are going to show me how to do that.”
“But when did you start going to those meetings?” They had attended her parents’ church from time to time but neither of them considered themselves religious. Then he was approached in the student union by a classmate and three other men. They promised him they could show him fulfillment the world couldn’t offer. She never stayed the living room when they came over, which had now become nearly every night.
Now they were taking Nate with them.
“Rachel, don’t worry. It is one night. We have our whole lives to live together.” He zipped his suitcase and kissed her. “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow night.”
“You’d better.”
He lifted his keys off the hook and put his bag down. Rachel followed him to the front door. “I love you, Rachel.”
“I love you too Nate.”
He kissed her and walked out the door. She walked to the window and watched him get in the car with the other three men. She waved down at Nate. He smiled, waved back then climbed in the back seat. A man climbed in on either side of him in the backseat.
She sat down to look at her bridal magazines. They were only twenty and the wedding couldn’t be extravagant but she’d love Nate since they met in high school. For three years they were best friends and the first time she…well it was with Nate.
She fell asleep that night on the couch. The next morning she woke to pounding on her front door. The clock said it was six-thirty. She stumbled to the door. The men were standing there.
“Nate has joined the community.”
“What?” She said, still groggy.
“We have come to pick up a few of Nate’s things.”
“He’ll be back tonight.”
“No.” The larger of the three said, the one she disliked the most. “He has joined the community. He is no longer connected to this world or the lusts of the flesh.”
“We’re getting married.” She looked between the three of them. Their faces like stone.
“No, Nate is married to the church now. He is a part of the community and he’s committed his life and worldly possessions to the creator.”
Bad memories. Rachel snapped back and followed her mom in to the parking lot adjacent to the lodge. She pulled her car in next to her mom and climbed out.
“Should I bring everything in now or come back for it.”
“Go ahead and bring it. I’m getting mine.” She hoisted her bag on her shoulder. Rachel nodded and pulled her suitcase out of the trunk of her car and followed her mom up the walk. A woman, likely in her mid-fifties, met them on the sidewalk. Her hair was shoulder length blond and she was dressed more like Rachel in jeans and a nice top. It made Rachel feel a bit less self-conscious about her outfit choices. “Lisa, so good to see you.” They hugged. “You are awful dressed up for this aren’t you?” The woman leaned to Rachel. “Wouldn’t you say so.”
“Yep. I think jeans are the way to go.” Rachel nodded as she answered.
“No matter. Your mom’s always overdressing for these events.”
“Well, what else I got to dress up for?”
The two of them began chatting about what Lisa needed to do to help set up. Rachel followed her mom up the sidewalk to the lodge. Inside the front door a young woman who looked to be around Rachel’s age sat at a rectangular folding table. There was a white plastic tablecloth on top with sheets of names taped to it. Voices echoed from every direction with people smiling and nodding in various conversations.
Her mom walked around the woman to the table while Rachel tried to figure out where to sign up. “Janice, this is my daughter Rachel.”
“So this is your daughter Rachel.” The woman turned to face her. “I’ve heard so much about you. You run a business don’t you?”
“Yes, a marketing company.” Rachel smiled and shifted her bags to her left hand and shook the woman’s hand.
“You coming to see our guest speaker?”
“Carol Adnaw? Absolutely. She’s top of her game. There’s a lot of women who could learn from her example.”
The woman smiled warmly. “I’m sure there is. I hope you get a lot out of her talk.” Rachel returned the smile. Rachel looked back at her name tag to remind herself of the woman’s name. She had been distracted by everything but should have paid better attention.
Next a woman with a clipboard appeared from behind them. “Oh good Lisa. You’re here. We’ve go the two of you in the room down this hall.” The woman took Rachel’s mom by the arm and led her past a couple of plain doors and in to an equally plain room.
The woman with the clipboard crinkled her nose. “Sorry they’re pretty bland. Everything in here is beige but the place offered us a great deal, and everything is clean, so we took it.” She smiled and lowered her voice a touch. “I think next year we’ll do it at the hotel we talked about. I was so embarrassed when we came in to set up this morning.” Then raising her voice again “The common areas are quite nice.”
Rachel and her mom set their things down on the beds. “I’m going to go look around.” Rachel called back.
“Fine honey. We’ll run into each other I’m sure.”
Rachel walked back out to the table with the long list of names.
“Hi my name is Rachel.” She scanned down the page and pointed herself out.
“Wonderful. You’re in group one.” The woman traced over Rachel’s name with a yellow highlighting pen. “Here is your nametag and folder. We’re starting at seven-thirty in that room right over there.” The woman pointed to the large living room a few feet away.
“Thank you.”
Rachel watched the women. Nearly all of them knew the other. She smiled and nodded at the few who managed to make eye contact.
“I see you’re in group one too.” Rachel spun around again and was face to face with Carol Adnaw.
“Yes, I am.” This time she had a genuine smile. “My name’s Rachel.”
“Carol.”
They shook hands.
“I’m so happy to finally meet you.” Rachel resisted the urge to gush about everything she’d ever read by or about her.
“Well thank you. God has blessed me.”
God. For a moment Rachel had forgotten she was at a church thing. Carol Adnaw was there but this was about church and God stuff too.
Carol continued. “You’re the only person I’ve seen from group one so far besides me. Would you like to sit down with a cup of coffee?”
“Of course. That would be really nice. Wait here and I’ll be right back.”
Rachel wove back and forth between people and finally found her mom.
“Mom, I’ve found Carol Adnaw and she wants to have coffee. We’ll be right over there.” She pointed to the back of the common area.
“Great. I’ll find you in just a bit.” She turned back to the woman she was talking to then stopped. “Rachel, you’re going to need your bag.” She slid a canvas bag off of her arm and handed it to Rachel. Inside there was a folder, pen and what looked to be a few cosmetic samples.
A large group of women were milling around the registration table when Rachel got back.
“Was I gone that long?” She motioned to the group.
“No, there were two vans that unloaded and they all walked in together. Do you want to go over to the other room?” Carol motioned. There’s a fireplace in there.
Rachel nodded and led the way through a sea of round white tables full of women catching up and swapping stories. Her mom should be able to find her back here. They sat at an empty table.
“Carol, would you like some coffee?”
“Yes, please. Two sugars.”
She got the coffees and sat down across form Carol. “How is it you came to be the featured speaker at a church event?”
“My passion is helping women. There are some women who have no financial sense. For those women I love to share financial strategies that will help them be self-sufficient if they ever need to be. Some women need to remember that there is more to this life. That is what women retreats are for. It’s when women can reconnect.”
“Do you do many of them?”
“I try to do one about every month or every other month.”
“Do they pay well?” Rachel looked around at the room of a couple hundred women. What would cause a woman who filled conference halls to speak to such a small group?
“I think they do.” She smiled and blew on her coffee.
Obviously she wasn’t going to tell how well they paid. Rachel looked around and quickly added the number of women then multiplied it by the twenty dollar conference fee. At the most they’d collected about two thousand dollars. Hardly enough to pay a nationally recognized speaker.
Carol scooted forward in her chair then leaned her arms on the table. “How long have you gone to this church?”
“Oh, I’ve gone off and on for a few years now. My mom is pretty active and she told me about it.” It wasn’t a complete lie. She’d been to the church about three or four times a year since her mom and dad started there.
“You’re lucky to have the pastor you do. I’ve followed his ministry for a while.” Carol paused to blow on her coffee and sip slowly at it. “He’s a strong man in the Lord.”
“Yes he is.” It was all Rachel could think to say back. He was an okay preacher when she’d attended recently and had told Shannon as much.
“Excuse me, Carol?” A frail older woman broke into their conversation.
“Yes?” Carol smiled at the woman as if thrilled to see her.
“They wanted to have you come back to the green room with the other speakers for tonight.”
“Thank you. I’ll be right there.” The old woman walked away and Carol turned to Rachel.“Guess I’m on. If you’d be willing after the presentation tonight I’d love to continue our conversation.”“I’d like that. Thank you.”
“We’ll meet back here.” Carol picked up her Styrofoam cup of coffee and walked briskly to join up with the older woman. The two chattered away until they turned a corner and Rachel could no longer see them.
You are reading A Face in the Shadow by Tiffany Colter.
Tiffany is a writer, speaker and writing career coach. She is a frequent contributor to print and online publications in addition to her regular marketing blog at http://www.writingcareercoach.com/
Get each new chapter delivered to you by signing up for the Tiffany Colter Fiction Blog using the link on the right.
This story is copyright Tiffany Colter. 2007. It may not be copied, distributed, sold or included in any larger work without the expressed written permission of Tiffany Colter.
Bloggers may comment on or link to this blog from their own blog. To link directly to this posting click the title, then copy the address in the browser.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
A Face in the Shadow Part 2 Chapter 40
Forty
She hung up with the police department. What would she do now?
Was he out there when Curtis left?
She began to sob pulling doors closed as she walked down the hall. Did he follow Curtis home and what would he do to him? She wrapped her arms around her body and stood at the top of the steps. She had to move where he wouldn’t find her. Telecommuting from a home somewhere far from here wouldn’t be too bad with today’s technology. She was an owner. What could they say? No?
But Curtis.
She shook with sobs.
She stopped outside her bedroom door. “Leave me alone.” She screamed down her steps before she plopped down on the top step to cry. Nothing more could be done. The police had done what they could but they were never here when he left these flowers.
And what if he stopped?
Right now they came every week. Each week they came on a different day. This time they were only forty-eight hours apart. Did that mean he was coming? Did more roses mean she was safer.
Or closer to death.
“I don’t want to die.” She cried. Visions of her time with Curtis, family, friends and events in her life slid through her memory. Rather than flashing before her eyes her life was giving a goodbye tribute.
And there wasn’t much to see.
She had no kids, no husband and nothing other than a business and a few things to be sold.
“Here lies Rachel, she had a business and stuff.” She mumbled. It was a pathetic inscription for a tombstone but it was what she had. “Survived by a marketing firm and two parents. Estate auction Friday.” She choked out between sniffles. She didn’t have a cat, or a plant; she had no living thing to prove she had made a difference in this world at all.
She wiped her nose on the back of her hand but it was no longer sufficient to catch the flow of tears. She lumbered down the steps planting each foot hard. She pulled four or five tissues from the box and wiped her face off.
There was the rose.
It was on the floor by the front door where she had thrown it. Still waiting for her.
She hated that rose. It stole the joy of this evening. She marched over to it. Fear was replaced by rage. She snatched it up from the floor and headed in to the kitchen. The lid to the trashcan popped open when she stomped on the small pedal. She threw it in as hard as she could and spun. The lid plopped closed but it didn’t relieve her.
“I hate you.” She said and stomped on the trashcan pedal again. She stuck her arm inside. Something slimy and warm covered her fingers. She lifted the rose out its petals and her fingers covered with gravy.
“I…hate…you.” She spat as she tore the bloom off and ripped it into as many pieces as possible. Pain shot through her fingers when she tried to break the stem. She looked at the blood and scratches in her palm. A thorn was still lodged in her finger.
The pain felt good. It was a battle scar. Proof she was fighting and not laying down to die.
She wiped the thorns out with a swipe across her jean. The ribbon was undone so she tore it the rest of the way and slammed the stem then the ribbon in the trash.
She was a charging bull.
If she was going to die she would do it fighting.
She’d make her mark. Even if it was by taking her assassin with her.
You are reading A Face in the Shadow by Tiffany Colter.
Tiffany is a writer, speaker and writing career coach. She is a frequent contributor to print and online publications in addition to her regular marketing blog at http://www.writingcareercoach.com/
Get each new chapter delivered to you by signing up for the Tiffany Colter Fiction Blog using the link on the right.
This story is copyright Tiffany Colter. 2007. It may not be copied, distributed, sold or included in any larger work without the expressed written permission of Tiffany Colter.
Bloggers may comment on or link to this blog from their own blog. To link directly to this posting click the title, then copy the address in the browser.
She hung up with the police department. What would she do now?
Was he out there when Curtis left?
She began to sob pulling doors closed as she walked down the hall. Did he follow Curtis home and what would he do to him? She wrapped her arms around her body and stood at the top of the steps. She had to move where he wouldn’t find her. Telecommuting from a home somewhere far from here wouldn’t be too bad with today’s technology. She was an owner. What could they say? No?
But Curtis.
She shook with sobs.
She stopped outside her bedroom door. “Leave me alone.” She screamed down her steps before she plopped down on the top step to cry. Nothing more could be done. The police had done what they could but they were never here when he left these flowers.
And what if he stopped?
Right now they came every week. Each week they came on a different day. This time they were only forty-eight hours apart. Did that mean he was coming? Did more roses mean she was safer.
Or closer to death.
“I don’t want to die.” She cried. Visions of her time with Curtis, family, friends and events in her life slid through her memory. Rather than flashing before her eyes her life was giving a goodbye tribute.
And there wasn’t much to see.
She had no kids, no husband and nothing other than a business and a few things to be sold.
“Here lies Rachel, she had a business and stuff.” She mumbled. It was a pathetic inscription for a tombstone but it was what she had. “Survived by a marketing firm and two parents. Estate auction Friday.” She choked out between sniffles. She didn’t have a cat, or a plant; she had no living thing to prove she had made a difference in this world at all.
She wiped her nose on the back of her hand but it was no longer sufficient to catch the flow of tears. She lumbered down the steps planting each foot hard. She pulled four or five tissues from the box and wiped her face off.
There was the rose.
It was on the floor by the front door where she had thrown it. Still waiting for her.
She hated that rose. It stole the joy of this evening. She marched over to it. Fear was replaced by rage. She snatched it up from the floor and headed in to the kitchen. The lid to the trashcan popped open when she stomped on the small pedal. She threw it in as hard as she could and spun. The lid plopped closed but it didn’t relieve her.
“I hate you.” She said and stomped on the trashcan pedal again. She stuck her arm inside. Something slimy and warm covered her fingers. She lifted the rose out its petals and her fingers covered with gravy.
“I…hate…you.” She spat as she tore the bloom off and ripped it into as many pieces as possible. Pain shot through her fingers when she tried to break the stem. She looked at the blood and scratches in her palm. A thorn was still lodged in her finger.
The pain felt good. It was a battle scar. Proof she was fighting and not laying down to die.
She wiped the thorns out with a swipe across her jean. The ribbon was undone so she tore it the rest of the way and slammed the stem then the ribbon in the trash.
She was a charging bull.
If she was going to die she would do it fighting.
She’d make her mark. Even if it was by taking her assassin with her.
You are reading A Face in the Shadow by Tiffany Colter.
Tiffany is a writer, speaker and writing career coach. She is a frequent contributor to print and online publications in addition to her regular marketing blog at http://www.writingcareercoach.com/
Get each new chapter delivered to you by signing up for the Tiffany Colter Fiction Blog using the link on the right.
This story is copyright Tiffany Colter. 2007. It may not be copied, distributed, sold or included in any larger work without the expressed written permission of Tiffany Colter.
Bloggers may comment on or link to this blog from their own blog. To link directly to this posting click the title, then copy the address in the browser.
Friday, July 31, 2009
A Face in the Shadow Part 2 Chapter 39
Thirty-nine
“She’s ready to open to me. I should go now. Knock on her door and look at the surprise and love in her eyes.” He craned his neck back around to look at her house. How much longer could he stand the build-up of desire? He wanted to have her now. Four weeks had been an arbitrary number; there was no real need to suffer their love in silence.
He dangled the small round charm in front of his eyes. It glimmered in the light of the front porch light. Alpha Mu Epsilon.
“First comes love.” He looked at Rachel’s photo. Her face was criss-crossed with the shadow of the branches in the street light’s glow. So lovely with sweet innocence. But she would surrender to his touch when he revealed who he really was. She would run to him like she had run into her house tonight. Every woman before had surrendered. All of them were shy at first but when the moment of decision came they followed their hearts.
He touched her picture. “Let me tell you all about it. I’ll be your fantasy. I will step from the shadow. You will look at me and say ‘It was you all along.’ Then we’ll embrace.” He brought the photo to his lips and gently kissed it.
“Next, we will surrender ourselves to the desire burning inside of us.” He slid out of his hiding space. “Only four more ribbons are on the shelf.” He whispered facing her house. All the curtains were drawn now so he could safely cross the street.
He jogged across and walked straight to Guardian.
“That a good chew treat?” He said using his baby-dog voice. He rubbed Guardian on the head. “You take good care of her until tomorrow.” He rubbed Guardian one last time.
When he took Rachel for his own Guardian would come with him. A dog deserved a big yard in the country. Not that nasty little chain in the front yard. He would reward Guardian for his loyalty and his protection of Rachel.
Logan returned to his car and drove off. The next four ribbons were the most important. No more leaving them on the porch or the mailbox. They needed to be personal. Send her a message that would point to him.
“The last one I’ll give her personally.” He was 2/3 the way to that moment. He glanced in his mirrors side mirror and pulled on to the quiet street. He left his headlights on until he reached the end of the small block. The moon was nearly full in a cloudless sky so with the street lamps he had enough light to pull ahead discreetly.
The patrol car would be around again soon. He flipped on his lights. Almost immediately a car pulled out from behind him. He tried to maintain the calm. The road he was on led out of the neighborhood and in to the main driveway. He turned right down the side street. The other car followed.
Had he missed a patrol car? That was impossible unless he’d been spotted with Guardian. He calmly turned down one street then another. He should have gone to her tonight. Enough on Romance, it was time for culmination. They should have been together tonight when he was there with her. His timing was all off. Why had he left? She wanted him tonight. She would have given in? The lights got closer to him. He needed to keep his head about him. There was no way anyone saw him or what he’d done.
He slowed down to let the other car pass him. The car stayed on his bumper close enough for Logan to see past the headlights. There was a man in the front seat. Who was he? Logan looked back in time to crank the wheel and avoid hitting a parked car. The other car followed him still.
“Go around.” He hissed. No one was going to keep him from his precious Rachel. Logan reached under the seat of his car and felt around. His fingers latched on the rope and knife right away but the can of Mace was just beyond his reach. He sat up and slid the rope and knife on his floor mat then leaned down a second time. The little can of Mace rolled back and forth just at the edge of his grasp. He looked in his mirror and slammed on his breaks. The car behind him swerved then went around him. Logan bent down and grabbed the can of Mace that had been thrown forward and stuck it under his thigh.
The car that had pursued him continued on its path down the road before turning in a parking lot.
Alpha Mu Epsilon would always be rewarded. It was the way of the world.
You are reading A Face in the Shadow by Tiffany Colter.
Tiffany is a writer, speaker and writing career coach. She is a frequent contributor to print and online publications in addition to her regular marketing blog at http://www.writingcareercoach.com/
Get each new chapter delivered to you by signing up for the Tiffany Colter Fiction Blog using the link on the right.
This story is copyright Tiffany Colter. 2007. It may not be copied, distributed, sold or included in any larger work without the expressed written permission of Tiffany Colter.
Bloggers may comment on or link to this blog from their own blog. To link directly to this posting click the title, then copy the address in the browser.
“She’s ready to open to me. I should go now. Knock on her door and look at the surprise and love in her eyes.” He craned his neck back around to look at her house. How much longer could he stand the build-up of desire? He wanted to have her now. Four weeks had been an arbitrary number; there was no real need to suffer their love in silence.
He dangled the small round charm in front of his eyes. It glimmered in the light of the front porch light. Alpha Mu Epsilon.
“First comes love.” He looked at Rachel’s photo. Her face was criss-crossed with the shadow of the branches in the street light’s glow. So lovely with sweet innocence. But she would surrender to his touch when he revealed who he really was. She would run to him like she had run into her house tonight. Every woman before had surrendered. All of them were shy at first but when the moment of decision came they followed their hearts.
He touched her picture. “Let me tell you all about it. I’ll be your fantasy. I will step from the shadow. You will look at me and say ‘It was you all along.’ Then we’ll embrace.” He brought the photo to his lips and gently kissed it.
“Next, we will surrender ourselves to the desire burning inside of us.” He slid out of his hiding space. “Only four more ribbons are on the shelf.” He whispered facing her house. All the curtains were drawn now so he could safely cross the street.
He jogged across and walked straight to Guardian.
“That a good chew treat?” He said using his baby-dog voice. He rubbed Guardian on the head. “You take good care of her until tomorrow.” He rubbed Guardian one last time.
When he took Rachel for his own Guardian would come with him. A dog deserved a big yard in the country. Not that nasty little chain in the front yard. He would reward Guardian for his loyalty and his protection of Rachel.
Logan returned to his car and drove off. The next four ribbons were the most important. No more leaving them on the porch or the mailbox. They needed to be personal. Send her a message that would point to him.
“The last one I’ll give her personally.” He was 2/3 the way to that moment. He glanced in his mirrors side mirror and pulled on to the quiet street. He left his headlights on until he reached the end of the small block. The moon was nearly full in a cloudless sky so with the street lamps he had enough light to pull ahead discreetly.
The patrol car would be around again soon. He flipped on his lights. Almost immediately a car pulled out from behind him. He tried to maintain the calm. The road he was on led out of the neighborhood and in to the main driveway. He turned right down the side street. The other car followed.
Had he missed a patrol car? That was impossible unless he’d been spotted with Guardian. He calmly turned down one street then another. He should have gone to her tonight. Enough on Romance, it was time for culmination. They should have been together tonight when he was there with her. His timing was all off. Why had he left? She wanted him tonight. She would have given in? The lights got closer to him. He needed to keep his head about him. There was no way anyone saw him or what he’d done.
He slowed down to let the other car pass him. The car stayed on his bumper close enough for Logan to see past the headlights. There was a man in the front seat. Who was he? Logan looked back in time to crank the wheel and avoid hitting a parked car. The other car followed him still.
“Go around.” He hissed. No one was going to keep him from his precious Rachel. Logan reached under the seat of his car and felt around. His fingers latched on the rope and knife right away but the can of Mace was just beyond his reach. He sat up and slid the rope and knife on his floor mat then leaned down a second time. The little can of Mace rolled back and forth just at the edge of his grasp. He looked in his mirror and slammed on his breaks. The car behind him swerved then went around him. Logan bent down and grabbed the can of Mace that had been thrown forward and stuck it under his thigh.
The car that had pursued him continued on its path down the road before turning in a parking lot.
Alpha Mu Epsilon would always be rewarded. It was the way of the world.
You are reading A Face in the Shadow by Tiffany Colter.
Tiffany is a writer, speaker and writing career coach. She is a frequent contributor to print and online publications in addition to her regular marketing blog at http://www.writingcareercoach.com/
Get each new chapter delivered to you by signing up for the Tiffany Colter Fiction Blog using the link on the right.
This story is copyright Tiffany Colter. 2007. It may not be copied, distributed, sold or included in any larger work without the expressed written permission of Tiffany Colter.
Bloggers may comment on or link to this blog from their own blog. To link directly to this posting click the title, then copy the address in the browser.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
A Face in the Shadow Part 2 Chapter 38
Thirty-eight
She darted her hand in, grabbed the rose, threw the letter in the box and ran in the house in one lighting motion. Before the screen door could slam behind her this time she had the bolt, chain and wedge in their place. The rose was on the floor where she had thrown it when she ran in.
She cried. He had been here. Had he been watching her kissing Curtis on the couch? Was the rose to taunt her? Was he ever going to leave her alone? She slid down with her back to the door. The curtains were open, was he watching her now?
She crawled below the window-sill and grabbed the pull strings on the drapes. At least he wouldn’t see her. She continued to the second and third set of curtains then went to the kitchen to pull those. Outside something scratched across her driveway in the wind. She ran to the window over her sink closed and latched it. She scanned the room.
The door leading to the basement was cracked open few inches. She flipped on the light and crept down fear burning her skin and adrenaline pushing her forward. She never used the sliding door to the basement so she never checked it. She could call Curtis. He couldn’t be more than a mile or two away. She reached down. No cell phone. It was in her purse upstairs. She crept through the near empty basement. The furnace and a few stacks of boxes would be the only cover for an intruder. She peeked around those and saw nothing. The only other place would be behind the curtain for the basement’s sliding glass door.
She picked up a broken broom handle that she’d remembered was under the steps and crept forward. Something creaked and she stopped, holding her breath so she could listen for the slightest sound. Slowly she tiptoed closer to the curtain. It moved slightly and she caught a scream in her throat.
What she was doing was insanity. She looked back at the steps. It would make more sense to run upstairs and call the cops. She lifted the bat over her head and in a quick motion ripped the curtains back and swung the bat. The curtain rod gave way and crashed down on her. She screamed and ran up the steps never once looking back. She slammed the door shut and leaned against it.
Not a sound came from the basement. She waited then opened the door a crack. There was nothing. She bent over and looked in the basement. The curtains were in a pile with the rod but there was no sign anyone had been in that basement but her. A small bit of relief washed over her and she ran to the back door to double check its lock. When she was satisfied the kitchen was secure she moved to the second floor and checked every window.
He was close by but he wasn’t getting in.
Rachel dialed the police.
A man with a gruff voice answered the phone.
She identified herself, “I’ve found another rose.”
You are reading A Face in the Shadow by Tiffany Colter.
Tiffany is a writer, speaker and writing career coach. She is a frequent contributor to print and online publications in addition to her regular marketing blog at http://www.writingcareercoach.com/
Get each new chapter delivered to you by signing up for the Tiffany Colter Fiction Blog using the link on the right.
This story is copyright Tiffany Colter. 2007. It may not be copied, distributed, sold or included in any larger work without the expressed written permission of Tiffany Colter.
Bloggers may comment on or link to this blog from their own blog. To link directly to this posting click the title, then copy the address in the browser.
She darted her hand in, grabbed the rose, threw the letter in the box and ran in the house in one lighting motion. Before the screen door could slam behind her this time she had the bolt, chain and wedge in their place. The rose was on the floor where she had thrown it when she ran in.
She cried. He had been here. Had he been watching her kissing Curtis on the couch? Was the rose to taunt her? Was he ever going to leave her alone? She slid down with her back to the door. The curtains were open, was he watching her now?
She crawled below the window-sill and grabbed the pull strings on the drapes. At least he wouldn’t see her. She continued to the second and third set of curtains then went to the kitchen to pull those. Outside something scratched across her driveway in the wind. She ran to the window over her sink closed and latched it. She scanned the room.
The door leading to the basement was cracked open few inches. She flipped on the light and crept down fear burning her skin and adrenaline pushing her forward. She never used the sliding door to the basement so she never checked it. She could call Curtis. He couldn’t be more than a mile or two away. She reached down. No cell phone. It was in her purse upstairs. She crept through the near empty basement. The furnace and a few stacks of boxes would be the only cover for an intruder. She peeked around those and saw nothing. The only other place would be behind the curtain for the basement’s sliding glass door.
She picked up a broken broom handle that she’d remembered was under the steps and crept forward. Something creaked and she stopped, holding her breath so she could listen for the slightest sound. Slowly she tiptoed closer to the curtain. It moved slightly and she caught a scream in her throat.
What she was doing was insanity. She looked back at the steps. It would make more sense to run upstairs and call the cops. She lifted the bat over her head and in a quick motion ripped the curtains back and swung the bat. The curtain rod gave way and crashed down on her. She screamed and ran up the steps never once looking back. She slammed the door shut and leaned against it.
Not a sound came from the basement. She waited then opened the door a crack. There was nothing. She bent over and looked in the basement. The curtains were in a pile with the rod but there was no sign anyone had been in that basement but her. A small bit of relief washed over her and she ran to the back door to double check its lock. When she was satisfied the kitchen was secure she moved to the second floor and checked every window.
He was close by but he wasn’t getting in.
Rachel dialed the police.
A man with a gruff voice answered the phone.
She identified herself, “I’ve found another rose.”
You are reading A Face in the Shadow by Tiffany Colter.
Tiffany is a writer, speaker and writing career coach. She is a frequent contributor to print and online publications in addition to her regular marketing blog at http://www.writingcareercoach.com/
Get each new chapter delivered to you by signing up for the Tiffany Colter Fiction Blog using the link on the right.
This story is copyright Tiffany Colter. 2007. It may not be copied, distributed, sold or included in any larger work without the expressed written permission of Tiffany Colter.
Bloggers may comment on or link to this blog from their own blog. To link directly to this posting click the title, then copy the address in the browser.
Friday, July 24, 2009
A Face in the Shadow Part 2 Chapter 37
Thirty-seven
The lock on her front door clicked. She was coming out. What luck. Both that he was going to watch her and that he made it to his hiding place in time. It would be very disappointing if she ruined the fun by finding out it was him too early.
She came out the door and right to the mailbox. Heat surged through his body. Rachel going directly to his rose could only mean one thing. She was beginning to think like him. Their minds were meshing together as one. Like Adam and Eve, the first two perfect people.
“The symbol of our love.” Logan said so quietly he could only feel the vibrations in his throat. He was too close to say it any louder. Only twenty-five feet separated them at this moment. As if on cue Rachel snatched up the rose and flew in to her house.
“Yes, Rachel. It’s for you.” The branches moved in the breeze and he slid down into them to shield himself from the wind. In another couple of months this would no longer work as a hiding place. The branches would be too bare. He pulled a laminated photo out of his pocket. Much as he had tried to protect it the edges were bent and the plastic wasn’t as shiny as when he made it. So many nights of taking it out of his pocket and putting it back in. So they could be together always. Hers was the first face he saw in the morning and the last one at night.
You are reading A Face in the Shadow by Tiffany Colter.
Tiffany is a writer, speaker and writing career coach. She is a frequent contributor to print and online publications in addition to her regular marketing blog at http://www.writingcareercoach.com/
Get each new chapter delivered to you by signing up for the Tiffany Colter Fiction Blog using the link on the right.
This story is copyright Tiffany Colter. 2007. It may not be copied, distributed, sold or included in any larger work without the expressed written permission of Tiffany Colter.
Bloggers may comment on or link to this blog from their own blog. To link directly to this posting click the title, then copy the address in the browser.
The lock on her front door clicked. She was coming out. What luck. Both that he was going to watch her and that he made it to his hiding place in time. It would be very disappointing if she ruined the fun by finding out it was him too early.
She came out the door and right to the mailbox. Heat surged through his body. Rachel going directly to his rose could only mean one thing. She was beginning to think like him. Their minds were meshing together as one. Like Adam and Eve, the first two perfect people.
“The symbol of our love.” Logan said so quietly he could only feel the vibrations in his throat. He was too close to say it any louder. Only twenty-five feet separated them at this moment. As if on cue Rachel snatched up the rose and flew in to her house.
“Yes, Rachel. It’s for you.” The branches moved in the breeze and he slid down into them to shield himself from the wind. In another couple of months this would no longer work as a hiding place. The branches would be too bare. He pulled a laminated photo out of his pocket. Much as he had tried to protect it the edges were bent and the plastic wasn’t as shiny as when he made it. So many nights of taking it out of his pocket and putting it back in. So they could be together always. Hers was the first face he saw in the morning and the last one at night.
You are reading A Face in the Shadow by Tiffany Colter.
Tiffany is a writer, speaker and writing career coach. She is a frequent contributor to print and online publications in addition to her regular marketing blog at http://www.writingcareercoach.com/
Get each new chapter delivered to you by signing up for the Tiffany Colter Fiction Blog using the link on the right.
This story is copyright Tiffany Colter. 2007. It may not be copied, distributed, sold or included in any larger work without the expressed written permission of Tiffany Colter.
Bloggers may comment on or link to this blog from their own blog. To link directly to this posting click the title, then copy the address in the browser.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
A Face in the Shadow Part 2 Chapter 36
Thirty-six
She stepped in the back door and locked it. There was plenty of time to sort through the mail and handle a little paperwork for the office before bed. She opened the electric bill.
“I’m not home enough to pay this much for electricity.” The difference in her utility bill from a two-bedroom apartment to a three-bedroom house had put a bite in her fun money. She was due to have her roots touched up but they’d have to wait a couple more weeks. Money hadn’t been an issue before the house. She stacked the bills back into a pile and plopped them in the wire basket.
“They’re not going away.” She snatched them back up and went to her desk drawer to get her checkbook. She hadn’t seen a balance this low since she was in college. The electric bill was more than the insurance on her car was this month.
“What in the world?” Why was she getting a bill from Outdoorsman magazine?
“Wrong house.”
She picked up all the envelopes and walked to the front of the house. The sun was completely gone with the slightest bit of purple lingering above the trees. Houses had porch lights on and those that didn’t had their curtains drawn. Life in a fishbowl.
She unhooked the chain, turned the deadbolt, slid the wedge out from the bottom of the door and opened it. Her mailbox was a long rectangle against the house just outside her door. Usually she dropped her letters off at the big blue mailbox on the way to work. Too many people were getting things stolen, like their identity, from people invading mailboxes. She figured this should be safe.
She lifted the lid of the mailbox but was sideways and couldn’t keep it open and stick the letter out. She stepped down on the porch. The door clapped shut behind her. The breeze was cool this evening. It made her shiver. Twice she looked over her shoulder in the few seconds on the porch. Someone could slink out of the darkness and on to the porch before she knew they were there.
She lifted the lid and saw the rose almost immediately.
You are reading A Face in the Shadow by Tiffany Colter.
Tiffany is a writer, speaker and writing career coach. She is a frequent contributor to print and online publications in addition to her regular marketing blog at http://www.writingcareercoach.com/
Get each new chapter delivered to you by signing up for the Tiffany Colter Fiction Blog using the link on the right.
This story is copyright Tiffany Colter. 2007. It may not be copied, distributed, sold or included in any larger work without the expressed written permission of Tiffany Colter.
Bloggers may comment on or link to this blog from their own blog. To link directly to this posting click the title, then copy the address in the browser.
She stepped in the back door and locked it. There was plenty of time to sort through the mail and handle a little paperwork for the office before bed. She opened the electric bill.
“I’m not home enough to pay this much for electricity.” The difference in her utility bill from a two-bedroom apartment to a three-bedroom house had put a bite in her fun money. She was due to have her roots touched up but they’d have to wait a couple more weeks. Money hadn’t been an issue before the house. She stacked the bills back into a pile and plopped them in the wire basket.
“They’re not going away.” She snatched them back up and went to her desk drawer to get her checkbook. She hadn’t seen a balance this low since she was in college. The electric bill was more than the insurance on her car was this month.
“What in the world?” Why was she getting a bill from Outdoorsman magazine?
“Wrong house.”
She picked up all the envelopes and walked to the front of the house. The sun was completely gone with the slightest bit of purple lingering above the trees. Houses had porch lights on and those that didn’t had their curtains drawn. Life in a fishbowl.
She unhooked the chain, turned the deadbolt, slid the wedge out from the bottom of the door and opened it. Her mailbox was a long rectangle against the house just outside her door. Usually she dropped her letters off at the big blue mailbox on the way to work. Too many people were getting things stolen, like their identity, from people invading mailboxes. She figured this should be safe.
She lifted the lid of the mailbox but was sideways and couldn’t keep it open and stick the letter out. She stepped down on the porch. The door clapped shut behind her. The breeze was cool this evening. It made her shiver. Twice she looked over her shoulder in the few seconds on the porch. Someone could slink out of the darkness and on to the porch before she knew they were there.
She lifted the lid and saw the rose almost immediately.
You are reading A Face in the Shadow by Tiffany Colter.
Tiffany is a writer, speaker and writing career coach. She is a frequent contributor to print and online publications in addition to her regular marketing blog at http://www.writingcareercoach.com/
Get each new chapter delivered to you by signing up for the Tiffany Colter Fiction Blog using the link on the right.
This story is copyright Tiffany Colter. 2007. It may not be copied, distributed, sold or included in any larger work without the expressed written permission of Tiffany Colter.
Bloggers may comment on or link to this blog from their own blog. To link directly to this posting click the title, then copy the address in the browser.
Friday, July 17, 2009
A Face in the Shadow Part 2 Chapter 35
Thirty-five
Logan pulled his car to the curb at the end of the block. Rachel’s house was halfway back along the street. She couldn’t see him from here. A large blue spruce tree blocked the view. He sat for a minute, thinking about Rachel, his lovely Rachel, just a short distance away. She’d be going about her evening ritual, not dreaming he was here. He climbed out of his car and walked down the street toward her house. The sky had darkened and the evening air was cool and damp. The scent of her perfume lingered in his nostrils. He’d bought her brand and smelled it whenever he was lonely for her touch.
He looked around at the dark splotches that blanketed the neighborhood. The shadows formed when the street lights hit the trees. The sun was gone. “It’s shadow time.” He whispered. He crossed the street and walked on the sidewalk opposite her house. Today was a special day for the two of them. They had passed the two-month mark. He deserved a pat on the back for patience and spending so much time with her, thinking about her but still unable to satisfy his inner hunger.
“That’s what Alpha Mu Epsilon is all about.” He reached down to pet the dog in the yard down the street from Rachel. He’d given the dog the name “Guardian” since he would alert Logan to danger and because the dog guarded Rachel’s house from across the street.
“I got something for you tonight boy.” He stuck his hand in his jacket. Guardian walked as close to him as he could stretch. He whimpered and strained against the chain. Logan remained just out of reach until he’d found the treat in his coat pocket.“There you go boy.” He gave Guardian a pig’s ear dog chew. Guardian grabbed it greedily and plopped down on the grass a few feet away and chewed on it. He was a smart dog. He almost never barked at Logan anymore when he came. “That should hold you until tomorrow.”
It was getting late. He scanned the sidewalks. They were clear so he walked down past her house, double-backed then to her sidewalk. He had to hurry so he wouldn’t get caught. That would take the fun out of their game. He looked around one more time and zipped up her porch steps, slid the rose in her mailbox then retreated to his usual hiding place.
You are reading A Face in the Shadow by Tiffany Colter.
Tiffany is a writer, speaker and writing career coach. She is a frequent contributor to print and online publications in addition to her regular marketing blog at http://www.writingcareercoach.com/
Get each new chapter delivered to you by signing up for the Tiffany Colter Fiction Blog using the link on the right.
This story is copyright Tiffany Colter. 2007. It may not be copied, distributed, sold or included in any larger work without the expressed written permission of Tiffany Colter.
Bloggers may comment on or link to this blog from their own blog. To link directly to this posting click the title, then copy the address in the browser.
Logan pulled his car to the curb at the end of the block. Rachel’s house was halfway back along the street. She couldn’t see him from here. A large blue spruce tree blocked the view. He sat for a minute, thinking about Rachel, his lovely Rachel, just a short distance away. She’d be going about her evening ritual, not dreaming he was here. He climbed out of his car and walked down the street toward her house. The sky had darkened and the evening air was cool and damp. The scent of her perfume lingered in his nostrils. He’d bought her brand and smelled it whenever he was lonely for her touch.
He looked around at the dark splotches that blanketed the neighborhood. The shadows formed when the street lights hit the trees. The sun was gone. “It’s shadow time.” He whispered. He crossed the street and walked on the sidewalk opposite her house. Today was a special day for the two of them. They had passed the two-month mark. He deserved a pat on the back for patience and spending so much time with her, thinking about her but still unable to satisfy his inner hunger.
“That’s what Alpha Mu Epsilon is all about.” He reached down to pet the dog in the yard down the street from Rachel. He’d given the dog the name “Guardian” since he would alert Logan to danger and because the dog guarded Rachel’s house from across the street.
“I got something for you tonight boy.” He stuck his hand in his jacket. Guardian walked as close to him as he could stretch. He whimpered and strained against the chain. Logan remained just out of reach until he’d found the treat in his coat pocket.“There you go boy.” He gave Guardian a pig’s ear dog chew. Guardian grabbed it greedily and plopped down on the grass a few feet away and chewed on it. He was a smart dog. He almost never barked at Logan anymore when he came. “That should hold you until tomorrow.”
It was getting late. He scanned the sidewalks. They were clear so he walked down past her house, double-backed then to her sidewalk. He had to hurry so he wouldn’t get caught. That would take the fun out of their game. He looked around one more time and zipped up her porch steps, slid the rose in her mailbox then retreated to his usual hiding place.
You are reading A Face in the Shadow by Tiffany Colter.
Tiffany is a writer, speaker and writing career coach. She is a frequent contributor to print and online publications in addition to her regular marketing blog at http://www.writingcareercoach.com/
Get each new chapter delivered to you by signing up for the Tiffany Colter Fiction Blog using the link on the right.
This story is copyright Tiffany Colter. 2007. It may not be copied, distributed, sold or included in any larger work without the expressed written permission of Tiffany Colter.
Bloggers may comment on or link to this blog from their own blog. To link directly to this posting click the title, then copy the address in the browser.
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