The Shadow in the Static
Later that night, inside a tech-heavy area of Two Minds Private Eye, the air was thick with the scent of fresh – high-end – coffee and mahogany wood. Just like the rest of their 1950s offices, the Two Minds Private Eye's tech room was modern convenience wrapped in 50s charm.
A young analyst named Leo sat in a dark brown, deep, overstuffed leather chair. He was focused on a console, wearing high-fidelity headphones that canceled out the world. He was currently running a forensic scrub on the latest audio file received from the hidden transmitter in Jessica Lance's vehicle.
Most of the day had been a monotonous drone—retail therapy and muffled venting. But then, the waveforms on his screen spiked into jagged, aggressive peaks. Leo leaned in, his pulse hammering in his throat. He filtered out the road noise and the hum of the engine, isolating the two voices through a spectral analysis filter.
"I need you, Anthony... Who?... Amber Ann Lance-Trace... Okay."
Leo's chair scraped loudly against the floor as he stood up, his face drained of color. He grabbed the tablet and sprinted toward Omar and Clarence's shared office. He didn't knock; he burst in, the door hitting the stopper with a heavy thud.
"Clarence! You need to hear this. Now."
Clarence Dens looked up, his brow furrowed. He took the headphones, listened for thirty seconds, and his expression turned to stone. "Anthony Shaw," Clarence whispered, the name tasting like bitter ash. "He's a professional. If Jessica reached out to him, she's not looking for a scare. She's looking for a funeral."
He paused and looked over to Omar's massive desk.
"Good job, Leo. Make a transcript – highlight the vital portion – and send it to Omar ASAP."
He picked up his phone and began to call Dan Trace before Leo could respond.
At Blue Serene Lake, the world was painted in shades of violet and gold. The water was a mirror, reflecting the first few stars of the evening. Amber Ann stood on the edge of BonBons Sereins' dock, her eyes closed, breathing in the scent of pine and damp earth.
Dan stood a few yards away, watching her. He felt a profound sense of awe. This woman had survived his betrayal, her sister's cruelty, and her parents' strict demands, and here she was—standing tall, building an empire. He reached into his pocket to check his phone when the screen lit up with Clarence's name.
He listened to the report in a cold, paralyzing silence. When the call ended, his first instinct was to scream, to grab Amber and run. But he stopped. He needed to be smart. He needed to be the man she deserved.
He stepped further into the shadows of Amber's house and dialed a number he had once feared to call: Damon Lance Sr.
"Damon," Dan said, his voice a low, gravelly vibration. "Clarence just intercepted a call. Jessica... she's put a hit out on Amber. She called Anthony Shaw."
There was a long, terrible silence on the other end of the line. Dan could almost hear the sound of a father's heart breaking for the second time that night.
"I see," Damon Sr. finally whispered. "Madness has taken root then."
"Sir," Dan said, his voice cracking slightly. "I'm with her now at the lake. I... I don't know if I should tell her. I don't want to cause her more pain. I don't want to make another mistake, sir. I've made enough of those to last three lifetimes."
Damon Sr. took a long, ragged breath. When he spoke, his voice was no longer that of a businessman; it was the voice of a Lion.
"I can't tell you what is best for your wife, Dan. That is a weight you must carry. But listen to me clearly: You better keep my daughter safe. If a hair on her head is harmed because you were too busy 'thinking' instead of 'acting,' there won't be a corner of this earth where you can hide from me. Protect her."
"I will," Dan promised, a cold resolve settling over him. "With my life."
He ended the call and walked toward the dock. He forced his legs to move at a steady, rhythmic pace. He couldn't let her see the panic. If he spooked her, she might run toward the parking lot—and that's exactly where a predator like Shaw would wait for a clear shot.
"Amber?" he called out, his voice sounding remarkably steady despite the roar in his ears.
She turned, a small, serene smile playing on her lips. "Isn't it beautiful, Dan? The lake is so quiet tonight."
"It is," he said, reaching her and taking her hand. His grip was firm, almost bruising. "But the temperature is dropping fast, and I... I actually have a surprise for you inside. Let's go back to the house. Now."
Amber's smile faltered as she felt the tremor in his hand. "Dan? You look like you've seen a ghost. What is it?"
He looked into her eyes, seeing the brilliance and the life there—the life Jessica wanted to extinguish. He remembered Damon's words. He wouldn't keep her in the dark. No more secrets.
"Amber, I need you to trust me," he said, leaning in so his voice wouldn't carry over the water. "We aren't safe out here. Jessica has crossed a line we can't uncross. We're going inside."
He paused as he thought about the design of her house – windows instead of walls – and he realized she was not safe there. Before he could regroup mentally she spoke.
The "Plain Sister" vanished, replaced by the Biochemist. Her eyes narrowed, as they inadvertently scanned the tree line around them.
"The lake house doesn't provide the cover we need. Let's go to your house."
He looked at her, even as they moved to his car. "Our house." She was right. The mansion was much more secure than the lake house. As he panicked she kept her head. He smiled as he felt renewed pride in his wife.
Several states away, Anthony Shaw casually walked to his expensively customized SUV. He opened the back and a compartment opened revealing several types of weapons and odd metal items. His eyes roamed over each meticulously and then he closed the back.
He was dressed rather casually, in expensive designers. He took a deep breath, stretched, and got in the SUV and prepared for his cross-country trip.
He owed Jessica quite a bit. If she wanted her sister's life as payment, he was happy to settle the debt.