Shadows (Black Raven Book 1) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Stella Barcelona
C?”
“Cynical? Cranky?” Ragno gave a low laugh. “Actually, the c’s could be tied to obsessive compulsive disorder, a diagnosis that is constant for Spring. I think the c’s are clever, cute, and catchy.”
“Spare me the humor.” He eyed Covington’s quaint downtown as they stopped at a traffic light. It wasn’t where he’d have expected a celebutante party-girl like Skye to settle, but nothing about Barrows or his escape made sense yet. In the distance, brake lights of a lone car flashed as it turned off the street. Although the sun had risen, there were no pedestrians, not even a jogger. His eyes followed Pete’s gesture down the road, about a half a mile away, to a corner property where a wide, tree-filled lawn was surrounded by a white picket fence.
Pete said, “There it is.”
“None of this is making any damn sense. If Skye is so damn brilliant, why didn’t she pick up the pieces of her father’s business? What the hell is she doing running a coffee shop?”
“Great questions,” Ragno said. “My intel isn’t giving me answers. Yet.”
A large Creative Confections sign, readable even at a distance, stood on the corner of the property. Nestled in the center of the lawn was a white wood cottage with cream trim, tall, glistening windows lit from within and adorned with open shutters, a wide porch that had seating areas with white wicker tables and chairs. In the porch’s far corner there was a swing with cushions. “There’s a paper trail for the business? Permits? Tax I.D. numbers for federal and state?”
“Yes,” Ragno said. “Chloe and Colbie Stewart are owners of a legitimate business. Their identities are solid and even include social security numbers. I’m impressed.”
Tall pine trees and oak trees with thick, meandering branches surrounded the cottage. Clear lights sparkled in trees. Wisps of smoke escaped from chimneys that were on either side of the cottage. It was February, it was chilly, and in charming coffee houses in Louisiana, fireplaces would, of course, be lit. Sebastian couldn’t imagine a more inviting setting, and if quaint towns were your thing and long mornings with a hot cup of coffee and a good newspaper, book, or friendly chitchat was appealing, Creative Confections looked like the jackpot. Sebastian didn’t typically like small towns and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat down for a cup of coffee. The quiet town and the homey-looking cottage looked like a planet that was different than the hard-edged world in which he lived. “Is it open?”
“No, it opens at seven. In ten minutes,” Pete said. “Want me to park down the street?”
“Are they there?”
“Yes,” Ragno said. “Just arrived.”
“They park in back, a small driveway with a couple of parking spaces,” Pete added. “The driveway entrance is on the side street. It’s narrow. Not intended for traffic or customers.”
“Park in front,” Sebastian said. “The party’s over for Chloe and Colbie Stewart. Time for them to be Skye and Spring Barrows again.” Even without the oddness of living under an assumed identity, Skye was running a retail business, selling the sort of items people still purchased with cash. “Weapons?”
Pete accelerated as the light changed. “She keeps a laser-sighted .38 Special Smith & Wesson Centennial in her nightstand.”
Sebastian knew the model. The snub-nosed revolver was a perfect fit for a woman’s hand.
To Pete, Sebastian said, “You were in her house yesterday, while she was at the coffee shop, and the gun was at the house?” Pete nodded. “So there might be other weapons,” Sebastian said, thinking it made sense she’d carry one to work. He watched a golden-brown, four-legged blur dart from the coffee shop lawn and run, without pause, into the road and head directly in front of them. “Brake. Now. Brake!”
Chapter Two
Tires screeched as Pete made a sharp left turn, coming close to the dog but missing by an inch or
“Cynical? Cranky?” Ragno gave a low laugh. “Actually, the c’s could be tied to obsessive compulsive disorder, a diagnosis that is constant for Spring. I think the c’s are clever, cute, and catchy.”
“Spare me the humor.” He eyed Covington’s quaint downtown as they stopped at a traffic light. It wasn’t where he’d have expected a celebutante party-girl like Skye to settle, but nothing about Barrows or his escape made sense yet. In the distance, brake lights of a lone car flashed as it turned off the street. Although the sun had risen, there were no pedestrians, not even a jogger. His eyes followed Pete’s gesture down the road, about a half a mile away, to a corner property where a wide, tree-filled lawn was surrounded by a white picket fence.
Pete said, “There it is.”
“None of this is making any damn sense. If Skye is so damn brilliant, why didn’t she pick up the pieces of her father’s business? What the hell is she doing running a coffee shop?”
“Great questions,” Ragno said. “My intel isn’t giving me answers. Yet.”
A large Creative Confections sign, readable even at a distance, stood on the corner of the property. Nestled in the center of the lawn was a white wood cottage with cream trim, tall, glistening windows lit from within and adorned with open shutters, a wide porch that had seating areas with white wicker tables and chairs. In the porch’s far corner there was a swing with cushions. “There’s a paper trail for the business? Permits? Tax I.D. numbers for federal and state?”
“Yes,” Ragno said. “Chloe and Colbie Stewart are owners of a legitimate business. Their identities are solid and even include social security numbers. I’m impressed.”
Tall pine trees and oak trees with thick, meandering branches surrounded the cottage. Clear lights sparkled in trees. Wisps of smoke escaped from chimneys that were on either side of the cottage. It was February, it was chilly, and in charming coffee houses in Louisiana, fireplaces would, of course, be lit. Sebastian couldn’t imagine a more inviting setting, and if quaint towns were your thing and long mornings with a hot cup of coffee and a good newspaper, book, or friendly chitchat was appealing, Creative Confections looked like the jackpot. Sebastian didn’t typically like small towns and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat down for a cup of coffee. The quiet town and the homey-looking cottage looked like a planet that was different than the hard-edged world in which he lived. “Is it open?”
“No, it opens at seven. In ten minutes,” Pete said. “Want me to park down the street?”
“Are they there?”
“Yes,” Ragno said. “Just arrived.”
“They park in back, a small driveway with a couple of parking spaces,” Pete added. “The driveway entrance is on the side street. It’s narrow. Not intended for traffic or customers.”
“Park in front,” Sebastian said. “The party’s over for Chloe and Colbie Stewart. Time for them to be Skye and Spring Barrows again.” Even without the oddness of living under an assumed identity, Skye was running a retail business, selling the sort of items people still purchased with cash. “Weapons?”
Pete accelerated as the light changed. “She keeps a laser-sighted .38 Special Smith & Wesson Centennial in her nightstand.”
Sebastian knew the model. The snub-nosed revolver was a perfect fit for a woman’s hand.
To Pete, Sebastian said, “You were in her house yesterday, while she was at the coffee shop, and the gun was at the house?” Pete nodded. “So there might be other weapons,” Sebastian said, thinking it made sense she’d carry one to work. He watched a golden-brown, four-legged blur dart from the coffee shop lawn and run, without pause, into the road and head directly in front of them. “Brake. Now. Brake!”
Chapter Two
Tires screeched as Pete made a sharp left turn, coming close to the dog but missing by an inch or