The Darkness of Shadows (2 page)

My clothes were sticking to me like day-old wet newspaper, but other than that I was great.

“Fine, thank you, ma’am. How are you? How’s Mr. Edwards?”

“Oh, Bob is good. Thank you for asking! We have a golf lesson at five. I really wish you’d call me Tara.” She indicated for me to sit. “Ma’am makes me feel so old!”

“Sorry, ma’am, old habits and all.”

“We haven’t seen you at the driving range at all this summer.”

“Maybe in the fall, when it cools down some.” I liked going to the range to hit a bucket of balls. No one bothered me and I didn’t have to chase after a bad shot.

She opened the cooler. It was full of little plastic containers packed with healthy-looking contents, lined up and ready for assembly.

“Would you care to join me?” She unfastened the lid of one.

What the hell was that? It reeked! “No, thank you.”

“Well, if you’re sure.” She frowned as she continued to gather the stinky stuff that was her lunch. “So why are you selling your business? You love it. You’ve got a great client base and it’s very profitable. I don’t understand.”

“Just time to move on.”

She looked at me for a moment, then pulled a file from her briefcase.

“I also drew up the will you requested.”

I may be crazy, but I’m also a realist. I needed everything in order, just in case my scheme went further south than the Sunshine State.

Meetings aren’t one of my favorite things, but in business they’re a necessary evil. This one went smooth enough. A few signatures later and I was in the money and out of the dessert business. The good-looking blond guys were still sitting on the bench across from us. Maybe it was my imagination, but they seemed to be staring right at us. Of course, it was hard to tell, what with the sunglasses.

“Ma’am, I mean, Mrs. Edwards, do you know those guys over there?” I nodded in their direction.

“No, I don’t.” An impish grin appeared. “Maybe they’re interested in talking to you.”

“Maybe they’re scouts from
Next Top Supermodel: Chicks with Canes
.”

“Oh, Natalie!” She let out a dramatic sigh. “You’re a very attractive young woman—”

“Uh huh. Are we all set?”

“I think that’s everything.”

“I have something for you. Would you mind walking with me to get it?”

She smiled. “You made my favorite brownies, didn’t you?”

I retrieved the tray of dark chocolate macadamia nut brownies with toasted coconut from the truck.

“Thank you for your time, ma’am,” I said. “I really appreciate all your help through the years.”

She gave me another long, thoughtful look.

“Is there something that you need to talk about? You know it goes no further than me—”

“No, ma’am. I just appreciate that you and Mr. Edwards always treated me good, no matter what other people said.” I glanced at my watch. “Hey, you’ve got your golf lesson.”

Tara reached for my arm. I stepped back toward the truck. She frowned.

“We’ve known each other for quite some time now. I know you’re an extremely private person, but—”

“I’m fine. I need to get a move on, going to Mrs. Guerrero’s.”

“Well, I’m here if you need to talk.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

I got home, showered, and changed in record time, then raked my fingers through my short, brown hair and decided I was ready. Damn, I’m good.

In my backpack was my gift for Val. It was the bracelet my grandparents gave me when I was a kid, along with a note from them that said they loved me and were sorry they couldn’t see me. I never wore it though. My parents didn’t let me accept gifts from anyone, so I hid it. It was in the same simple box that it came in a lifetime ago. It wasn’t fancy or anything, just silver strands braided and knotted in four places, but it was something Val had always admired. I didn’t know what else to get her—she was hard to buy presents for. She always said she didn’t need or want anything, just like her mom did.

Outside, I could smell all sorts of dead things searing on backyard grills. The smoke danced and swirled and disappeared into the sultry air. I preferred the smells of autumn: tomato sauces, stews, and the heartier fare that brought the promise of cooler weather.

I made it with five minutes to spare before I was officially late. Did I mention that damn, I’m good? I parked behind Val’s new Mercedes sedan, as sleek and cool as she was. Tina, Val’s younger sister, blocked the rest of the driveway with her BMW. I groaned at the thought of having to spend time with Tina, but I could suck it up for a few hours.

I gathered my gear and ventured up the driveway. My cane made a clicking sound on the pavement. A dribble of sweat started to make its way down my neck. Almost there.

The kitchen door opened and Val stepped out.

Val and I had a few things in common. We were both women, were thirty-two years old, owned our own businesses, and shared the same birthday (March 5). That’s where the similarities ended.

She moved with the grace of an athlete. I moved with the grace of the oldest resident of an assisted-living facility. I was a little bit over six feet tall and weighed in at more than I should—I wish I could say it was all sinewy muscle, but that would be a big fat lie. I’d inherited my parents’ long, angular features, but I was pretty average looking sans the scar and the limp.

Val was a knockout. She was five feet eight inches tall, a practitioner of Krav Maga, which suited her athleticism and kept her in great shape. Her caramel skin was flawless, and she had her dad’s eyes: dark chocolate flecked with gold. A petite nose complemented great bone structure from both her parents. I didn’t pay much attention to fashion, but I knew her clothes were expensive. She was between boyfriends at the moment, and that meant she was working way too hard—Val never had a shortage of guys trailing after her, but she’d gotten more cautious as we got older.

“Need some help?” she said.

“Hey, little sister.” I handed her the desserts.

“Get inside—it’s hotter than hell out here.”

Mrs. Guerrero had impeccable taste. The house, a two-story colonial with an influence of country traditional, managed to hit that near-impossible line between classy and comfortable. It wasn’t like you were afraid to touch anything or sit on the furniture—it was her home and you could feel the love within it.

“Natalie!” She greeted me with a hug.

I towered over her like a sequoia over a delicate bonsai. Mrs. Rita Guerrero stood an amazing five feet two and one-half inches tall. Her brown eyes teemed with life and, I always imagined, a little mischief. Nearly black hair looked like some impressionist’s brush had swirled in a just a bit of gray. An elegant, classy lady was she.

“Ma’am, thank you for inviting me to dinner.” I handed her the bouquet of wildflowers.

“Oh, they are beautiful!” Mrs. Guerrero never met a contraction she liked. “Thank you!”

Val’s little sister, Tina, was leaning across the counter by the sink. She was a beauty in her own right, and she favored her mother more than her dad. She glared at me as I limped past her. The only thing average about her was her height, about five feet six inches, and she was too thin in my opinion.

Sitting on the kitchen table was Tina’s gift to Val, a distinctive blue box from you-know-where. I decided against giving Val my gift for the time being.

We ate in the formal dining room. Dinner, as always, was excellent. Mrs. Guerrero said, “Age quod agis—Do well what you do.” And she did everything well, but cooking—she had a gift. Too bad my migraine had robbed me of my appetite. I was hoping she wouldn’t notice. While Val and Tina were in the kitchen getting dessert, Mrs. G and I chitchatted.

Mrs. Guerrero said, “Do you have something that you would like to share with me?”

“Ma’am?”

“The other evening, at Valerie’s awards ceremony, you did not come over to say hello.” Her eyes sambaed with delight—just teasing. “I felt slighted.”

“Um … I’m sorry … I ah, just went to see Val get her award and left. I had to iron out a dessert gig.”

“It meant a great deal to Valerie for you to be there.”

“Val saw me too?” Good thing I never wanted to be a spy. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.”

Val and Tina returned and placed the desserts in front of us.

“This looks great!” Val said. “Thanks, Nat.”

“That reminds me,” Tina said. “We’re doing a feature on weight-loss programs for the physically challenged.” She glanced at me. “I’ll send you a copy.”

Let the steel cage match begin.

Val looked like she was going to leap across the table, but I knew Tina was just warming up. Mrs. Guerrero, as always, feigned oblivion. Maybe she figured if she ignored Tina’s bad attitude, it’d go away.

“Tina …” Val said.

“Just making conversation.” Tina smiled and dug into her dessert. “We’re also doing a piece on plastic surgeons.”

I took a deep breath and refocused my rage. I reached for my cane on the floor next to my chair and stood. Val looked worried—maybe she thought she and her mom would be collateral damage when I lost my temper. I couldn’t blame her.

“Ma’am, thank you for dinner. Val, congratulations on your award,” I said.

“Please don’t leave,” Val said.

“Natalie, come with me,” Mrs. Guerrero said.

“Ma’am—”

“I insist.”

I hesitated, but followed after her. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Val heading for Tina.

Boy, can I clear a room or what?

Mrs. Guerrero led me to the kitchen, took my cane, and leaned it against the table. She took my hands in hers and looked up into my eyes.

“Ma’am, Tina was—” I said.

“There was no reason for that.”

It caught me off guard—sometimes she acknowledged Tina’s layered cruelty, but most times she didn’t.

“I’ve caused her a lot of grief,” I said. “She needs someone to hate and I’m …” I felt the first tear escape.

“Hush.” Mrs. G pulled me into a hug. She and Val were the only people I let touch me.

I try so hard to maintain a hardass image and now this.

“Let it out, honey.” She rocked me ever so gently. Her strength always amazed me. After a minute, her grip loosened.

“Tell me what is bothering you.”

“Nothing.”

“Natalie.” The Mom tone was clear. “You hardly touched your dinner. You have lost weight, you are not sleeping, and you have been avoiding me. Is there something I have done to upset you?” The last part was punctuated with a hurt tone.

“Hel—I mean, heck no! It’s just the migraines have been really bad lately.”

“I am sorry.” She frowned. “Perhaps it is time we find you another physician. They are always finding new ways to help people.”

I gave her a halfhearted smile. “Ma’am, sometimes you have to accept the reality in front of you and move on.”

She gave me the once-over, and I squirmed. Mrs. Guerrero was a human lie detector. It was one of the things that made her a great prosecutor.

“What is going on?” she said. “This is not about your headaches or Augustina.”

“I’m wiped out is all.” I grabbed a tissue from the counter.

“Natalie.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Please stop by in the morning. We can talk more privately then.” She narrowed her eyes. “Promise me. No disappearing acts.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I reached for my backpack. “Would you do me a favor please?”

“Of course.”

I pulled out the wooden box. “Would you give this to Val for me?”

“I think you should give this to her yourself.”

“Please?”

She sighed and put the gift on the table. I grabbed my stuff and headed for the door.

“I will see you tomorrow.” It was more of a command than a statement.

“Yes, ma’am—thank you.”

I left the Guerrero kitchen and headed into the night.