Heart of Shadows Read online

  D.C. was tough for a slip of a girl who'd never been across the big bridge into Charleston. It was cold and impersonal. She found that her scholarship covered her books and tuition, even paid for some food and personal items. But there was never enough money left at the end of the month.

  She bought boots and gloves and a warm coat from the Salvation Army. A Congressional aide who liked to look at her breasts finally gave her a job. She fought through her classes and her loneliness in the chaotic city. She was living her dream.

  "Rae!” A friendly voice yelled her name, breaking her chain to the past. “How's Lessie?"

  "Fine when I left this morning.” Her old friend, Jean Davis, joined her. They walked down the street in companionable silence for a few minutes. “Was she in church tonight?"

  "No.” Jean's attractive dark face was worried. “That's why I was wondering. My mother was asking after her."

  "She must be sick if she didn't go to church."

  Jean worked at the diner down the street from Rae's shop. She was married for a while and lived in Charleston. She came back to the island with a daughter and a broken heart. “Mama said she saw her earlier today. She said she was in pain."

  "That wouldn't surprise me. Lessie would rather tell anyone but me when there's a problem.” Rae stopped with her friend at the front porch to her house on Spring Street.

  "Want me to come in with you?"

  "Maybe you should, Jean, thanks. If she needs help, you can talk to her and I can call the doctor."

  "Like she'd see him?"

  Rae pushed open the squeaky screen door. “Don't remind me."

  It was just a few weeks ago that Lessie confessed that she was feeling poorly. She didn't like to bother Rae with it but everything she ate was making her sick. None of her potions or herbs helped.

  Rae dragged her reluctant grandmother to the doctor. He was concerned enough to order tests. Lessie was suffering from a tumor the size of a tennis ball that was blocking her intestine. If it continued to grow, she wouldn't be able to eat at all. The doctor advised a surgery consultation. Lessie refused without considering it.

  Rae sat beside her grandmother on the bus going home and worried. Even if she could convince her grandmother to have the surgery, how would they afford it? There was no insurance. Her grandmother wasn't eligible for care from the government. She wasn't even sure how they were going to pay for the tests she had done. The doctor admitted that the surgery would be costly and the tumor could be more invasive than he thought. It was even possible that it was malignant.

  Rae's shop yielded enough to keep it going. Her grandmother owned the little house and land that had been in her family for ten generations. They got by on very little. There wasn't enough for anything out of the ordinary. Both women knew their position. They didn't talk about it on the short bus ride home. They both hoped that the doctor was wrong.

  "Lessie?” Rae called as she opened the screen door and walked into the house. She'd been born there, as had her mother and her grandmother. Three rooms upstairs with a tiny, makeshift bathroom. Four rooms downstairs with a kitchen that took up nearly the whole space.

  Rae walked through the kitchen. The dark was rich with the scents of herbs and grasses that she and her grandmother collected from the island. There were no lights on in the rest of the house either. She switched on the light in the kitchen. “Lessie?"

  "In here.” Her grandmother's faint voice came from the parlor. It was a tiny room with a good chair and a good sofa. Next to the window was a round, gilt-edged table. It had supposedly been handed down from the first Harris woman to live in that house.

  Rae switched on the small Victorian fringed lamp she'd put in the room. She dropped to her knees beside her grandmother who was slumped across the sofa. “Lessie?"

  "I couldn't make it upstairs, Rae."

  "Have you eaten today?"

  "No.” Lessie bit her lips to keep from groaning in pain. “I couldn't eat. Don't badger me. I'm doing the best I can."

  "I'm not going to badger you. When did you eat last?"

  "Yesterday, I think."

  Rae rested her head on her grandmother's arm for a moment. Was there ever a time Lessie didn't smell of herbs and fresh air? She hated it as a child. The younger Rae washed rigorously with strong soap so that she wouldn't smell like her. Cerise smelled of herbs, too. “Yesterday? Didn't we talk about how important it was to keep track?"

  "You're badgering me.” Lessie held out her calloused hand to her. “Just let me die."

  Rae took her grandmother's hand. Immediately, the intense pain and fear her grandmother felt flooded through her. Oh God! “I'm going to call the doctor. You're not going to die yet."

  While Lessie fussed and fumed, Jean held her hand. Rae called Dr. Salter. Within a few minutes, the doctor pulled up in his old red Buick. It always died out as he tried to park it. Rae met him at the door and explained what happened.

  He grimaced and pulled off his white straw hat. “This is what I was afraid of. I told you. She needs that surgery."

  "The only thing we have is the house. When I talked to the social worker, she said we'd have to sell it for Lessie to qualify for the surgery to be done free."

  "Then sell it!"

  "She'll die before she sells this house. You know that."

  "I guess I know that, honey.” He put his hat down on a chair and pulled at his wrinkled white suit. “Let's go see her."

  Lessie's condition was critical. She was dehydrated and the mass in her intestine had continued to grow. Dr. Salter made arrangements and found her a bed at the hospital on the island. Rae stayed with her while they put in IV tubes and got the old lady comfortable. The nurses were nice but busy with a ‘flu epidemic. The room was sterile and cold.

  "I don't want to die here.” Lessie waited until they were alone. Her own dark eyes looked back at her from her granddaughter's face. “Promise me, Rae. If the time comes, you'll take me home. No Harris woman has died anywhere else for ten generations."

  Rae held her grandmother's hand. She looked so frail and delicate in the green hospital gown. “I promise. But it won't come to that."

  "I won't sell the house. That has to be passed down,” Lessie defended stoutly.

  "I would rather have you.” Rae tried not to let her voice quiver. Her grandmother was all she had left in the world.

  Lessie patted her hand. “I know you would, child. But we all die sometime. There's no point in fighting the inevitable. I won't sell the land for that."

  Rae smoothed her grandmother's gray curls. “I love you. I won't let you die."

  "Sometimes, you don't have any choice. You have to say goodbye and let go. You'll have to do that with me, honey. If not now then some other day."

  "Let's see what Dr. Salter has to say.” Rae prayed he would be able to find a surgeon who would take on her grandmother's case.

  "We'll do that. If anyone can wheedle something from someone, it's gotta be Sam Salter. The man's a born manipulator."

  Rae prayed that he was everything her grandmother proclaimed. They needed that and more. She'd already had her business appraised. It wasn't enough to start on the surgery. She couldn't sell the house without her grandmother's cooperation. She wouldn't do it around her, even if she could. Her grandmother would never forgive her. All those generations of Harris women would be breathing down her neck. She closed her eyes and rested her cheek against her grandmother's hand.

  Lessie slept for a while. She woke up in pain. Rae called for the nurse. They gave her grandmother something to ease the pain. Lessie remarked that she could do better with her herbs and then drifted off again. Rae stayed with her and held her hand, sleeping part of the time and praying for a miracle.

  Dr. Salter came in a few hours later and shook Rae's shoulder. He gestured for her to come out of the room. Lessie didn't move when she put her hand gently down on the bed. Rae followed him into the hallway and closed the door behind them. She knew from his lined, anxious face that it
wasn't good news.

  "I couldn't find anyone. It's getting harder to find a surgeon who's willing to work when the patient doesn't have insurance."

  "There must be someone. Surely they wouldn't let her die because she doesn't have insurance."

  "That's part of the problem. I've shown her chart to a few surgeons who want to wait and see if she really needs the surgery."

  Rae sank down on the waiting room sofa and shook her head. “So that's it? We wait to see how close she can come to death without dying?"

  He sat down heavily beside her. “I have a call in to a friend of mine in Charleston. He might come through yet. He's always been good at working with charity cases."

  It galled Rae to think of her grandmother that way but she knew it was true. She gave up all of her benefits when she quit her job. There was no pension, no insurance. The shop in town had seemed like a good thing to do with the money from her 401k plan. Now, it felt like the height of stupidity.

  "All we can do is wait.” He gave her a hearty hug. “I'm going to deliver Melanie Taylor's baby. Here's my cell phone number if anything changes."

  "Thanks. I know you'll do what you can."

  "It would help if Lessie wasn't so stubborn. But then she'd be somebody else, wouldn't she?"

  Rae smiled and watched him walk away. The hospital was quiet around her except for the droning of the announcer's voice on the television. She focused in on that. The man from her shop that evening was on the news.

  "Software tycoon, Steve Williams, shown here leaving his office in Atlanta, has decided to sell off part of Solutions, the company started by him and his brother ten years ago. The buyer hasn't been named but the partial sale is said to be over two billion dollars. Mr. Williams stressed that jobs will not be affected by the sale."

  Chapter Two

  Rae picked up the pay phone in the quiet hospital lobby and called the number she found for Solutions software. It was busy every time she tried for the next two hours but she was finally able to leave a message. Frustrated, she rubbed her hands across her bloodshot eyes.

  There was no way of knowing if that message would get through to Steve Williams. But she could have her grandmother in surgery the next morning if she could get in touch with him and accept his offer. At that point, she didn't care who he wanted her to find. She was willing to do anything.

  There was no change in her grandmother's condition and no call from Dr. Salter. It was five a.m.. She needed some caffeine if she was going to stay awake. The hospital cafeteria was open all night. She headed there through the quiet halls.

  The cafeteria was empty. The smell of antiseptic was strong, mingling with the aroma of old coffee. A yawning waitress came around the corner. “What can I get you?"

  "Hot water.” It had been lunchtime yesterday since she'd eaten. She reconsidered. “And a bagel with cream cheese. Thanks."

  "No problem.” The waitress yawned again. “It'll be just a few. I have to wake up the cook."

  Rae smiled. “Sure."

  The familiar noises of the griddle sizzling and fresh coffee perking were strangely comforting. The hushed voices of the waitress and the cook made her feel less alone. She slumped into a ladder back wooden chair at a table near the windows. She was almost too exhausted to think.

  The street outside was still dark. There were only a few cars passing by. Dawn was just starting to lighten the sky above the shoreline. Past that dark water was Charleston. A surgeon might be deciding if he would operate on Lessie that day. Somewhere, Steve Williams was in a torment that all of his money couldn't change. You might be her last hope. There was desperation in his voice when he was at her shop. He specifically asked about the kidnapping cases. She'd waited with parents through that long night, waiting to hear from a kidnaper. Hoping for some clue that would give him away and bring a loved one home safely. There was no fear, no agony, like it.

  "Mind if I join you?"

  Rae's fingers tightened into fists at her sides. Think about it hard enough and it comes, sure enough. That was her grandmother's theory. She forced herself to relax. She needed him. He needed her. She was going to save her grandmother. “No."

  "You aren't surprised to see me.” He put a small green backpack down on the table.

  She looked away from it. He means to test you. She studied the wear marks on the Formica tabletop. Tension made her neck feel unnaturally stiff.

  She didn't want to help him. She never wanted to be involved in finding another missing child again. If it meant her life, she would've been as stubborn as her grandmother with that old house. But it wasn't about her. Lessie's life was worth more than her sanity or peace of mind. “Not really. I wasn't sure if you'd get my message."

  He sat opposite her at the table. “I didn't. I hired someone and he followed you here. I wanted to talk to you again. I thought there might be a chance I could persuade you to help me."

  The waitress brought him coffee and dropped off Rae's hot water. She left again with a weary yawn and a shake of her head.

  "You must be a good salesman.” Rae took out her green tea, making a little ritual out of scooping it into the cup. Anything to put off that moment she was dreading. “You don't give up."

  "I don't actually sell software. I used to write it. What made you change your mind?"

  "I don't really know a lot about software.” She purposely looked down at her chipped cup, refusing to look across the table at him.

  "It's simple. Software makes the computer run.” He stirred sugar into his coffee. “You still don't want to help me, do you?"

  He's perceptive. “No."

  "Then why...?"

  She was blunt. “For the reward."

  "At least you're honest about it.” He paused and studied her. “What makes you run, Ms. Harris?"

  "Isn't that ‘tick'? What makes you tick? Or is that computer slang?” Please God, don't let him see how scared I am.

  He took a few papers from his jacket pocket and set them out on the table between them. “You ran pretty far to get away from your FBI days. I spent last night doing more research on you. Computers are wonderful research tools."

  "I don't want to help you.” The words spilled out of her mouth before she could stop them.

  "But you said you left me a message. You decided you want the reward."

  Rae shot to her feet. “I changed my mind. I-I can't do this."

  "Wait!"

  His hand snaked out and captured her. Long fingers circled her wrist.

  There was an explosion of light behind her eyes. She groaned at the contact then shook off his hold on her. Control. You have to get control.

  "My contact said you brought an elderly woman to the hospital. Your mother? Grandmother?"

  "My grandmother.” She wanted to deny him that tidbit of knowledge. She wanted to run away and hide. But she sat back down and forced herself to focus. Lessie needed her. “She's ill. I need the money."

  "I appreciate your position. Let me be equally as honest with you. My niece has been missing for two days. I need your help finding her. What you do with the money is your business."

  Rae swallowed a sip of the bitter green tea. She was exhausted. She didn't feel like negotiating anything but she had no choice. “Let's get right to it. How much money are we talking about? I need some of it right away."

  Her bagel arrived. The waitress put down a full meal in front of her companion. Rae stared at the eggs, toast, and pancakes crowded on the plate. She wasn't surprised.

  Steve had changed clothes. His soft blue sweater and tan jacket were more appealing than the stark black suit coat and white shirt he was wearing in the shop. Without the hat, without her initial feeling of panic, he seemed more human. Very approachable. He was right the night before. It helped to be in a public place.

  He broke a piece of toast between his fingers. “I'm willing to negotiate. What do you have in mind?"

  "You give me a hundred thousand dollars up front. The same again when I bring your nie
ce home."

  "Don't you want to know any of the details first? You don't know anything about the case."

  They're all the same. It doesn't matter. “I can find her."

  "You obviously have a gift—"

  "You know my record. You know I can find her. Or you wouldn't have come all this way and gone through the trouble of finding me."

  He considered it for a long moment. “You're right. I'm impressed with your record and I'm desperate. But I'm not a fool."

  "You can always sue me for the money if I don't find her."

  Steve sipped his coffee and signaled the waitress for more. “You don't have assets worth half that or we wouldn't be talking, would we? You're as desperate as I am."

  Icy fingers touched her spine. “What did you have in mind?"

  "A test. Tell me something, anything, about my niece.” He picked up the backpack and pulled out two small pink jackets with tigers on them.

  Rae's brain shut down. It wasn't possible. But the proof was there before her eyes. Both jackets were identical to the one that belonged to Denise Little, her first kidnapping case. Seeing them plummeted her into the past.

  * * * *

  Nine years ago, a little girl was taken from her front yard while she was waiting for the school bus. Her name was Denise Little. She was five years old.

  Rae was in her second year of college. On campus, there was talk of a large ransom demand that the parents paid with no result. Students gave out flyers with Denise's face and name, hoping that someone had seen her. Her grin was on the front of every newspaper. The police crawled through the city looking for the man who was seen with her that morning. Their only description was a large man in a uniform. In a city filled with military, it wasn't much of a description.

  Rae knew she could find her. It was a gift from God. At least that's what her mother and her grandmother always called it. The gift of sight. Being able to find lost people and lost things.

  The gift, the sight, came in with puberty. A year and a half of psychology in college honed those basic skills. Rae suddenly knew what she was looking for when she evaluated people. She added a few courses in criminal behavior and criminal psychology. It wasn't her goal but it was interesting. And it was just enough information to make her cocky.