Acoustic Shadows. Patrick Kendrick. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Patrick Kendrick
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Приключения: прочее
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780008139681
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rel="nofollow" href="#litres_trial_promo">Chapter THIRTY-ONE

      

       Chapter THIRTY-TWO

      

       Chapter THIRTY-THREE

      

       Chapter THIRTY-FOUR

      

       Chapter THIRTY-FIVE

      

       Chapter THIRTY-SIX

      

       Chapter THIRTY-SEVEN

      

       Acknowledgements

      

       About the Author

      

       Also by By Patrick Kendrick

      

       About the Publisher

       ONE

      Erica Weisz strode up the sidewalk to the Travis Hanks Elementary School in the tiny town of Frosthaven, Florida, a bounce in her step. It was a sunny autumn morning, and Erica loved the weather and this rural area she’d moved to only six weeks ago.

      Frosthaven was a rural town of less than 3,000 full-time citizens, surrounded by freshwater lakes and a diminishing citrus business that was losing ground to imported fruit. The groves stretched out over small hills that rolled on for as far as the locals wanted to see. The scent of orange blossom wafted in the air as Erica squinted at the surrounding citrus groves. From far away they looked green and lush. But, like the ‘FOR LEASE’ signs on the downtown buildings, the diminishing groves echoed the slow decline of a dying place. Most people living here were firmly ensconced in the federal poverty level. The only exceptions were the remaining citrus and cattle processing plants and fertilizer manufacturers, who employed nine-tenths of the town’s population.

      Though Erica was not completely comfortable with her new job, she enjoyed working with the children at the town’s solitary elementary school. She felt she’d gone back in a time machine to an era when people were simple and friendly and communications not so obscure. She had been working per diem as a substitute for the past three weeks, coming in last minute when they’d call her in the morning. Then, just yesterday morning, Dr Linda Montessi, the principal, pulled her aside in the hallway.

      ‘Good morning, Erica,’ she said, her tone professional, as was her appearance; blunt cut hair that brushed her shoulders and framed an oval face that showed kindness weathered with caution. ‘Got a minute?’

      ‘Uh, sure, Dr Montessi,’ said Erica, her mind on other, more personal matters, as usual.

      ‘I recently got a budget item approved, one that allows me to hire a permanent substitute. I was hoping you might take the job?’

      ‘I…well…are you sure? I mean, I’d love to but…’

      ‘And we’d love to have you. So, you’ll accept the offer?’

      ‘Well, to be honest, I’m not sure how long I’ll be staying in Frosthaven.’

      ‘Oh?’ replied Dr Montessi, her eyebrows arching, as if searching for an explanation.

      Dodging the unspoken enquiry, Erica said, ‘Gosh, I’m sorry. May I think about it and let you know tomorrow?’

      Dr Montessi smiled warmly. ‘Yes, of course. That’s fine. Sleep on it, and let me know.’ She walked away and back to her hectic schedule.

      Erica thought about the offer now, as she neared the school gates. She knew she should consider accepting it. The school was a nice place to work, and the best part was that it was within walking distance to her boxy, hibiscus pink, cinder-block home on Barney Avenue. It might be a poor community, but the people seemed genuine and welcoming, and this offer was just another example of that. For the first time in a long time, she had begun to feel comfortable with where she was. But, there was a persistent, creeping worry that loomed over every decision she made. If she stayed longer, her background check would come up clean, but how long could she keep her secrets from these people?

      Dr Montessi was a warm, motivated educator who often dressed up in funny costumes to amuse the students, whilst making significant learning points. For Halloween, she had dressed up as a witch and shared the cautionary tale of the unfortunate Salem Witch Trials. She turned the story into a parable about people bullying others who held beliefs different from their own. The children adored her. She and Erica had hit it off right away. They both had backgrounds in science, and enjoyed similar pastimes such as cycling and CrossFit. Erica decided she wouldn’t allow her usual dark thoughts to trouble her this day. She would focus on the positive offer instead.

      Like all schools in Florida, Travis Hanks Elementary had experienced budgetary problems. The facilities definitely showed years of use, but everyone worked together to keep it clean and tidy. Colourful banners were hung promoting positive affirmations and anti-bullying campaigns.

      Striding through the main office, Erica said hello to the school nurse, Nora, who cared for children with sniffles or scraped knees or tummy aches. And to Sally Ravich, the front office lady with the purple, horn-rimmed glasses, who commented on Erica’s blue, flowered dress and matching, oversized purse.

      ‘That blue matches your eyes,’ she said in her lyrical, southern drawl. Then, noting Erica’s running shoes, added, ‘I saw some nice flats that would match your purse at Payless yesterday.’

      ‘Thanks, Sally,’ said Erica. ‘I’ll stick to my running shoes.’

      When Sally asked what she kept in a purse that big, Erica replied with wide, exaggerated eyes, ‘Everything.’

      Lynn LaForge, the assistant principal, another excellent educator, who doubled as soccer mom and cheerleader coach for her daughter’s middle school team, also greeted Erica.

      ‘You have Mrs Miller’s class again, today, Erica,’ said Lynn. ‘Still has the flu. Did you perm your hair?’

      ‘No,’ said Erica, absently putting her hand in her shimmering, black hair. ‘I left the house with it damp, and it curls if I don’t blow it out.’

      ‘Is that your natural colour?’ asked the inquisitive administrator.

      Erica’s cheeks turned red. Her hair was as dark as a coal bucket and though she was a brunette, with natural sun-kissed highlights, she dyed her hair the lustrous black it was now. When she was a child, she’d been hit in the head by a swing and had to get sutures. It healed fine, but the hair over the scar turned white. Such an anomaly was too distinct, too memorable, and she couldn’t risk standing out.

      Lynn smiled. ‘I’m sorry, hon. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. You look great,’ she said, then cautiously added, ‘Still haven’t met any locals?’

      Erica turned the corners of her mouth down. ‘If you mean men…no. But, I can’t say I’ve really been looking.’

      ‘I’ve got a brother-in-law…’

      Erica smiled benignly and shook her head. ‘I’ll