Through the darkness, p.1
Through the Darkness, page 1
Through the Darkness
Erin O’Reilly
2014
Back of the Book
Becca Cameron is a loner—by choice. She lives in a hundred year old farmhouse built by her great grandfather. A tragic accident in her home a year earlier drove away her lover, and Becca tries to accept what she cannot change and hang on to the belief that love can conquer all.
Chase Hunter, had a meteoric rise in the Eastman Corporation and was, at thirty-four, the youngest vice-president. To Chase, her work was all consuming leaving little time for friends or lovers. There was simply no place in her life for anything but her job.
When Becca and Chase meet at their work place, the attraction is spontaneous. Life begins to look brighter for both women as work takes a second seat to romance.
Unknown to either woman, someone is watching their every move…
Will passion outweigh doubt? Can love conqueror fear?
Torn Deep
Copyright © 2014 by Erin O’Reilly
Smashwords Edition
All rights reserved.
ISBN: ePub 978-1-927282-30-4
ISBN: PRC 978-1-927282-32-8
ISBN: PDF 978-1-927282-31-1
First Edition
PDF, ePUB, PRC
Published: December 2013
This book is Published by
Affinity eBook Press NZ LTD
Canterbury, New Zealand
E-mail: affinity@affinityebooks.com
Editor: Nat Burns
Cover Design by Helen Hayes
Photo Credit: Bill Long Photography
* * *
This work is copyrighted and is licensed only for use by the original purchaser and can be copied to the original purchaser's electronic device and its memory card for your personal use. Modifying or making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, without limit, including by email, CD, DVD, memory cards, file transfer, paper printout or any other method, constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions.
* * *
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Acknowledgements
First, I want to thank Julie for all her help getting this story off the ground and advising me every time I couldn’t think of where to go next.
Secondly, I want to thank Mary Hettel for reading this manuscript and pointing out where I needed to change things.
Next, I’d like to thank Nancy for volunteering to read the final copy.
Thank you Nat for your excellent editing.
Finally, I’d like to thank Affinity eBook for publishing Through the Darkness.
Dedication
For Julie and Nancy
Even in my darkest moments, you both have been there for me.
Other Books by the Author
Revelations
Deception
Fearless
’55 Ford
Fractured
Specter of Fear
Wolf at the Door
Sandcastles
Written With JM Dragon
Earthbound
New Beginnings
Atonement
Quest on Behalf of Love
Echoes of the Past
Paradox of Love
The End Game
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
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Epilogue
About the Author
Other Books from Affinity
Chapter One
People often chided Becca Cameron for making the thirty-five mile drive one-way to get to her job in Denver but she’d given up listening to them. She actually relished the silence or maybe some soft classical music after a hectic day of being a project manager’s personal assistant.
She flicked on the high beams as she traveled down the darkened highway toward home. It was fall, rutting season for deer and she knew that at any moment a deer could come dashing out of nowhere and across the road.
Once her car climbed to the top of the final rise, she saw a flashing yellow light in the distance and beyond that, the bright lights of an overpass. She would be home in less than fifteen minutes, barring any deer darting in front of her truck.
Becca’s eyes fixed on the flashing yellow light, knowing that the roadway that justified the warning light was little more than a right hand turn onto a dirt road rutted by rain. Twice a day she passed under the light and looked down Hanging Tree Lane. Often she would find herself pressing the brake pedal and creeping past the thoroughfare, intrigued by the silent, seemingly neglected road. The pull she felt to explore the road farther was, at times, so overwhelming that she had to grip the steering wheel tight so as not to follow that path not taken. Tonight though, she sped on by, barely giving it a glance as she concentrated on the flashes of lightning in the distance.
†
The sheer power of the loud claps of thunder startled Becca as she turned down the dirt road that led to her home. Once she’d pulled into the garage, which was also a shed, Becca quickly collected her briefcase, purse and lunch bag before dashing the fifteen feet to the porch. Just as she stepped a foot on the wraparound porch, big sloppy drops of rain began to fall.
The click of the door behind her made Becca sigh happily as she dropped her belongings and crouched down to greet her dog, a cockapoo named Georgette.
“Home at last, girl.”
She listened to the rain pelting the porch roof. “And, just in time it would seem. How was your day, Georgie? Did Gwen spoil you rotten again?”
She stood and closed her eyes as the smell of polish, wood, and beef stew filled her nostrils. Georgie ran past her as she was walking to the kitchen and sat in front of the stove with her stubby tail wagging.
“Yum, that smells delicious.”
Becca pulled open the oven door, put on a kitchen mitt and carefully pulled the cast iron Dutch oven out before settling it on the stovetop. Her mouth was watering as she lifted the lid and saw the scrumptious meal.
“There’s enough here for lunch tomorrow, too.”
Georgie was sitting by her side, thumping her tail, and whining.
Becca laughed. “You’re spoiled and I shouldn’t give you a piece of this but I will once it cools off.”
After getting a glass of Pinot Noir and a sizable slice of the bread that Gwen had baked, Becca made her way to the table with her bowl of stew, listening as the rain turned to softer drops.
“Once it stops, I’ll let you out one more time.”
She blew on a chunk of meat before tossing it to her dog.
†
In the deer stand a mere fifty yards away, a figure studied the house. The housekeeper never set the alarm so it had been easy to gain entry once she left. The meal cooking on the stove had smelled wonderful and the watcher had added a few extra herbs and spices to the stew.
Luckily, Georgette was laid-back. They had met on many occasions and the dog did not consider the visitor an intruder.
With quick purpose, the stranger had climbed the stairs two at a time, then opened the door at the top of the staircase. After lifting the mattress, one sachet had been removed and a different sachet of herbs placed in the center before the mattress was lowered and the covers smoothed.
Back at the front door, the watcher had looked around the interior. Once satisfied that all was as it should be, the intruder had walked outside. The sky with frequent lightning and thunder caused the watcher to run for the deer stand where it was dry.
From the perch, the figure had concentrated on the darkness of the dirt road leading to the house, willing Becca to arrive home before the rain started. When the headlights brightened the dark night, the watcher had let out an audible sigh of relief.
For the next two hours, vigilant eyes watched the house as Becca moved about. When the light in the upstairs bedroom went on at nine, just as it did every night, the watcher knew it wouldn’t be much longer before Becca finished her nightly ritual.
At first, it had spooked the watcher when Becca stood at the window and appeared to be looking right at the deer stand. But this had happened every night for the past year and the watcher now knew to wait until Becca placed her palm on the windowpane and closed her eyes. Then, within a few minutes, the light always went out.
Then, as every night, thirty minutes later, the watcher climbed down the deer stand’s ladder and followed a narrow path toward home.
Chapter Two
Becca smiled but didn’t open her eyes when she heard the sound of Massenet’s “Meditation” from Thais nudging her gently awake. She knew she had until Delibes’s Flower Duet finished to lay there and enjoy the music. It had been a long time since she’d slept so deeply and the nightmares that usually frequented her night hadn’t materialized. Becca was at peace with herself and the world.
That’s an odd feeling, she told herself.
Georgette bounded onto the bed and began prodding Becca with her cold, wet nose.
“Not yet, girl. The flower hasn’t played yet. You know you can’t go out before we hear the woman sing.”
Not long after, Becca was making her way down the stairs to open the back door for her dog. While Georgette romped in the walled in yard, Becca poured herself a cup of coffee, grabbed a banana and sat on one of the kitchen chairs. The sense of peace still surrounded her and for the first time since the accident, she could remember what had happened and not have the sinking feeling that her life would never right itself.
Her eyes tracked to the wall clock and noted it was six o’clock and still dark outside. Georgie was scratching and barking at the door.
When Becca opened the door, the dog bounded into the house, skidded across the floor to her food bowl, and sat with her tail thumping on the floor.
“Don’t worry, girl, I won’t forget to feed you.” Becca ruffled the dog’s head as she poured some dry dog food in the bowl, then filled the water bowl.
“There you go, all set for the day. Now, if I don’t get a move on, I’m going to be late for work and Mr. Douglas won’t be happy with me.”
†
The morning was glorious and Becca savored every moment of the peace that the good night’s sleep had brought her. Driving toward the east, she watched as the sun began its slow journey above the horizon. Blue, the color of robin eggs, mixed with purples and darker blues before the entire sky turned white, just before the sun heralded the new day.
Becca pushed the visor down just as she came to the flashing light and Hanging Tree Lane. No one was behind her, so she stepped on the brake and stopped. Rain from the night before dotted the weeds, making them seem to shine like diamonds as the newly risen sun’s rays fell on them. In an instant, the moment was gone and Becca smiled.
“One day I will put my truck in four wheel drive and see what’s down there,” she told herself.
Her phone rang and Becca pushed the Bluetooth button.
“Becca Cameron.” She glanced at the clock—six-forty-five.
“Where are you?”
“I am on my way in now, sir. I will arrive at seven thirty, which is my usual time.
“I don’t care about that, Cameron, your hours are what I tell you they are.”
“I believe that when I started working for Eastman, HR told me my hours are from eight to four, Mr. Douglas.”
Becca gritted her teeth.
“Your responsibility is to be here when I am and not when you feel like arriving.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Douglas, I already give the job two hours of free time. What more can you possibly ask of me?” Becca felt her shoulders stiffen.
“If you want to continue being my personal assistant, Cameron, I suggest you set your hours accordingly.”
Becca bit the inside of her cheek to keep her anger in check.
“Mr. Douglas, I suggest that if you want me to work more than the required eight hours—please note that I work more like ten hours a day for you—then you should find a way to pay me for the extra hours.”
“Ten hours or eighteen hours it makes no difference to me. I want you here when I get in.”
“In that case, you may want to find someone else for the job. My contract specifies that I work eight hours a day for the salary I receive. Perhaps I should go to HR and see what they can do.”
“Don’t you threaten me, Cameron, it won’t bode well for you if you do.”
The connection ended abruptly and Becca punched the hands free button to disable it before she growled. During the past three years that she had worked as Douglas’s PA, they had the same discussion at least once a month.
“I won’t let him ruin my good mood.” Becca said aloud, smiling. “I don’t know what changed to make me feel this way, but I won’t let Mr. Sourpuss ruin my day.”
†
With a smile still on her face, Becca checked her watch as she stood in front of the elevator doors waiting for them to open. Unless the elevator stopped in mid-ascent, she would be in her office at her usual seven-thirty. The traffic was so light; she’d thought for a moment that it must be a holiday.
When the doors opened, Becca made her way to the back of the elevator and waited for others to crowd their way into the small enclosure. She chuckled silently as a hand held open the elevator doors just before they closed. It never failed that the same woman would always just get to the elevator car right before it closed. The woman was nondescript and dressed in a bulky brown overcoat, making it difficult to tell if she was lean or chunky. The woman always stood in front of the row of floor buttons with a knit cap pulled on her bent head making eye contact with no one.
As the elevator ascended, people got off and eventually it was just Becca and the odd woman left.
“Have a good day,” Becca said, just as she did every day, when the chime sounded for her floor.
And, as always, she had to strain to hear the woman’s whisper. “You too.”
†
Jim Douglas, her immediate boss and the project manager for Eastman was on Becca just as she inserted her keycard into her door’s lock.
“Finally, you’re here. Have you forgotten that we have a meeting at eight-fifteen?”
His face was beet red and Becca saw veins popping on his neck.
Becca smiled and nodded as she unlocked and pushed her office door open.
“No, I haven’t forgotten, Mr. Douglas. If you will give me a moment to get settled, I will give you the up-to-date data you will need for your presentation.”
“You should have given that to me yesterday, Cameron. Now you’ve left me with only a short time to prepare.”
“Did you check your email?”
“Why would I? I expected all the information I needed on my desk two days ago,” he sneered. “I’ve told you repeatedly how I want you to deliver information to me yet you still do it your way.”
Douglas stepped closer to Becca.
“I am the boss here not you, Cameron. Is that clear?”
“Abundantly.”
Becca took a step back.
“You were out of your office and I thought the information was too sensitive to just put on your desk. So, I sent you all the details just after lunch yesterday and I put the hard copy in the Knox folder in the filing cabinet in your office. Had you read your email, you would have found all the information you needed.”
“Just be in my office to brief me in two minutes,” he ordered. “Incompetence will not be tolerated, Cameron. You are not in some satellite office. You’re at the corporate headquarters and damn lucky to be here. If you don’t stop your careless ways you will find yourself out of a job.”
He turned away only to turn back around.
“There are lots of unemployed PA’s out there who’d do your job how I want it done,” he said. “It’s something for you to think about, Cameron.”
†
Becca watched the man leave and could feel a crack in her good mood—one that was threatening to expand.
I can’t believe that I spent all those years earning my MBA to end up some nincompoop’s lackey. I can’t wait for this project to end so I can take some days off, she thought angrily.
