Hidden Shadows (The Shadow Series Book 1) (18 page)

As a cheery tune cut through the silence, Ben curled his arm around, grabbed the phone from his back pocket. Then, without looking at her, he mumbled, “It’s yours.”

“Me? Oh.” Now the familiar tone registered.

She moved, grabbed her own cell where it rested on the kitchen bar.

“Hello?”

“There’s something on your front porch,” an ambiguous, unrecognizable voice scratched, almost made her ear itch with its hoarseness.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you going to get it?”

Jenna pulled the phone from her ear, glanced at the screen. Number blocked.

Normally, she wouldn’t have answered. Normally, she’d hang up. But could it be UPS, the post office, calling about a package? Didn’t they mention the front porch?

“I’m sorry,” she said a bit apprehensively, “I’m having trouble hearing you.”

“Hear this: You don’t deserve what you have. And it could all be taken away. Just remember that.”

“What?
What
?”

But Jenna heard the familiar sound, or no sound, which signaled a call was gone, lost. She yanked the phone from her ear, watched as
Call Ended
flashed.

And with one wild look to Ben, she ran to the front door.

His heavy footsteps pounded close behind.

She threw open the door, darted her eyes to the stoop. There was nothing.

She stepped through, onto the porch, swinging her gaze this way, that. Nothing.

Behind her, Ben said, “Here.”

She turned, noticed what looked to be paper attached to her pretty yellow door, flowing in the chilly November breeze.

Not paper, but a photograph, adhered with one simple piece of tape.

“What the—” Ben tugged it down, eyes narrowing as he examined the image.

Jenna came beside him, inhaled sharply as she stared at the same.

Dawson, bright and jovial, cuddled next to Jacy, who bore her own sweet smile. Arms draped around both children, and Jenna recognized the pose, the hands and arms, as her own.

But she was nowhere in the photo.

Her face had been removed. Scratched and rubbed and obliterated until it was a white blob atop a pristine summer outfit.

Sick, Jenna snatched the photo from Ben with trembling hands. Her breath came out in short, quick gasps as her heart pounded, beat like a drum in her chest.

It was disconcerting, alarming, seeing oneself, knowing the familiar face that should be staring back, being met instead with blank, colorless space.

To Jenna, for some strange reason, it was a stark reminder of her mortality. That she could be gone, erased from her children’s life with one simple act.

Though silly maybe, though simple in its cruelness, Jenna heard a message loud and clear.

She groped for Ben now, wanting his touch, his strong, steady arms, but found him nowhere.

She hadn’t realized he’d gone, run to the street where he now sprinted back from one direction to another.

Jenna stepped off the porch, called, “Ben, they’re gone. You know they’re gone.”

He slowed but didn’t stop. “Yeah? Where’d they call from then? You don’t think they’d want to revel in this? See your reaction?”

She shrugged, confused, defeated. “Maybe. Probably. I don’t know.”

What she did know was that Ben was right—she could live in denial no longer. Someone was clearly targeting her. They had planned and perfected their strategies and were proving that today, showing they had the upper hand.

In spite of his protest, Ben began to jog back. Reaching her, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, brought her in for a squeeze and planted his lips firmly to her hair. “They’re sick. I’m sorry, so sorry this is happening.”

He brought her around to face him. “Time to call Cooley.”

She nodded solemnly, and together, hands clasped, they made their way inside.

When the phone let out a sharp ring, Jenna stiffened, felt a clammy sweat pop up on her palms.

She gripped Ben’s hand tighter. “No one ever calls my home phone. Except telemarketers or a wrong number.”

Keeping her hand in a protective grip, he pulled her to the phone on the wall, answered in a gruff voice.

Mouth set, he held out the receiver. “It’s for you.” At her imploring eyes, he mouthed, “Keith.”

THIRTEEN

“Just a minute. I need a minute.” Jenna laid a hand to her forehead, then her heart. “Now repeat what you just said."

“I. Am. Move. Ing.”

Briefly, Keith’s ignorance flashed through her mind. He was one of those people who thought intense enunciation or talking slower to someone who spoke a different language or was hearing impaired would allow them to understand better. It annoyed her.

“I heard that,” she snapped. “Why? Where? When?”

“Whoa, whoa babe, one question at a time. Keith can only answer them one by one.” Two other things that annoyed her: his constantly talking about himself in the third person, and his referring to her as
babe
or
hun
, like she was a past girlfriend, college fling, or one night stand instead of his wife for ten years and mother of his two children.

“Susan wants to go. Pennsylvania. Two weeks. Did that cover all the bases?”

She was stunned. “Two weeks? Pennsylvania?”

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he slugged dryly.

“What’ll you do there?”

“Susan has some family near. Might even have a job waiting. And of course, I can work from anywhere. But who knows, we get there, I might even find me somethin’ new, make a fresh start of it.”

“What about the kids?”

“Oh, they’ll be fine. They’ve got you.”

Stunned again. “I know that, Keith, but they need their father.”
Not that you’ve been around that much anyway.

“They’ll get him. Holidays, summers, special occasions, you know, the big stuff.”

Yeah, she knew. And knowing Keith, the big stuff would dwindle until there was only small stuff, then no stuff at all.

“Jen, you still there?”

Thing number four. She hated when he used a nickname. He wasn’t allowed to do that anymore. Not after cheating on her with
Sue
.

“Still here. Just, ah, trying to take it all in.”

He grunted. “Tell me about it. Took me a while to get used to the idea too. Brutal winters, smog, big city, but hey, that’s life. And I’ll have Sue with me.”

“Of course.” The two short words dripped with disdain. “So you’re leaving me . . . the kids, at a time like this?”

“No time like the present.”

“Keith, our home was vandalized not even a month ago. We don’t even know who did it yet. I’ve tried to hide it from them, but they know something's off. They’ve seen the repairs, the new things, know Mommy’s been extra cautious and clingy lately.”

“Take it easy, Jen, it’ll all blow over. Cops probably won’t ever catch who did that. Random. Stupid. It'll blow over.”

She heard him take a gulp of liquid, imagined it was beer. She could picture him now, carefree, while he tossed another bomb in her already faltering world. He was probably lounging in a recliner while sweet Sue cooked his dinner and waited on him hand and foot.

For all she cared, Susan could cater to Keith all day long and watch him drink the night away. Jenna didn’t like boozing or serving, which had made her and Keith a flawed match from the beginning.

“I don’t think so, Keith. There’s more I haven’t filled you in on. More that makes me think this isn’t blowing over at all. Not until I do something about it.”

“Well, don’t get in a fit over it. You always were one to get worked up over the small things.”

And this, among many reasons, is why she vowed to never speak to him about her personal life, even if it was serious—especially if it was serious. Keep all communication pertaining to the children.

She glanced at Ben, waiting patiently in the living room, weighed the difference in the two men. Pride swelled at the assurance that she had ended up with the bigger, better man.

She gripped the phone in her damp palm, moved on to the pressing issues. “Keith, what about the parenting plan? We’ll have to go to court, revise it. That takes time and money. Can we do that in two weeks?”

“Ehh, I say toss it. We don’t go by it anyway.” One of the greatest truths he’d ever spoken. “Heck, awhile back I kept them a whole week that wasn’t even mapped out for me.”

God forbid. “Yes, I know that. And I thanked you for it. My point is though, when will you see them? I’m not giving up a whole summer with my children.”

“Fine, holidays then.”

“I don’t know, Keith. The traveling, the trips, the money, getting from here to there. They’re so young. Who will accompany them?

“I don’t know, Jen, I don’t know!” he barked, finally showing the opposing side to his aloofness, which always manifested as rough irritation. “We can work out details later. Play it by ear. I just called to inform you of what’s happening, not cause a riot."

She ignored the insults, the coarseness. “Have you told them, Keith? Have you told your children?”

“Why do you think I’m callin’?”

She sighed, tired, weary. “I guess it’s up to me then.”

He made a sound of agreement, took another slurp of his drink.

She should’ve been insanely surprised by all of this. Her children’s father, packing up and jetting off to a new state with his young homewrecker, leaving their kids without a father—but she wasn’t, not in the least.

She was sad though. And she would cry. Just not where he could hear.

“I’ll let them know when they get home from school then. I’m assuming if they’d like to talk to you, ask questions, they can give you a call.”

“Sure thing. And, Jen, don’t go upsetting them. You just tell them what I told you. This isn’t about them. It's about me and Susan. What we need.”

“I would never dream of upsetting them.” Her voice was cool, commanding. “And someday, Keith, someday you might want to get your butt up and look in the mirror. We’ll talk later.” With that, she slammed the phone to the receiver.

And breathed.

Once, twice, three calming, composing times.

Yes, she was normally polite. Usually calm, to-the-point, ignoring Keith’s brashness, his arrogance and self-centeredness. But there were times when a woman had to stick up for herself. When you were thrown under a bus—or an ex-husband, or a crazy stalker——there were only so many times you could get run over before dying.

And Jenna intended to live.

****

She wept hot, angry tears in Ben’s arms. She let him soothe, comfort, do what he did best and listen, protect, calm. But she was drained to the core. She needed rest, just a moment of respite, reflection.

Ben agreed to call Cooley and report the day’s events and the previous week’s car incident. Jenna agreed to take the rest of the day off and a warm bubble bath.

The scented water did its job, melting her tension, easing the aching in her shoulders and neck. It could not, however, alleviate her racing mind.

Visions of haunting figures, endless lurking shadows, and faceless terrors flashed by like a flipchart.

Willing the images away, praying for peace, she settled deep into the tub’s middle, rested her head on the back lip, and propped her feet on the faucet.

She focused, conjured a scene that didn’t haunt.

Jacy stood outside the cozy dressing area, twirling in a white tutu while Ben looked on, pride radiating from him as clear as sunlight.

Focused on her girl as she had been the evening of the recital, it had not distracted her enough to miss observing Ben’s swimming emotions.

And as he reminded her today, some sentiments were too clear, too obvious to fake.

Shamefully, it appeared he felt much more than Jacy’s own father.

It was clear now what big trip Keith had planned weeks ago, and why exactly he’d been absent for Jacy’s starring role. He was in Pennsylvania, scouting out his new life.

Two weeks? Two weeks!
she thought with a surge of irritation, pushing up in the tub as her own rising heat made the warm water stuffy. What would she tell her babies? Though Keith couldn’t be awarded Father of the Year, Jacy and Dawson both loved when he threw them any bone of attention.

And she understood that all too well, hated that her children ever had to live through a minute of it.

But as much as she and every other parent on the plant might try, she knew she couldn’t keep her kids in a bubble of a pain free world.

Nor, she thought with a shudder as she pictured her headless body, could she keep herself away from all harm.

Reflection complete—at least for now—relaxation appreciated for the two minutes it had graced her, Jenna pushed the drain’s handle down with her toe, rose from the pool of water.