Shadow Dancer (Shadow, #1)



Somehow, Jenna believed that in order to crack Tristan's case, she would have to crack Catherine's too. I hope I'm wrong. Jenna climbed the stairs, passing the generations of photographs that hung on the wall. When she finally reached the landing she paused, taking in the floor plan and determining where to check first.



*



Fog drifted off the mountain and lingered over the valley as the last drops of rain fell from the dark sky. The sun made several futile attempts to shine down upon Fox Hollow but was met with great resistance. Escaping from the negative energy inside, Blake Morrow sat on the porch steps of the Morrow Manor as a dark mood overcame him. Distraught with fear and worry over his sister’s disappearance, Blake placed his hands over his knees as his eyes burned with tears. He could not hold back anymore. While everyone else argued, pointed fingers, and answered questions, Blake found himself overwhelmed with heartache.



The sun set over the mountain top as fog danced over the tree line. From the mouth of Cavegat Forest, the sound of rustling leaves and branches cracking could be heard. Blake looked up to the forest opening and what he saw made him do a double-take. Standing in the shadows of the forest was a figure staring back at him. The figure’s face was hidden by shadow caused by the dark of the forest and the heavy canopy of trees overhead.



Shocked to action, Blake rose from the porch steps and moved swiftly down the gravel path into Cavegat Forest, his cross trainers skidding down the steep hill. As Blake moved, the figure retreated into the darkness. Where manicured lawn turned to unbridled wildlife, Blake paused to take a breath before entering the forest. Blake didn’t take entering Cavegat Forest lightly. He feared what lay beyond in the deep woods, especially in the dark. Having gotten lost in the forest once, he was not especially keen on entering it again, and Tristan wasn’t there to save him this time. But he would enter for her.



Though some sunlight remained, it was cloaked by storm clouds. In the forest, Blake could only see a few feet in front of him. Heart pounding, Blake stepped into the forest as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. He could not see the figure anywhere. But where his eyes failed him, his ears would guide him. In the distance, he could hear wings flapping, and directly to his right, the rustling of leaves continued.



Blake looked up the path where the figure was last seen. As he began to follow the dirt path, he was stopped, dead in his tracks. A black raven stood in his path. The bird peered up at him, curious and unafraid. In an instant, the raven spread its wings and took flight, circling around Blake’s body thrice before landing on a nearby fallen tree. From its mouth hung an old key adorned with a red satin ribbon. Blake recognized the key immediately. An ancient skeleton key made of bronze with the likeness of a Victorian-era woman’s face on the grip. He had seen this key before. It hung for many years on the wall of his father’s study, and he was warned often never to touch it. How on earth did the bird get it? Blake wondered.



Blake cautiously reached for the key as the bird delicately dropped it into his palm. The dark bird gave Blake a strange glance and flew off into the forest. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a dark figure standing in the clearing of the forest, but when he turned around there was no one there.



“Blake!” called a voice from behind him, shocking him nearly out of his skin. Blake could not move, still recovering from his brush with the creepy forest.



“Dude,” said Adam calmly as he put his hand on Blake’s back. “Are you okay?”



Blake shook his head, but all the color had been removed from his face, minus the red scrape that now appeared on the left side of his face from scraping it against a sharp tree branch. Liam helped Blake up from the ground and brushed off his khaki coat.



“DiNolfo is ready for you now.”



*



Blake sat in a rickety wooden chair at the end of an isolated hallway, awaiting Sergeant DiNolfo's line of questioning. She did not keep him waiting long, and for that he was grateful; his nerves on edge, like razor blades just below the skin, threatening to push through.



“Blake, my name is Sergeant DiNolfo,” Jenna announced as she held out her hand to shake. Blake shook it politely, keeping his eyes on the floor. The wheels in his head were turning, distracting him from his usual courteous nature. “I just need to ask you some questions.”

Blake nodded his head in understanding.



“When was the last time you saw your sister?”

“Last night, just before bed.”

“What time?”

“I don't know.”

“Estimate.”

“Like 9:30?” guessed Blake.

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