Even now, nearly fourteen years later, Shannon felt her skin flush at the memory of confiding to her parents that she’d been three months’ pregnant.
“The Flannery curse,” she said aloud, thinking of her brother Robert. Still disturbed by Mary Beth’s phone call, Shannon removed her cup from the microwave. She found a box of caffeine-free herbal teas that Shea’s first wife, Anne, had given her for Christmas long ago. She selected a tiny pouch named raspberry mist and she dunked the bag into her steaming cup. She briefly considered calling around for Robert before discarding the idea.
Mary Beth had been right. His involvement with Cynthia Tallericco was common knowledge in town because Robert had up and moved out of their three-bedroom ranch home and into an apartment. He’d made absolutely no attempt to hi
de what he was doing. Whereas his other “dalliances” had been clandestine and short-lived, this one was different, this one had staying power. It was out in the open. Public enough to embarrass Mary Beth and their two kids. Robert didn’t seem to care. He would listen to no one—not their parents or any of his siblings—not even Oliver, soon to be a member of the priesthood.
Robert steadfastly claimed he wanted a divorce, that he loved Cynthia. And there seemed to be no talking him out of it. It was time for him to move on and for Mary Beth “to get a life.” Mary Beth, a staunch Catholic, was refusing, insisting that Robert would “come to his senses” and using their kids as pawns in an ever-escalating war.
When did love become hate? Shannon wondered grimly. Her own marriage had ended in a bloodied emotional battlefield.
Carrying her cup out of the kitchen, Shannon snapped off the lights and climbed the stairs to her bedroom. From the windowseat Shannon was able to view her backyard and over the fence to the property that had just been sold and was slated for a development where “seventy new, affordable homes” would soon be constructed.
Another reason she had decided to move. These five acres would soon be a part of the suburban sprawl of Santa Lucia. She needed more room to train her animals.
She’d thought the place she’d purchased was perfect, and it would be good to put some of the horrors of this house behind her. As she opened the window and gazed out to the night sky where the moon was rising and the sound of cicadas and crickets whispered up to her, the darkness held forboding.
She looked into the night and felt as if there, hidden in the darkness, unseen eyes were watching her.
A chill skittered down her spine.
The Flannery curse, she thought again. In her mind’s eye, she saw her mother as she had been on that fateful day so many years ago, her spirit broken, the look of horror and condemnation upon her face as Shannon had said, “I’m pregnant.” That image had never left her.
“Get over it,” she told herself now as she took off her shoes and padded barefoot to the bathroom. But her mind swam with images of Dani Settler. Silently she prayed the girl was safe, that soon she’d be with her father again. That’s where she belonged, with Travis Settler. Shannon was no part of the girl’s life.
Her heart squeezed painfully as she shook out a pain pill from the bottle. Her ribs were beginning to ache and a headache was crawling up her brain. Tossing back the pill, she chased it with water. Then she grabbed her hairbrush and worked the knots from her tangled tresses. She yanked the brush through her hair as if her life depended on it. She felt the need to hurry, as if the more she brushed, the faster and more furious she worked, the quicker her pain would end, the sooner this would all be over. Eventually she tossed down the brush, covering her face with her hands for several long moments.
She was afraid for the daughter she’d never known and now might never meet. Sick with worry.
Blindly, she walked back to her bedroom, saw the tea steeping on her nightstand. All of her thoughts were on Dani. From her pocket, she withdrew the poster, smoothed the creases with the flat of her hand and propped the picture next to her bed. “Be safe, baby,” she whispered. “Oh, please be safe.” She fought a new round of tears as she eased into bed and turned out the light.
She’d find Dani. She and Travis. There was a strength to the man, a determination. She would help him find their daughter.
Then what? her mind taunted. She could already be dead…Oh, please, God, no! But if she’s not and you find her, are you going to just let her drift out of your life again?
That, of course, would be impossible.
But, for tonight, Shannon wouldn’t dwell on the future. Not now. Not until her child was safe again.
He watched from a distance, his binoculars trained on the compound where Shannon lived. As far as he could tell she was in the house and alone. A perfect time.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out her cell phone, then, knowing he was in reach of the nearest tower to her home, he placed the call.
One ring.
Two.
On the third a woman said, “Hello?”
He waited.
“Hello?”
Again he said nothing.
“Shannon?” the woman guessed. Her voice grew more strident. “Listen, I don’t know what kind of weird game you’re playing with me, but you’d better stop this shit or I’ll call the authorities!” She slammed down the phone.
In the darkness he smiled. Don’t worry, he thought as he repocketed the cell, the authorities will be there sooner than you think, sooner than you want.