Stolen Innocents (The Shadow Series Book 2) (28 page)

***

Joe drove eighty miles per hour down I-80 West, trying to get to Pittsburgh as quick as possible. Jenna looked nervous beside him and he really couldn’t blame her. Heart attacks were nothing to play around with. He had only spoken with Chuck DiNolfo a few times on the phone, but he had always thought he was such a nice guy. Joe hoped he would be alright.

***

“Okay students, papers down,” said Mr. Keppler as he eyed his students precariously.

Shane groaned in protest.

“Five more minutes?”

“Pencils down,” Mr. Keppler repeated.

Tristan, who Mr. Keppler had sat on the opposite side of the room, had finished up the final exam twenty minutes earlier. She eyed her cousin warily. Hopefully he at least got a D so that he could still graduate. She glanced back at Tommy who was still scribbling on his test paper. He filled in the final answer as Mr. Keppler snatched the paper from him.

“Good luck ladies and gentlemen. I’ll have the grades for you tomorrow.”

***

Joe and Jenna arrived at Pittsburgh Medical Center just after 1:00 P.M. They made a beeline for the front desk which had a line of people waiting. Within five minutes, they had reached the front of the line where a woman with short red hair and gentle brown eyes was waiting to assist them.

“Hi there… Are you visiting a patient?” the woman asked Joe and Jenna.

“I am,” replied Jenna nervously.

“What is the patient’s name?”

“Charles DiNolfo.”

“Can you spell that for me?”

Jenna proceeded to spell her last name for the clerk.

“Hmm…”

“Yes?” said Jenna with a worried look on her face.

“We don’t seem to have a patient here by that name.”

Joe’s stomach lurched. Jenna pressed the matter at hand.

“I received a call from a nurse here. Her name is Mary Wells.”

“I’m sorry, but there are no nurses here by that name. Are you sure you have the right hospital?”

“I’m positive.”

Suddenly, it struck her. What if someone just wanted to get her out of town. What if they saw that Jenna was getting close to figuring them out, and they just wanted to get her out of their hair? What if there was another murder about to go down? The hair on Jenna’s arm stood on end. Joe noticed the alarmed expression on her face.

“Hun… what’s wrong?”

“I have to check their house. I have to make sure they are okay.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

DiNolfo jumped in the driver seat, waited for Joe to get in and slammed on the gas. She weaved in and out of some of Pittsburgh’s tiniest streets until she finally came to a halt outside of 351 Evergreen Court.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Joe asked in concern, but Jenna waved him off.

Jenna grabbed her keys from the ignition and searched for the key that would open her parent’s one-floor rancher. Within a moment she was in her parent’s living room. She called up stairs, but no one answered. 

“It doesn’t look like anyone is home…” said Jenna to Joe, growing increasingly alarmed.

Joe walked around the living room to see if he could find any note left behind or any clue as to where they might be. He didn’t find anything in the living room so he wandered into the kitchen.

“Hey hun…” Joe called from the kitchen.

“Yeah?”

“There’s some hotel reservation for Atlantic City out here on the table.”

“What?!”

Jenna stormed into the kitchen to see what Joe was talking about. Sure enough. A one week stay at the Sands Casino. Jenna raced to the telephone and dialed her mother’s cell phone number. It rang six times before she picked up.

“Hello?!” Anita DiNolfo yelled loudly into the receiver.

“Mom… It’s Jenna.”

“Oh, Jenna! Hi honey!” said Anita in a high pitched voice.

“Where are you?” asked Jenna with a perplexed look on her face. This did not sound like a woman with a sick husband.

“Uh… I’m on the beach in AC. Where are you?”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“I’m at your house!” Jenna said in an exasperated voice.

“Why on earth are you there?!” said Anita, her voice getting louder and louder.

“Is Dad alright? I got a call saying…” Jenna stopped herself. She didn’t want to make her mother more paranoid than what she already was.

“Is Dad okay?” Jenna asked calmly. She thought she knew the answer.

“He’s fine. He’s right next to me getting a tan. We’re going to do some shopping and gambling later!”

“Oh, thank God.”

“What, honey? I can’t hear you. You’re breaking up!” Anita yelled into the phone. She knew two octaves, loud and louder. Anita was now at her loudest and her voice hurt Jenna’s ear drum.

“Nothing, Mom. I’m glad you’re having a good time. Enjoy your vacation!”

Jenna hung up the phone as relief and dread both flooded her system. She was relieved beyond measure to know that her father was well and not in the hospital. Unfortunately, her relief was short lived because there was the very real problem of someone calling her out of town. It was someone who knew her father’s name, where her parents lived, and it was someone who wanted to get her out of town.

“Is he okay?!” asked Joe nervously.

“Yeah! They are on the beach in AC!”

“What the hell was that call about this morning, then…” said Joe with a serious tone of voice. Jenna didn’t blink. She knew without a doubt that someone had tried to purposely get her out of town.

“We need to get back to Elkhart. ASAP.”

Chapter              20

June 20, 2000

Morrow Manor

Fox Hollow, PA

11 A.M.

Storm clouds churned in the gray sky above Morrow Manor as Frank and Bridgette Kilpatrick rode on horseback through the orchard. The heavy hooves of Frank’s thoroughbred clopped against the dirt as it sped ahead. The horse seemed spooked.

“Easy girl…” Frank said as he stroked his calloused hand against the horse’s neck. The horse seemed to calm in response to his touch.

Tumultuous clouds warning of an impending storm blocked out the sunlight, leaving Bridgette and Frank standing in a strange late morning dim. The wind kicked up and whipped Bridgette’s long red hair across her face. Frank’s brow furrowed as his eyes teemed to the sky above.

“A storm is brewing…” said Frank with a weary expression. He spoke on more levels than one.

Frank and Bridgette continued to survey the apple crop that had flourished remarkably well this year. They would have plenty to bring to the farmer’s market next week.

“I think we’re about done back here,” mentioned Bridgette to Frank. “I think Jack will be pleased with the result.”

Bridgette continued speaking but Frank did not respond.

“Frank?”

Frank was staring up at the manor house with a grave look on his face.

“Were we expecting company?” Frank asked in a strange tone of voice.

“No. Unless its Joe and Jenna back already.”

“It’s definitely not Joe or Jenna.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Bridgette with a perplexed tone of voice as her horse galloped to where Frank’s horse was standing.

“I’m trying to figure out who the hell that is, and why they are standing on our porch,” Frank said in an angry voice as he pointed to the figure that stood on the porch of the Morrow Manor. The figure was dressed plainly in a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt and a black hat and it appeared to be staring right at Frank and Bridgette. Bridgette’s blood ran cold.

“Giddyup, girl. C’mon!” yelled Frank as he nudged his horse into a full gallop towards the house. Bridgette followed behind but she couldn’t keep up with Frank’s horse.

As fast as the figure appeared, it was gone again. Whoever it was slid off of the side of the porch and ran into the tree line that bordered the manor house. Frank sped after the intruder, hell bent upon determining their identity.  Bridgette watched as Frank barreled through the tree line on his horse with his gun drawn. Suddenly, Bridgette noticed something odd sitting on the porch. A simple brown box with no markings or address was waiting for her. Her stomach lurched as she took in the sight of it. Bridgette dismounted her horse and tied his reins to the wooden railing of the porch as she continued to eye the box. Slowly, she climbed the steps of the manor house. Whoever was just on the porch must have left it. It certainly wasn’t delivered by regular post. Ted, the mailman, usually didn’t arrive until about 1 P.M.

Bridgette carefully approached the box. The flaps were open and unsecured. Bridgette reached into the box to see what lay inside. She retrieved another cardboard box, this one was firmly sealed. Bridgette tore the packing tape from the box in one fell swoop. The lid sprung open with tissue paper popping out. Bridgette swallowed as her nerves frayed. She pulled out the tissue paper one by one, until she discovered an ornate box. The box was incredibly old, with Victorian filigree work and a beautifully inscribed monogram on the lid. Bridgette was perplexed.

“Who would leave this here? This doesn’t belong to us,” Bridgette said aloud.

Bridgette continued to admire the external beauty of the box for a moment. She just couldn’t believe someone would just discard this all the way up here. They were an hour from Elkhart. It just didn’t make sense. Bridgette tried to figure out how to open the box and found a clasp on the front. She released the clasp as the lid slowly rose. A strange scent escaped from the box. Bridgette thought it smelled as if it was used for other purposes other than storing jewelry or trinkets. Bridgette peered down into the box and noticed that a stack of photographs lay inside. She put the jewelry box on the floor of the porch as she flicked through. The first photograph in the stack was of Tiffany O’Mara. She was dressed in a pretty green frock in the Forest of York. Bridgette flipped the photograph over, but the only notation was a date: June 20, 1980. Bridgette flipped to the next photograph; a recent photo of Courtney O’Mara. The picture showed Courtney standing in the middle of Mountain Road dressed in a striped shirt. She wore a pensive look on her face. On the back of the photograph, there was another date: June 17, 2000.

Bridgette got a funny taste in her mouth as her brain started piecing the puzzle together. Bridgette flipped to the third picture in the stack. It was an old year book picture of April Dearing. Marked in pen over her picture was the date June 19, 2000. A heavy sigh released from Bridgette’s lungs. She knew what the dates meant. The date on the back of the photograph was the date that each of the women had died at the hands of another. A brutal murderer, who seemed to have it out for the women in Elkhart, had left the Morrows a box of clues… Or were they warnings?  Without pause, Bridgette flipped to the next photograph. Angie O’Mara’s photograph stared up at Bridgette. She wore a nude colored dress and appeared to be at the Farmer’s Market in Shepard’s Grove. On the back of the photograph, Bridgette read the date June 20, 2000.

Today.

Bridgette released a breath as she glanced at the next photograph. Tears began to water from her eyes as she looked down at a recent picture of Natalie Piedmonte. She was smiling and dressed nicely in a red tea-length dress. Bridgette’s hand shook as she turned over the photograph. A neat scrawl on the back read June 20, 2000. Bridgette had to catch her breath. After a beat she flipped to the next photograph, placing Natalie’s picture gently at the back of the pile. A young Jenna DiNolfo peered up at Bridgette with a sassy smirk from the photograph. She was dressed in an all black prom gown with Joe on her arm. Someone had circled her face with a black magic marker. On the back of the picture, the date June 20, 2000 was marked. Anger rose in the pit of Bridgette’s stomach. There was only one picture left. Somehow, she knew who would be on it. As she flipped Jenna’s photograph to the back of the pile, she felt as if she was going to faint on the spot. Tristan and Bridgette smiled broadly in the photograph. It was the photo that was published in the Elkhart Bugle last month for the Mother/Daughter luncheon that Steeplechase held. Bridgette remembers how thrilled she was that Tristan had asked her to attend. Now Bridgette felt empty. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. Finally, she did the only thing she could think of in that moment to do. She called the one person that would know how to handle this calmly and rationally.