Shadow Dancer (The Shadow Series Book 1) (37 page)

“Damn, I thought I got it all!”

Finally, the car began to fill up. Blake first, followed by Tommy and Shane, they were just waiting on Tristan. Liam tapping nervously on the dashboard decided to give her a minute or two. Slowly, she walked out of the school with Cole. Watching them closely, Cole must have told a joke because she broke into laughter. Seeing Liam in the car, she kissed Cole goodbye and ran towards the sedan.

“Let’s get home. There is a surprise waiting for you all” Liam said.

“A surprise?” asked Tristan suspiciously.

“Is it ice cream?” asked Shane. “I really hope its ice cream.”

“It’s not ice cream” confirmed Liam.

“Well what is it then?” asked Blake.

“You’ll see.”

When they got home, no one was in the den, or the kitchen, or in the backyard.

“Go upstairs.”

Tristan, confused, followed her brothers upstairs to the second floor.

“Okay. We’re here. Where’s this surprise?”

“No. All the way upstairs. To the third floor.”

“But we’re not allowed up there!”

“Just go.”

Tristan was the first to climb the stairs to the third floor, and she couldn’t believe her eyes. The space that had been barred to them for so long was welcoming them in. The small rooms had been removed, and the space had been
opened up for them. Newly painted and renovated, the third floor was now one huge suite for all the kids. Since the boys didn’t want Tristan to sleep alone, and Tristan wanted to have a bigger space, Jack decided it was time to give them what they wanted.

The third floor had long haunted Jack. That was her space. Her area where she retreated when she was most frightened. With great
struggle he took down her things and packed them away. He was determined to do so for the benefit of their children. Bridgette reminded him that just because the space was being used for something else, didn’t mean that he was forgetting about Catherine. She would always be a part of this family and would always be a major presence in his life. They donated Catherine’s old clothes to a secondhand shop down on Mountain Road. The only item they kept was her wedding gown and her veil, which were safely stored in the attic of the guest house and her artwork, which lined the walls of the large room.

Tristan looked around, amazed at it all, and she simply didn’t know what to say. Five handsome canopied beds were situated throughout the big room, a small desk next to each. In the back of the bright room she could see an ornate door. She walked to it, slowly, with high anticipation building in her stomach. She pushed the door opened and was amazed at what she saw before her. A larger, circular bedroom complete with a beautiful canopy bed, desk and bookshelves built into the walls. Pictures of the whole family lining the walls, with a note on the plush gray comforter that read, “Welcome home!”

At long last, she finally felt that she was.

Chapter Twenty-One

At Long Last

October 24, 1997

Fox Hollow, PA

A sense of calm overcame Jack as he sat on his porch next to Frank. An overwhelming sense of serenity that was foreign to his body. His mind was no longer ridiculed with grief, worrying about his beloved Catherine, nor panic-stricken and guilt-ridden over Tristan. The women he fought so hard to protect could never be harmed again by the
sick man whom Jack had spent his whole adult life worrying about. Though Catherine lost the fight against Kendricks, she upheld the family’s honor and Jack’s trust. Even in her weak condition, she had fought brutally against a man who frightened her to the very inner matter of her soul. Like Tristan, she refused to go anywhere with him, and ran, not out of cowardice, but because the mere thought of going anywhere with Bernard Kendricks made her feel sick to her core. And Tristan, sweet, brave Tristan. Who would have known that she had her Aunt Bridgette’s wild streak in her? Jack certainly didn’t. Her no-holds-barred, take-no-prisoners, no-nonsense attitude is what kept her alive and it is what saved this family in the end. It wasn’t Tristan who needed saving after all. At first he thought that if he hadn’t shown up, that Tristan and the rest of the family would be dead. But after hearing all that Tristan had gone through, all that Kendricks had put her through, he retracted his opinion. She had fought bravely, and she would continue to do so.

Sergeant DiNolfo had stopped by earlier that day to discuss her progress. She now had enough information to close Catherine’s case, Tristan’s case, and about five other related cases on her desk. She had finally gotten out to Pennington prison to pay Benson a visit. Everything his daughter said was true. Benson was framed from Amos and Earl’s transgressions, and when Benson threatened to talk, he found himself in a six-by-eight cell. Now living at his daughter’s apartment, he is beginning to adjust to his life on the outside. As for Earl and Amos, the last DiNolfo heard was that they were being transferred to a high-security prison in upstate New York after their existing one closed down for a variety of rumored reasons. With many of their cases still deliberating, it would be a while before they found out just when they would be getting out. With Catherine’s case being resolved, she came to let Jack know that the insurance money would also be coming out of escrow. Jack nearly kissed her he was so happy. Jack planned to build a high perimeter fence around the property, purchase the kids a new computer, and put the rest away for their tuition.

DiNolfo was frequently reminded of the first time she heard the name Ernest Finkle. A particularly brutal case from her days in Pittsburgh. A triple homicide at an apartment in downtown Pittsburgh that was leased to an Allison Finkle, a med student from Dayton, Ohio, who was studying at the University of Pittsburgh. She recalled going out to the residence after a report of a disturbance came in and she found three bodies all strangled. They were identified as Allison Finkle, age twenty-two, her father Ernest Finkle, age fifty-nine, and his girl friend, Patrice Daly, fifty-six. They were never able to find the killer, but DiNolfo now had a pretty good hunch as to who did it. Ernest Finkle’s stepson, Bernard.

As for Kendricks, his obsession for Catherine was rekindled when he saw Tristan in his class day after day. The search of his apartment hadn’t produced much; Catherine had only sent him two pieces of correspondence. One asking him to leave her alone, and another, a sympathy card for when his grandmother passed away. He
mistook her kindness for something else, and when she rejected him, it was more than he could bear. Then when Tristan showed up in his classroom, his guilt was overwhelming, causing his delusions to run rampant. Tristan is lucky she survived his reign of madness.

With all that she had accomplished in her professional life, she couldn’t help but beam. She felt that she had finally restored some sense of decency to the police image in Elkhart. It wasn’t easy, but she decided that it was worth it. The town was safe, and other than the random teenage punks drinking in Healer Park, she didn’t have too much to worry about. Besides, she had a couple of new cadets that would be coming in in the next few days, and she had to whip them into shape. Liam and Adam didn’t know what they had coming. Meanwhile on the personal front, Joe had asked DiNolfo out on another date, and she agreed, but only if it was someplace nicer than the Rusty Nail.

In the Morrow household, things had started to go back to normal. While Adam and Liam had their time tied into the police academy over in Danville, Tommy, Blake and Shane were being kept busy at the farm. Between school work, tending to the horses, and keeping the livestock fed, they barely had enough time to get in trouble, which was exactly how Jack and Frank had wanted it. Tristan on most days could either be found in the stables with the horses, or on the third floor, enjoying the new space. Jack had come to peace with Tristan’s relationship with Cole, for the most part. He even agreed to let Cole take her to the winter formal. Tommy, Shane, and Blake are still trying to find dates.

The third floor no longer felt strange, haunted. Tristan could breathe easy up there. She didn’t feel the need to look over her shoulder. She felt safe. For the first time in a long time she could close her eyes and not see him.

Jack watched from his porch chair as his daughter rode off into landscape on top of her horse, her brothers riding beside her. He could finally breathe a sigh of relief. The threat had been removed, his family was alive and well, and they were stronger as a whole for having gone through the terrible experience together. At long last he could close his eyes at night.

Epilogue

She had never really left at all. She lived on in memories, in my father’s heart, and in Bernard Kendricks’ delusions. She lingered, trapped by an untold truth, stumbling somewhere between this world and the next. As the red dusk sky emerged over the dense treescape of Cavegat Forest, the Shadows of Morrow dispersed into the brisk autumn air, whispering into the heavens and o’er the trees. The raven, worn and withered with age, took flight, leaving Fox Hollow behind. Spreading its wings, it soared to the heavens, allowing the wind to flow down its back and through its wings, carrying it off into the distance. The raven didn’t have to carry her secrets anymore. The shadow that had been cast over the Morrows and their land had been lifted. Like a breeze flowing o’er the earth, a weight rising off the shoulders of the people who lived there. The memory of her had permeated the wood, and everything else that resided at Morrow Manor. But no more. While the memory of her remained, it no longer weighed down their heads, or poisoned their minds, or fractured their hearts. She was now nothing more than a gentle breeze, floating within and casting into oblivion.

Acknowledgments

The making of Shadow Dancer spans over ten years. It was re-written and edited countless times.
There are many people whom I need to thank.

My husband, Edwin- For your unrelenting support, I cannot thank you enough. For being Jack Morrow and Frank Kilpatrick’s
biggest fan… And for tolerating my long hours at the computer. Thank you!

My sons- You remind me that everyday is an adventure.
Thank you for awakening my inner adventurer.

My mother- Thank you for being one of my first readers and for teaching me what being a strong woman truly means.

Mamo- Thank you for cultivating my love of the written word and for being my first and oldest friend.

My father, Robert- For giving me my Germanic work ethic and showing me that anything worth having is worth working for and earning yourself.

My sister, Leigh- Thank you for your brilliant Raven artwork, countless hours of beta reading and being one of Tristan’s first fans.

My brother Austin- For all the laughs.

My PA Tessa- Words cannot express what your help and dedication mean to me. I could not ask for a better assistant.

Lauren Holmes- You know my characters almost as well as me, and you love them even more. No words… Thank you for being you.

My Street Team- All of you. Thank you for believing in me.

My Beta Team- Your feedback has been instrumental. I cannot thank you enough.

The Bloggers- I cannot get the word out without you. Your help has been pivotal. Thank you so much for believing in my novel!

The Readers- I do this for you. Your support is overwhelming and
I’m blessed to have such an amazing base of readers.