The Portal ~ Large Print (22 page)

“I love you, sweetie. Forever and ever. Mister Vincent can’t hurt us anymore. Come back to me.”

Vivian stared at him as his blue eyes opened.

“Mommy.” He hugged her and began to cry. “I didn’t mean to let him in.”

“Oh God, sweetie.” She cradled him. Her chest felt like it would cave in. It was Cody. There was no doubt. “Shhh.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s not your fault, baby.” She kissed his forehead and cheeks. “I’m here now. Mommy’s here. It’s over.”

V
ivian held Cody’s
hand and exited through the side door of the stone church. Nothing could lift her mood today. Not the chirping birds on the crisp breeze, nor the laughter of children as they played on the church’s lawn.

Behind her a pipe organ began playing. The choir sang over wailing family members. There was no way she could have hung around after Erika’s service. Too much had happened. For now, in this moment, she just needed to get away.

At the base of the steps, Detective Torres leaned against the railing. For the last week, she’d managed to avoid him. From the look in his eye, she knew that wouldn’t be an option anymore. He walked up the stairs to them.

“I’m sorry to come here today,” he said. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you.”

“I know,” she said.

“We need to talk.”

“Are you a policeman?” Cody asked from behind her leg, and she realized that they had never really met.

“This is Detective Torres. He’s one of the good guys.” She tried to pull Cody from behind her, but he clung to her. “He’s a little shy today.”

“Do you have a gun to shoot bad guys?” Cody asked.

“Yes.” Torres kneeled next to him. “But I don’t like to use it unless I have to. I’d rather just put them in jail.”

Cody’s interest had waned at yes. He tried to pull his arm free.

“What?” she asked. He pointed to a fountain. Stone angels appeared to dance with each other in the center. Three other kids his age stood around it throwing coins in. “Baby, I think I’m ready to leave.”

“Please.” He stretched the word and bounced for effect.

“Five minutes,” she said. He pulled his arm free. “That suit is brand new. Do not get it wet.”

He was already across the grass before she finished. After everything he’d been through, she didn’t push.

“How’s he doing?” Torres asked.

“No symptoms or nightmares. Have you found Stromsky?”

“Every news station is running his police sketch.”

“What are we supposed to do until you find him?” she asked.

“Have you been watching television?”

She shook her head. She had tried the first day. The twenty-four hour news circus picked and pawed at the story. San Francisco had been the target of Chinese terrorists. The Avian Flu had mutated. A few geniuses predicted an impending alien invasion. As stupid as that sounded, it was probably the closest to the truth.

“I couldn’t take it,” she said.

“Stromsky’s on the top of our watch list. Besides, if he wanted to try anything, he would’ve already.”

“You’re probably right.” She prayed that was true. “Charlotte did hire him. And she just sent Cody and me a check. To keep our mouths shut, no doubt.”

“No strings attached?” he asked.

“There’s no such thing.” She smiled. “I tore up the check. You know, I never thanked you for clearing up those charges, and for everything else. It’s been a long time since I looked to the police for help.”

“Not a problem,” he said, “You can repay me by taking me to lunch. We need to talk.”

She knew what he wanted to discuss. Could it happen again?

Glancing over, she watched Cody lean over the rim of the fountain. With his suit coat on, he reached his whole arm into the water, fished something out, and threw it back in.

Torres chuckled, and she couldn’t help but laugh, too.

“I don’t have any answers for you,” she finally said. God, wasn’t that the truth? Did anyone? She loved Cody. She’d die for him. Maybe in the end, that’s all that mattered. “I wouldn’t worry though. We know how to send Mister Vincent back. Something tells me he won’t try anything in the near future.”

“What if he does, though?”

“Cody could’ve taken control at any time. He knows that now. He just didn’t know how to get back to me. Besides, next time, I’ll be ready.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I suppose you will be. Are you two going to be okay?”

She glanced over at Cody, who’d slapped the surface of the water with his open hand. He looked back at her and smiled. She thought of the road ahead, without the threat of Jarod and his family. They were free. What did that even mean? Where would they live now? She could work again. Cody would be in kindergarten next year.

“We’re going to be fine,” she said.

For the first time since she could remember, she began to hope.

This book, and my writing career, would not exist without one person in particular. Bonnie Hearn Hill, my friend and mentor, is a shining example to all artists of the possibilities when you live for your dreams.

Thank you for all that you’ve done for me.

In addition, I want to thank Hazel Dixon-Cooper, Dr. Dennis Lewis, and Ryan Booth for helping me hammer out THE PORTAL. Your brilli
ant insight has been invaluable.

Also, special thanks to Lauri Blasch for believing in this project and for her wonderful input, Faith Cominski for her fantastic eye, and everyone at Black Opal Books.

Genre:
PARNORMAL THRILLER

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, businesses, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only. The publisher does not have any control over or assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their contents.

THE PORTAL

Copyright ©
2011
by
Christopher Allan Poe

All Rights Reserved

Cover Design by
Christopher Allan Poe

C
opyright ©
2011 All Rights Reserved
eBook ISBN: 978-1-937329-12-9

First Publication: OCTOBER 11, 2011

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