Chapter Nine
Shanna was happy with the progress she’d made on her new series of paintings. She’d sketched quick outlines of the original structures on four different canvases from the picture book that Wes had found for her months ago when she’d first been considering the idea. Shanna would complete the painting of the house with the basement first, since someone had purchased the property and was living there now. More than likely, the place couldn’t be used by Wes’ accomplices anymore, so she’d complete that portrait first.
Questions always ran through her mind. She’d wondered at first why someone from the organization had never purchased the property since it had been for sale. Wes had unintentionally given her that answer the other day without her even having to ask why.
Supposedly, former FBI agent Jake Loughlin constantly scoured the town for signs of trafficking, because occasionally, someone from Wes’ organization slipped up. But there was always someone new who came along to replace the screw ups, even though their efficiency had been slipping through the years because of having to replace the many traffickers who’d been caught.
Shanna glanced at the clock on the wall. It was getting late, and Wes would be arriving soon to pick her up so she could plug her next round of artwork at the mall in downtown Crystal Rock.
She’d painted a series of watercolors depicting many of the local landmarks as well as several successful businesses that had been around for years. This kind of artwork appeared to be pretty popular with the local merchants, so she’d kept on painting them in abundance. Not only were they easy to crank out, but being productive kept Wes from thinking she was slacking off while she worked on her oils. Just because he’d didn’t appear to have eyes on her now, didn’t mean that it wasn’t possible for him to set up a living situation that would be much more uncomfortable for her if he had reason.
She stood, squinting her eyes as she studied each of the canvases. The structures all looked good proportion wise. She’d begin mixing the oils sometime tomorrow providing Wes wasn’t planning on another expedition into town next week.
* * *
Dressed in slightly baggy jeans and a zip sweatshirt with a t-shirt beneath, Shanna wore her short brown-haired wig with oversized sunglasses covering her eyes. Her artwork was wrapped and neatly stacked in boxes at the end of the pier. Wes would be happy that she had over a dozen different framed pictures to leave at the mall on consignment.
He appeared to be in a good mood as he drove his cruiser toward the dock, gearing down the motor and coasting expertly alongside.
Wes looked at the boxes approvingly. “You got a lot done since last week.”
“Those picture books really helped me out. It was easier to come up with the images when I didn’t have to rely completely on memory,” she agreed, handing over the boxes to him in the cruiser and stepping inside once they were all loaded up.
“So, I guess it would be helpful if I picked up some other picture books for you?” Wes asked, revving up the engine, but coasting only on half speed through the water, making it easier to converse.
“From what you’ve said, the local images seem to be selling best, but images of lighthouses or other landmarks from the state might sell well. Maybe we should ask the owner of the gallery what people ask for?”
Pursing his lips, Wes nodded. “That’s a good idea. You’re probably running low on paints again?”
She grimaced. “I could probably use some new brushes too.”
“Make me a list. Does that supply catalog I found work for you?”
“It does,” she answered. “You know what else might be helpful?”
“What?”
“They sell carriers for paintings with handles that will protect them when you’re moving them around. Kind of like a large briefcase. It might be easier to use them during rough weather. The gallery owner can frame the images with his own stock.”
Wes became thoughtful. “Do they have the cases in the catalog?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll see how expensive they are, but that would work. He said something at the gallery about using his own frames, didn’t he?” Wes asked.
“Yes, and it would save me a lot of time, not to frame the watercolors. Now that I’m going to start working with oils, I’d rather just frame those.”
“Okay. I can work with that,” Wes agreed. “As long as they keep selling.”
“Thank you,” she said.
He looked at her oddly now that she had her sunglasses off. Wes must have sensed her depression. It washed over her at the strangest times. Usually, she could keep her emotions under control, but today she was feeling glum. Plus, she hadn’t been sleeping well, so there were dark shadows under her eyes.
Another twenty minutes later, they walked into the mall, but as they strolled by the window of the gallery, Shanna was shocked to see a familiar face inside.
Quickly, she lifted the box that she was carrying, hiding her face behind it.
“Wes,” she whispered. “There’s someone I know inside the gallery. That woman over there who’s talking with the owner.”
Just like that, he steered her away, and they walked back outside through the front door.
“We can wait around the corner and grab something to eat at the hot dog stand,” he said. “By the time we’re finished, she’ll probably be gone.”
Luckily, it was a nice day, so they could sit outside at one of the tables. But Shanna was worried that Anya might walk right by, so she kept a close eye on the mall entrance.
What was her sister doing here? As far as she knew, Anya had a great job and was working down in Madison. It was amazing how much gossip was available in the town paper that Shanna picked up every time she had the chance. It was distributed for free throughout town, so Wes didn’t object, knowing that she was avoiding people she knew, and following his directives.
Finally, Shanna noticed Anya leaving the mall, having a conversation with the owner of the flower shop, who Anya had worked for back in high school. They both walked by without a glance at the hot dog stand.
Shanna breathed a sigh of relief. She wouldn’t mention it was her sister that she’d seen. Not only had they threatened her mom in the past to keep Shanna in line, but Anya too. More than likely, Anya was just visiting Mom for a long weekend, and would be leaving town again sometime soon.
She stayed calm when they went back into the mall and dropped off the paintings with the gallery owner, who’d been impressed by the number and assortment of scenes.
“These will probably go as quickly as your others,” he said.
“Are there any particular locations that are requested by customers more than others?” she’d asked.
“I’d say that The Dragonfly Pointe Inn tops the list. People seem to have a lot of fond memories of the place,” he said.
“Okay. I’ll try and come up with a few different scenes of other eras. The place has been remodeled a lot through the years,” she observed.
She left Wes to do the negotiations as usual, and when she saw him pocketing quite a bit of cash, she was surprised. Were her paintings really selling for such an exorbitant amount?
But her stomach was churning. Seeing her sister again for the first time in nine long years had thrown her. She hadn’t allowed herself to think about what life would have been like if she hadn’t been handed over to Wes Montgomery when he’d discovered she was pregnant with his child.
Shanna held herself together during the entire trip back to the cabin.
“I’ll give you a call sometime tomorrow if you want to make a list of all the supplies you’re going to need,” Wes said as he coasted into the dock near the cabin.
“Okay,” she answered before stepping out from the cruiser. “You’d better wait until later in the day so that I can go through all my supplies first to see what I’m low on.”
“Alright,” he replied, saying nothing more as he revved up the engine, driving away.
Shanna thought about her sister and how much she’d wanted to run to her and let Anya know she was there.
If only she could go home.
Once Shanna was inside the cabin, for the first time in years, she broke down, falling onto the floor and sobbing uncontrollably.
* * *
Just in case Wes called early, Shanna had made her supply list the night before so she could make a trip in her canoe at first light in the morning. She needed to reassure her mom, even if it meant just leaving her a message on voice mail.
It was a beautiful calm clear morning, she thought, paddling along the edge of the shoreline. Sunlight flickered across the lake as the sun began to rise to the east. She was headed west, back to the house that she’d been at with Wes the other day. With renovations happening, she was sure that someone would more than likely leave a cell phone laying around somewhere.
There was a lot of activity up on the bank, she saw as she steered her canoe to the rickety pier near the cavern opening. Instead of going through the passages, she decided to hike up the staircase. No one would probably pay any attention to her since she was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, and had her hair in a ponytail, with a baseball cap covering her head.
When she reached the top of the staircase, everyone appeared to be busy in the barn which was near the end of the driveway, several yards away from the house.
She was in luck, she realized, glancing inside one of the company trucks that was parked behind several others, with the window down. A cell phone was resting there on the passenger seat. Reaching inside, she scooped it up, strolling at a purposely relaxed pace until she reached the edge of the woods on the property.
Taking cover behind a tree, she switched it on, relieved that it didn’t appear to have a lock screen.
Quickly, she dialed her old number, and when her mom’s voice echoed through the phone, tears filled Shanna’s eyes.
“Mom, it’s me. I’m doing alright. Please don’t try to find me. It could put you in danger, and I don’t want anything to happen to you,” Shanna whispered, switching off the phone.
Peeking around the tree, she was nearly ready to head back to the truck to return the phone, when she saw a man with a familiar face walking out from inside the house onto the porch.
It was Anya’s boyfriend’s older brother. Shanna couldn’t remember his name but seeing him brought back a flood of memories, so she froze.
When he stepped into a truck, revving up the engine and pulling away from the house, she was finally able to leave her hiding place to return the phone.
Another twenty minutes later, she was paddling the canoe and heading back to the cabin. For once, she’d had a little bit of luck with her timing.