Lost in Shadows (Lost)

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  About the Author

  Discover more Entangled Select Suspense titles… Sinful Secrets

  Tempted by a Touch

  Willing Target

  On Her Six

  Discover the Lost series… Lost in Tennessee

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by Anita DeVito. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  2614 South Timberline Road

  Suite 109

  Fort Collins, CO 80525

  Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

  Select Suspense is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

  Edited by Jenn Mishler

  Cover design by L.J. Anderson

  Cover art from Shutterstock

  ISBN 978-1-63375-789-9

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition December 2016

  Chapter One

  The glow of the laptop was brilliant against the night as Carolina Walker sat on her porch, figuring out the puzzle that was her brother. Nate’s frowning face filled her screen.

  “Just spit it out, Carolina. I know you have something to say.”

  She knew she looked as guilty as she felt. There was no use beating around the bush. Nate always knew when she was hiding something. “The prospectus on the cyber cinema company. What did you think?”

  Nate groaned. He fell back heavily in the chair, the edge of southern Kentucky replaced by the edge of the Army issue desk. “I hate those things. You didn’t actually think I would read it, did you?”

  It fascinated her how the family coloring they shared looked so different. They both had the Walker blond hair. She preferred the way her long, silky strands felt draped around her neck. Nate wore his cut so short, it was nearly invisible on the sides. Carolina’s pale blue eyes were a gift from her grandmother, an angel’s eyes, her father had said. On Nate, the arctic blue was frigid, formidable.

  She shook her head, wondering how Nate ended up being the dramatic sibling. “You don’t have to look like you’re in pain—”

  “I am in pain. Psychological pain. Why do you torture me with these?”

  “It’s important that you understand the risks of investing, Nate. These start-ups can be flashy, risky. If I’m going to invest our money in one, you have to know what we’re getting into and agree.”

  “Every one that you have picked has turned into a gold mine. If you like it, I agree. Just don’t make me read that cure for insomnia.”

  He was hopeless. It was a good thing she had taken their finances in hand when Daddy passed or they’d be making pennies on the dollar in some staid savings account. “Fine.”

  “Fine? Just fine?” Skepticism crept into his gaze. “We already made the investment, didn’t we?”

  “I asked you to look at it last week. These opportunities don’t just wait around.” She waved her hand dismissively but blushed anyway. It always felt a little like stealing when she spent their money without his buy-in. “You have to jump on them to get the best price. I found out they are investing heavily in the big tech show in Las Vegas. That event alone is likely to double the value.”

  Nate raised a brow, flashed a crooked smile. “How much did we invest?”

  “We negotiated a 40 percent stake for a hundred and fifty thousand.”

  “We did, huh?” Nate whistled. “Double in value, huh? I’m going to retire from the army a young and rich man.”

  “Hardly rich.” She twirled the end of her hair, running through the math. “Comfortable maybe, but we have to live off it for a long time. Don’t forget that.”

  “Tell me again why you chose journalism over economics?”

  “There’s nothing interesting about economics. It’s all odds and trends and probabilities. Really. Where’s the challenge? Now, take investigative journalism. I loved solving the puzzles. Taking the who and the when, figuring out the how and the why. Facts and figures don’t lie. People, on the other hand, lie like dogs. In the end, I helped make the world a little bit better place.”

  “If you loved it so much, why did you quit?”

  She gave him the answer for the tenth time. “I didn’t quit. I changed directions. I am very happy being in the background, researching and editing from my own cozy corner of Kentucky. Just today, I’ve been to London, Texas, and Illinois. All without taking off my shoes for TSA.”

  Nate leaned forward, his face again filling the screen. “I don’t care much about your shoes. The rest of you can’t live your whole life from inside our house. It’s not healthy. When you lived in D.C. you were out there, having real conversations with real people. Face-to-face.”

  “I still have conversations with real people. More than you, I’m willing to bet. Talking is talking whether on the phone or Skype. Besides, face-to-face is overrated.” She wrinkled her nose. “Last time I went into town, my bag was nearly stolen. Luckily I held on tight, and an off-duty officer scared him away.”

  His arctic gaze chilled a few degrees. “You’re supposed to let him have the bag. Nothing in it is worth you getting hurt.”

  “My laptop was in it, and you’re deliberately missing the point. You’re the one who loves going out, being seen. I love staying home, being cozy.”

  “You can’t hide, day in and day out. You’re too…you’re too good for that.” Nate slapped his hands on his desk, the signal he was done arguing.

  “I’m not hiding,” she said with equal fervor. “I have friends all over the world. We text and email all the time. I work nearly around the clock—I have to because my clients are, again, all over the world. I love that Buy More delivers my groceries. I love shopping online and free delivery. I see the UPS man so often, he gave me a birthday card this year.”

  “When was the last time you went out on a date?”

  She thought of the online dating service she’d enrolled in and the men who emailed her. No, she hadn’t gone out with anyone yet, but a woman should be a little fussy. “I’m working…” The thought was interrupted as lights came up her driveway, illuminating the front of her garage.

  “What’s that look on your face?”

  “Someone just pulled up the driveway.” She squinted to make out the shape in the dark. “It’s a van. Huh.”

  “Do you recognize it?”

  “No.” Carolina stood, carrying Nate to the edge of the screened-in porch. The van’s door opened, and light flooded out. Her brain glitched, the scene not making sense. “Why do they have masks on?”

  Nate banged his fist on the desk, making her jump. “Get in the library!”

  “The library?” She looked at Nate’s angry face. All at once, she understood. “They’re coming here.”

  The porch had a door to the backyard, but anyone in the driveway would see her. Nate was right, her haven was inside the house.

  “Move, Caro
lina. Go!”

  The command in Nate’s voice propelled her forward. She deftly unplugged the power cord from her laptop and slid into the house. The library was to her left, only feet away. Over the pounding of her heart, she heard the soft whisper of the back door across the threshold.

  She wasn’t alone anymore.

  Seconds counted. She ran on bare feet to the fireplace then tripped the release mechanism, opening a hiding place within the parquet floor and all but fell into the foundation of her home. She pulled the floor back down, feeling as if she were closing the lid on her own coffin.

  This cannot be happening. This cannot be happening.

  The white-blue light from the laptop lit the small space. In the part of the house without a basement, a lined hole big enough for two adults receded nearly three feet into the ground. The air smelled earthy and chilled her face, hands, and feet. Abruptly, the light from her laptop extinguished.

  Dark. It was beyond dark. It was the essence of black. Completely devoid of life and air, there was just the cool, dank earth.

  Carolina put the tip of her thumb in her mouth and bit, anything to prevent the scream trying to burst out. The pain gave her focus as her body flooded with adrenaline and an urgent need to run away.

  Lubdub lubdub lubdub

  “Find it. It wasn’t in the car. It has to be here.” A voice of authority spoke.

  “What if she has it with her?” The sidekick’s nasally voice seeped through the cracks in the floor.

  “Dumbass.” This voice was older but still rang through his nose. “Women don’t carry those around.”

  “A library,” Authority said. “Search it. Search every room.”

  What were they looking for? What did they think was here? Her thoughts filled the small space until there wasn’t room for her body.

  The hard heel of a boot landed right above her face.

  Lubdub lubdub lubdub

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are.” One of the men stood above her, his accented voice promising and threatening in equal measures.

  Lubdub LUBDUB LUBDUB

  “What the hell are you doing? Go help upstairs.” Authority gave the order with the drawl but none of the charm of a Southern gentlemen. Footfalls echoed above Carolina’s body. She pressed herself against the wall, trying to make herself thinner, trying to disappear. Eyes closed, she listened.

  Silence.

  Where were they?

  Silence.

  Did they leave?

  “Fuck.” The curse roared above her.

  She bit as hard as she could, preventing a silent, anguished cry of terror as the boogeyman stood unwittingly over her. Then the floor was a drum. Books rained down. It had to be the books reverberating through the century-old home. There were too many for it to be anything else. Each strike from above resonated through her prone body, razing her overworked heart.

  LUBDUB LUBDUB LUBDUB LUBDUB

  She had done it. She had sucked all of the air out of the vault. Her lungs couldn’t fill. Her heart raced out of control. Her head spun. Eyes open, eyes closed. It didn’t matter. Around and around and around she went. She pressed a hand to cool stone, hoping to ground herself. Instead, the walls closed in.

  Carolina covered her ears and pretended she wasn’t here. She found a quiet spot of sanity deep in her mind and curled up. She lost sense of time and space. She heard nothing, felt nothing. Floating, no longer being. Alone. She thought of Nate. She forgot to tell him she loved him. Did he know? There was no one else in her life, so it was important he knew. She took a shallow breath, too tired to fight for more. Leaving would be…so…simple.

  White light engulfed her. She was too exhausted to care that she died in a hole under her family’s house.

  “Carolina, honey, you’re safe.” Hard hands gripped her arms, fingers digging deep.

  Cool air was a sharp slap to her cheeks. She opened her eyes to face her fate. The heavy cheeks and prominent nose inches from her own were so familiar. “Daddy?”

  A thought peeked through the exhaustion. If she were dead…would she have arms? And…would they hurt if someone squeezed them?

  “They’re gone, Carolina. Come on, let’s get you out of there.”

  She blinked, bringing the face into focus. “Uncle Mitch?” Mitch Walker pulled her into a sitting position. He was in uniform, his sheriff’s badge and side arm providing her comfort. Her gaze drifted over his shoulder to the face of Deputy Derrick Jenkins, Nate’s high school friend. He often visited and told her stories that made her laugh. Now he wore an expression of revulsion, abhorrence, as he surveyed the room. Climbing to her feet, she followed Derrick’s gaze to the empty shelves that had started the day holding hundreds of books. The furniture was turned over. The lamps were toppled. She reached for her uncle’s gun. “In…in the house.”

  Mitch knocked away her hand and, taking most of her weight, brought her out of the hole. “I know. They’re gone now. Come on, let’s go to the parlor.”

  “How did you know?” She looked into the face so much like her father’s as they left the destruction of the library behind.

  “Nate called.” Mitch’s lips were drawn thin with a slight curl of contempt. “Bastards were gone when we arrived. Probably drug addicts looking for anything they could pawn. Did you see what they drove?”

  “It was a van. I’m not sure what color… My kitchen!” Her voice was an octave too high and, for a moment, she forgot how to breathe. Her cabinets were as empty as the library bookshelves. Flour and eggs and pickles and dishes were a pile in the middle of the once spotless floor.

  “Who could have done this?” She stopped, her legs simply refusing to move. She looked to her uncle. “I don’t understand. What did I do?”

  …

  This day had been a long time coming. Jebediah McCormick tugged on his suit jacket as he stood under the arbor, next to his brother. John “Butch” McCormick Jr. was finally marrying the love of his life. Jeb took in the lovesick look on his brother’s face and relaxed. He wouldn’t have to worry about Butch, who had found more than he bargained for in Kate Riley.

  Kate was a woman of above average intelligence, a spine of steel, and a proclivity for trouble. Maybe if he confiscated her car…but he couldn’t do that anymore. He wasn’t sheriff. He’d resigned from the position and signed on as co-owner of a security firm, Chameleon. He was, officially, a businessman.

  The music changed. The door at the end of the courtyard opened, and the bride stepped into the warm October sun. The fire-haired beauty, wrapped in a sculpted white dress, floated down the aisle, tethered to the earth by the arms of her father and uncle. She radiated happiness as she landed inside the arbor and handed the wildflower bouquet to the tall, smirking man standing at her side. Jeb hadn’t been able to resist teasing Tom Riley about standing for his cousin as her “man of honor.” Teasing aside, this felt right, the four of them, together as they had been since that eventful spring.

  Promises gave way to rings that led to kissing as the courtyard filled with blue and white balloons, and the party started. Over the past four months, Jeb had worked with Butch, Katie, and Tom to transform the hundred-year-old family farmhouse into an estate with enough room for all of them. Many of the rooms were still bare studs, but the courtyard in which he now danced with the bride was spectacular. Katie laughed as he spun her in a circle and then brought her back against him.

  “Clyde, this is Tennessee, not West Virginia. You can’t be making a move on your sister, and that’s exactly what she is now that I married her.” Butch grabbed Kate by the waist and spun her in a circle.

  Happy to see the drunk-on-life gleam in his brother’s eyes, Jeb felt a grin cross his face at the nickname. Even on his wedding day, Butch likened him to the ass from their childhood. “Clyde, that’s just sick.” The phone in his pocket vibrated. He absently pulled it out to read the two-word message. His heart skipped a beat and then settled into a trained rhythm.

  “What is it?” Butch
asked, leaning in and looking at the screen in Jeb’s hand.

  “An old friend. I have to take this.” He left the couple to their guests and disappeared into the east wing of the house. His wing. The lower level was his office, featuring an extensive computer system and a safe room where he stored equipment. His residence occupied the upper level. He was railroaded by his brother into moving in, bribed with a furnished living room and bedroom, and guilted by three faces who wanted him in their lives. Months later, he still hadn’t changed a thing.

  He sat behind his large desk and looked again at the text. Mockingbird sing. An overseas phone number followed. Fire burned in the pit of his stomach. Only a handful of men knew the code, and he would willingly die for every one of them. He dialed the number. “Mockingbird here.”

  “Jeb, Nate Walker. I need your help. I’m not sure where to start.”

  Jeb pulled a pad of paper from his desk drawer, armed himself with a reliable pen, and prepared to listen. The voice in his ear was that of a man who was more than his friend, he was his comrade. They worked together as part of a seamless team, the difference between success and failure, life and death. “Beginning is always good.”

  “Right. You remember, I have a sister. Carolina.”

  “I remember.”

  “She lives in my family’s home in Bowling Green, Kentucky. The house was broken into last night, while she was there, while I was Skyping with her. I had her hide. I had to… I couldn’t find a way to get her out and even if I had…”

  Nate took a deep breath while Jeb scratched down the information: Bowling Green. Break-in. Sister. “I called our uncle, Mitch. It took three rings before he answered. I nearly went out of my mind. He’s sheriff. He got there fast…they were gone by then. The damage was done.”

  “Did they find her?”

  “No. No, thank God for that. They did a quick and nasty on the house. Smashing anything they could get their hands on.”

  He frowned, wondering where this would lead. Nate Walker wasn’t a frivolous man.

  “My uncle thinks it was addicts, looking for anything to sell. He thinks that when they heard the sirens, they did what they could to make a point before running.”