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Authors: T. L. Haddix

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BOOK: Shadows from the Grave
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That relationship is why I’m in Leroy, in the park in the town square, watching the sun rise. But before we get into that, I should probably take you through what happened all those years ago. See, you need to understand why things are the way they are now. It’s part of my penance, that explanation. What was done to me was a horrible crime, but what I did to them, to Chase? I’m not sure it wasn’t just as bad, in its own way.

 

~ * * * ~

 

The first time I met Chase Hudson, the sun was shining, and the day was as perfect as any spring day ever was. It was one of those first few days of warmer weather. You know, the ones that pull people outdoors like bees to honey. I wasn’t in a good mood. I’d just gotten news from back home that I didn’t want to hear, and the beautiful weather was an insult, a slap in the face. Why couldn’t it be raining and windy, with howling, horrible weather to match my mood? No, it was a bright and cheerful day, and I hated it.

I was in my second year of college in Lexington, Kentucky. I was an average student, definitely not living up to my potential, but that wasn’t unusual behavior for me. I played a certain role that people expected me to, and it suited my purposes to do it. I don’t think anyone who knew me thought I was in school for any reason other than to party, have a good time, and eventually find a man to marry. Many of my classmates were earnestly trying to find their ways, working hard to make a go of their lives, but not me. I just wanted to have a good time. So, when I met Chase, I wasn’t sure why I was interested in him. He was so completely different from me; maybe that was why. He was good, sweet, and sincere. His personality differed from his physical body, which, let me tell you, was nothing short of impressive. Tall, lanky but muscled, he had a sleek grace of movement that drew women’s eyes like magnets. A soft dreamer, Chase’s brilliant smile stunned anyone he bestowed it upon. The funny part was, this gorgeous hunk of a man was completely oblivious to his physical appeal. As I got to know him, I learned he had been a total nerd until the summer he turned fifteen, when he shot up six inches and gained twenty pounds of muscle. Although his body had changed, he was still that shy, insecure guy that girls never gave a second glance.

He came from a tight-knit family that sounded like something you would see on a sixties TV show—a younger brother, two younger sisters, and parents who were in love with each other even after four children. He had wealth, privilege, and a solid sense of who he was—I should have been disgusted by the perfection of it all. Instead, I was charmed, and before long, we were dating exclusively. It was magic in a way, our relationship, and if it hadn’t been for all the other things in my past, I’d probably still be alive today. I’d be married to that wonderful boy I met on that sunny spring day. But that wasn’t how things turned out.

I was in the library killing time when I should have been studying. The windows next to the stacks I was hiding behind looked out over the small green commons, where my fellow students had taken up as much of the grass as they could. There was a hideously-patterned chair in that remote corner, and I had claimed it for my own. As I stared out over the campus, my mind was stuck on the phone call I’d received earlier. I decided to gather my stuff and head back to my dorm room. As I turned, I smacked into Chase—hard—and he went down in a flurry of papers and text books. To my chagrin, my momentum carried me down after him, and we ended up in a tangle of limbs and blushes on the floor. I apologized profusely, and after we untangled ourselves, we just sat there looking at each other. Before long, we were laughing like giddy kids. He was the first to scramble to his feet. Reaching his hand back down to me, he gave me that smile and introduced himself.

“Chase Hudson, at your service.” I think my heart melted just a little bit when he spoke, and I allowed him to tug me to my feet before I gave him my name.

“Kiely Turner.” I smiled as he bent to pick up his scattered papers. “I’m so sorry about that. My mind was somewhere else.” I excused myself and headed back to my dorm room. Sure, I could have stayed and flirted, but I just wasn’t in the mood. I needed to figure out how to deal with the blow I’d been dealt that morning.

Later that evening, my cell phone rang. “Hey, it’s Chase Hudson, the guy from the library? Apparently, I picked up one of your notebooks by mistake after our collision today.”

“Crap,” I said. “Let me check…” I rummaged around in my backpack and saw that one of my notebooks was indeed missing. “It must have fallen out when I fell. I need it for class tomorrow. Can we meet somewhere?”

“Sure. Just name a time and place.” I named a coffee shop close to my dorm, and we set a time to meet. A short while later, we were talking over lattes, and that was that. By the end of our evening, the next day’s classes were the last thing on my mind. Chase insisted on walking me back to my dorm, and I could tell it took all the courage he could muster to ask me out. For a moment, I considered telling him no, but he was such a sweet guy, so very different than the boys I was used to. I have often thought since then that I should have said no, because it would have spared him so much pain in the future, but I didn’t.

After that, we were inseparable, at least as much as our schedules would allow. As I said, Chase was different from any guy I had ever dated. For one thing, he was very serious about his studies. Having attended classes through the summers as well as spring and fall semesters, he was a year ahead of the rest of his class. He wanted to be an attorney, like his uncle and grandfather, and he had landed an unpaid internship in the Fayette County prosecutor’s office over the summer. It was the first thing we had a fight over. I wanted him to go home with me that summer, so we could spend time alone at my parents’ house. They were going to be away almost all summer, and we would have the house to ourselves. It wasn’t nice of me, but I pushed Chase really hard about that. We’d been getting closer and closer to having sex, so close that we’d been interrupted just on the verge several times, but once he refused to go home to Ashland with me, I backed off the physical stuff. I pulled the ‘if you loved me, you’d do this’ card, and that’s something I’m very ashamed of. I manipulated his feelings in more than one way. It was something I’d done practically my whole life with every male I encountered. It was the way I had been raised, the way my mother taught me to be a woman. When Chase refused to play the game, it was the first time any man had really said no to something I wanted.

When classes ended that semester, I packed up and headed back to Ashland fully expecting Chase would follow. He didn’t, and I did whatever I had to do to salve my ego. By the time I went back to Lexington in the fall, my actions had dealt consequences, and before long those consequences would ripple through the lives of the people I loved.

 

~ * * * ~

 

The night I met my killer, Chase and I were supposed to make love for the very first time. We had patched things up when I returned to Lexington for classes, but it hadn’t been a smooth connection. Because of things that had happened over the break, I needed certain things, and I put a lot of pressure on Chase to give me what I wanted. Yes, I’m talking about sex. Our breakup had made him take a step back in that department. As eager as he was from a physical standpoint, Chase felt deeply that sex should mean something. He was hesitant to take that final step, and the more he hesitated, the more I pushed, until he finally gave in.

That night, he had made reservations at a nice hotel, and had things gone as planned, had I been the person he thought I was, it would have been an evening straight out of a romance novel. However, things rarely go according to plan in this world, and that night was no exception. With less than an hour until Chase was due to pick me up, he got a call from the Commonwealth Attorney’s office. A case they had been working on for weeks had broken, and all hands were needed on deck. The prosecutor wanted Chase to come in for a few hours to help, and Chase knew it was an opportunity he couldn’t afford to pass up.

Although he promised he would come straight to the hotel from work, that wasn’t good enough for me. I gave him an ultimatum—me or work. To my everlasting surprise, he chose the job. I threw what could only be considered a prize temper tantrum, which made Chase shut down even further. The louder I became, the quieter he got, until he finally just turned and walked out.

I was so angry. There just weren’t words to describe it. My body couldn’t contain that level of hate, disgust, and pain. I had my own reasons for wanting to get Chase in bed, other than the physical oblivion sex provided, and now that it had fallen through, I took on a somewhat fatalistic view. To hell with it all, I thought. I headed out to the seediest bar my ego would allow. That was where I met him, my killer. I won’t go into the grim details here. You’ll find those out soon enough. Suffice it to say, I wasn’t expecting to die that night, but then again, the young rarely are.

He’s someone else I’ve followed through the years, my killer. He's done so many bad things, hurt so many people, and he has absolutely no remorse. A few weeks ago, when I learned what he was planning to do, I was appalled. I wanted to interfere, but those wiser than I warned against it. I had to watch helplessly while he schemed, meticulously contriving to achieve certain results.

I’ve always thought anniversaries were important. They should be remembered, enjoyed, and celebrated with cards, gifts, flowers, words of affection, and shared memories. My killer, though? He doesn’t remember the traditional dates—weddings, birthdays, first dates. No, there is only one anniversary he celebrates, and it's one he can't really share with anyone else. At least, he can’t share it with the living. This year, however, he’s breaking his silence.

He toyed with the idea for a while—the proper way to handle the gravity of the occasion, the solemnity and dedication it deserved—before he decided to act. The plan had to be perfect, you see. He knew he would only get one chance to make the impression he wanted, to make sure he got it right. Even the seemingly insignificant process of picking out the cards took time and careful consideration. They had to capture the essence of the event he was celebrating.

You might notice I mention purchasing cards, plural. There are three people who will be directly involved in this celebration, including my killer. Thus, two cards. As you’ve probably guessed, the event he’s celebrating is the tenth anniversary of my murder. I was his first kill, and he’s getting bored. This is his way of upping the ante.

Unfortunately, this also means that people I loved are in for some rather terrible shocks. My poor sister and Chase have no idea what is getting ready to happen. I wish I could warn them, but that’s against the rules…

Chapter 1

 

Walking into Annie’s Arbor, Chase Hudson was greeted by the warm, humid and slightly earthy air. With the profusion of blooms and greenery, he felt as though he had walked into a cultivated jungle. The bell over the door had jingled with his entrance, causing the store’s owner, Annie Jameson Tucker, to look up with a smile.

“Chase! What brings you in here?” she asked. She set the book she had been reading aside and stood to stretch. A petite, curvy redhead, Annie ran the most popular flower shop in town. She had been best friends with Chase’s sister Beth since high school and, over the past several months, she and Chase had been seeing more and more of each other.

Although they had long been friendly, their relationship had only really started to develop after Beth left for a sabbatical. Lauren Grant, another close friend, had gotten married to Charlie Clark, Annie’s half-brother. While Lauren’s marriage had been a good thing, Beth’s leaving town had been a shock, a somewhat traumatic one at that. Chase’s best friend, Ethan Moore, had played a large role in Beth’s decision to leave, resulting in the two men’s relationship being strained past the breaking point. With their circle of friends so disrupted, Chase and Annie had both felt a little lost. It had seemed natural to commiserate with each other.

Over time, they had established a routine of sorts, getting together at least once a week to have dinner or see a movie, anything to get out of the house and away from the loneliness. Annie had helped Chase with his newfound "parenthood" of a young cat named Murphy, and Chase liked to think he had helped her cope with finding herself the last friend standing, so to speak. They had gotten to know each other better, and Chase felt they both had come to rely on the friendship more than they wanted to admit.

In a town the size of Leroy, two members of the opposite sex didn’t associate with each other as often as they did without causing comments. By the time Beth had returned in March and married Ethan, rumors were already flying. Everywhere Chase and Annie went, they were greeted by sly smiles and knowing glances. They both tried to pretend it didn't matter, but more often than not, they either left Leroy for their dinners or stayed in at one or the other's home. Neither of them had broached the subject of the rumors or the actual status of their relationship. Chase knew why he didn't want to bring it up, and he had suspicions about Annie's reluctance, as well. He had long since acknowledged to himself that he felt a powerful attraction to her, both physical and emotional, and he knew that someday soon they were going to have to deal with the subject. Until that moment came, however, he was content to pretend ignorance.

BOOK: Shadows from the Grave
13.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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