ROMANTIC SUSPENSE : DEATH WHISPERED SOFTLY (2 page)

    She was also tickled by his child like antics when he had the occasional drink! Everything about Sherman Kingsbury seemed to be picture perfect in the eyes of his loving and devoted daughter.  The man seemed to overflow with wisdom and knowledge, and shared it generously with his appreciative daughter. Sherman Kingsbury was thus not only Grace’s father but he was her hero and best friend as well. Grace felt horribly alone, now that he was gone.  “How can I deal with life without him?” She pondered broken-heartedly. “There is no one to teach me; none to hold my hands in my grief and loss, and no one to comfort me”

Although Grace was a competent businessperson herself, she had great trouble coping with her father’s death. Although she was not shattered, she
was
considerably shaken up by his death. It sent her into the pits of melancholy. And within a month of his death, Grace found herself struggling with grief and despair. It wasn’t long before she fell into the depths of depression that threatened to uproot her life, and the business, which her father had so painstakingly built.

But in spite of her circumstances, the brave girl was acutely aware that she would deeply disappoint her father—wherever he was—if she let his legacy, his business crumble.  And she was determined not to let her father down. This determination, arising out of her love for her father, enabled her to manage the business…his business, which bonded them together and keep it going. 

Although surrounded by the demands of the business she found herself falling deeper into the deafening silence that was her life. She started cutting down her hours at the office and was now spending more and more time alone, consumed with the memories of her father and mother, thoughts that brought her great joy and deep pain.

She was quite bewildered how God (or was it fate?) could possibly have been so cruel to take away the two persons she loved with all her heart and soul, and who mattered to her the most.

    She remembered that her father had taught her (and kept reminding her consistently) that the only way one could be competitive and successful in life was by being
tough, practical and prudent
. He had taught Grace that although emotions were a fine trait of the human race, it were (negative) emotions, like fear, pride, anger, hatred, greed,  jealousy,  which caused the downfall of many a man. “If one wants to be successful, one has to elect prudence, practicality, and diligence over sentiments and feelings.” “Emotions are the greatest enemy of profit and success my child” her father would reiterate from time to time, as if he had a premonition,  that something would happen to him, leaving his daughter alone to face the unkind and unforgiving world– all by herself.

In these moments of profound emotional upheaval, Grace remembered her father’s words affectionately and tried her best to live by prudence and level-headedness—as her father would want her to—rather than allowing the emotions of grief, loneliness, and bitterness to inundate her life.

But hard as she tried, Grace struggled with her emotions and she couldn’t completely overcome her loneliness. She longed more and more for the love and company of a man, the man she had dreamed of so often, her prince charming. The success, the wealth, the power—that came with a business empire— was unable to fill the void felt in her heart and in her life.

How could she cope with her wretched lonesomeness, she would ponder. She tried many things to dilute her sorrows and reduce her emptiness, but nothing worked well enough. None
except
one…

Grace sought the comfort and sanctuary of one of her company’s Cafes situated in a deserted part of the city, where there was hardly anybody after nine pm.  She frequented this café each evening after ten pm. After a long and arduous day’s work, Grace found refuge in this lonely café – away from the hustle and bustle of the city.  She found relief and solace from her emotional torment,  as she played the piano placed in the corner of the café, for hours and hours, over five or six cups of coffee, and couple of brandy shots,  until she was too tired to play. The music would somehow envelop her troubles and help her forget her grief.

She would then pick her fatigued self-up and drive home, which was ten miles away, get into bed and fall into a deep sleep—caused by sheer exhaustion.

Grace was extremely grateful to her father for according her everything: love, education, wisdom, business and mentoring.  But she had no idea it would be this lonely café situated in a sleepy part of the city that would one day become her sanctuary and save her life…literally. 

Ironically, when her father had decided to open a café at this deserted place, it was Grace who had passionately tried to dissuade her father from opening the café in this part of town. It was located in a deserted area and one could hardly spot a soul on the street after nine pm. “Who will come to this desolate café?” she would ask her father.  But stubborn as he was, he somehow felt that it had promise and obdurately stuck to his decision assuring her “My daughter you may not see it today, but someday you will realize how profitable it was to set up this café. One of these days it will prove to be more treasurable than some of the other cafes we own. “When you establish a business, you don’t just look at the present Grace, but you also look at the future—and I see a good future here” he would affectionately say.

    With a wry smile Grace realized how prophetic those words had proved to be. Indeed in these moments of grief and despair, this little café had become more precious to her than any other thing in the world. “Daddy did you know this too?”  Grace would ask her father, looking up at the night’s sky blanketed with stars—here she felt closeness to him.

The café had become her haven, a place where Grace would find relief from her grief and loneliness.  Although the Café was helping her enormously in diminishing her pain, she was overlooking one simple, but an exceedingly important dynamic, something that she would surely never have, had her father been alive.

That by staying put at the Cafe until the wee morning hours at the secluded café, every single day
she was setting herself as an easy target for someone who did not exactly “want coffee”.
  

Her months of undeniable loneliness were so intense, that it had obscured her sense of alertness and caution.   She failed to realize that it would be rather unproblematic for someone who didn’t like her, wanted money, or worse... want her, to walk in at that time of the night
and accost her;  knowing fully well she would be there, all alone, vulnerable, playing piano, lost to the world in her thoughts.

But did the soft spoken, tender-hearted Grace, have any enemies at all? Not that
she
knew of. But did she?

Completely ignorant of
someone
who despised her existence, she continued to spend each evening at her favorite café playing piano for hours.   She had no idea that while she was playing her piano thru the dead of the night in her café, in a room not too far off, sat a man on his revolving chair, planning to murder her; a perfect murder which no one would be able to pin on him. 

Rings of smoke filled the air as Gustav Nilsson, son of Sherman Kingsbury’s friend, confidante, and a minor business partner, Ian Nilsson, went through his plan of murdering Grace Kingsbury, examining every detail of the plan microscopically. Gustav Nilsson knew that one small mistake could lead to his own destruction. The planning, as well as the execution, had to be utterly flawless. After considering his plan for a long time, he concluded it was indeed perfect and an evil grin lit up his repulsive face. 

CHAPTER III

    Steve Neal’s past could not elude him.  He was a convict.  He had spent five of his twenty eight years in prison. If one were to look at Steve Neal, it would be impossible to guess this six foot tall, ruggedly handsome man with neatly cropped light brown hair, and friendly blue eyes, could be a felon. But Steve
was
a felon, who had been to prison three times in the past seven years, for charges ranging from assault to petty theft. Steve was lucky that his age and good looks had helped him get away with lesser sentences else he might easily have spent several more years in prison.

But Steve was not remorseful of his transgressions, nor was he grateful to the judges/ juries for handing him lesser sentences than he obviously deserved. He believed whatever people did, was for their own selfish reasons. One could say Steve was a bitter person.  And the reason for this bitterness lay in the incidents befallen in his past.

Steve was barely five years old when he had lost his mother and father in a deadly plane crash. His father was a professor at the local community college while his mother was manager of the local grocery store, and a Sunday school teacher.  Steve’s parents were simple church going people who were well liked by their friends, members of their church, and the community of the little town in Indiana that they lived in. 

When Steve was barely five years old, his parents decided to visit Ireland. They had worked hard the whole year to save money for a summer vacation in Ireland. Something they had dreamed of for a long time. Little did they realize that all the money they would carefully save each month, would buy tickets to their demise. The flight, they were travelling in, fell victim to a freak, but deadly thunderstorm, transforming a joyous and exciting day, into a shocking tragedy.

The plane carrying 189 passengers, including Steve’s parents, plunged to the ground, minutes before reaching the landing destination. Not one passenger or crew member survived—so great and destructive was the impact, when the plane crashed into the field just miles before the landing strip.

    Prior to taking the star-crossed flight, Steve’s parents had chosen to leave him behind in the care of their kindly neighbors. They felt that Steve was way too young to enjoy a trip abroad, especially since it involved a grueling ten hour flight. The hard working couple badly needed a vacation, and they felt it was in the best interest of everyone—including young Steve’s—to stay home with their neighbors, who were also avid members of their church. They had entrusted Steve’s care with them as they had few times before.  Little did they know what was in store for them or their beloved son.

The crash proved to be brutal in more than one sense. Steve’s life was abruptly turned upside down, orphaned by a cruel stroke of fate and Mother Nature’s fury.

And although Steve was too young to fully comprehend the magnitude of the tragedy, when it occurred, the innocent lad had to suffer the grave and extensive consequences of it.  A month or so after the death of his parents, the neighbors, in whose care Steve was living, decided they couldn’t keep him forever and handed him over to the “
system”.
Soon Steve was sent off to live with foster parents.

His foster parents were nothing like Steve’s affectionate parents who doted on their only child. They were cruel individuals, especially the foster mom, who was especially unkind, even vicious, to young Steve. The couple had adopted Steve with the sole purpose of using him as a ploy for getting a fat monthly check from the county each month—in lieu of providing care.  Beyond being a meal ticket Steve meant nothing to them. It was Ironic that they were harsh and callous to young Steve, whose very presence in their house made it possible for them to live a comfortable life without having to work.

Their cruelty and indifference made Steve’s life utterly miserable. He soon became a recluse and an introvert. But the tender-hearted, love starved child   refused to give up on his foster parents  and tried his utmost for ten long years to be a nice and respectful son to them, that he may win their hearts and approval and even more importantly, their love. For the boy was simply starving for love.

But in spite of all his efforts to win their love, he failed to earn their love or affection or even attention.  Each time he tried to get close to them, he was rudely reminded how utterly insensitive, greedy, and cruel his foster-parents were. They cared as much for Steve as an aging widow cared about her looks… perhaps less.

    By the time Steve turned fifteen, he had not only grown tired and frustrated with them but began to despise and hate them with all his heart and soul. Their cruelty and nastiness had changed Steve. On the one hand it turned him into a bitter recluse, with barely any friends while on the other hand, their wickedness had caused Steve to become a very tough individual - insensitive to cruelty. He knew that if he didn’t toughen up, and become thick-skinned, he would surely crack under the enormous pressure created by his foster parents’ malevolence. Becoming hard and tough was the only way to survive, in that oppressive environment --- in that miserable place called home.   Steve chose what had to be, if he was to make a break and survive alone he will need to be tough.  He increasingly detested his miserable life in
their
house. He wanted out, and he wanted revenge. He decided it was time to pay them back for what they had done to him, and what he had to endure the past ten years.

Steve knew how greedy his foster-parents were. He decided that the best way to exact revenge would be to make sure they stop getting the monthly payments they were receiving from the county. He knew that if it was discovered that he had disappeared from their house, the county would stop sending the money to them, and this would in turn deal a hard blow to his foster-parents who were avaricious beyond words and totally useless. The thought of going back to work to support themselves would throw them into a well-deserved panic and frenzy—for they had become disgustingly indolent and slothful.