Chapter One
As the ferry docked on Bainbridge Island, a grey Volvo immediately exited without waiting for direction, then recklessly drove up the winding tree-lined road. The woman behind the wheel continually looked in her rear-view mirror horrified—she was being followed! She sped up, then quickly turned right onto a dirt road. Glancing at the small package on the passenger seat she knew she only had a short amount of time to get rid of it.
About a mile up the road, at the top of the hill, she came upon a small cottage— 1825 Larkspur Lane. She looked in the rear-view mirror again. The SUV wasn't behind her. Realizing time was running out, she hurriedly put the package in the mailbox and tucked it underneath a bunch of flyers out of sight. The SUV was just rounding the corner onto Larkspur Lane when she hit the gas! Her heart raced and she prayed she hadn’t been observed.
Gripped with fear, she swiftly turned the car around and glanced inside the SUV. She saw the driver. Trevor looked like a cliché from a cowboy movie, wearing a cowboy hat and although it was dark, he wore sunglasses. There was a cruelness in his grin when he looked at her in that split second. He chuckled as he made a complete 360, caught up and swerved in front of her, causing her to slam on the brakes.
Suddenly the SUV passenger jumped out. Terrified, she was yanked from the driver's seat, dragged out of her car, and thrown into the SUV! Trevor’s right-hand man Reddy quickly slid into the driver’s seat of the woman’s car, then followed the SUV towards the ferry.
*****
“No!” Drenched in a cold sweat, her heart pounding a mile a minute, Kirsten bolted upright in bed. She quickly turned on the nightstand lamp, eyes darting around the room frantically as if an unseen entity was still lurking in the shadowy corners, waiting to pounce. It took a couple of minutes to realize where she was. The nightmare seemed so real, yet somehow familiar. She tried to understand the hazy emotions that lingered in the aftermath of complete panic and the sense that something very evil had made its presence known once again. Her cat, Tobie, kept staring at the corner of the room opposite her bed as though something was there.
“What do you see princess?” Kirsten slowly slipped out of bed; eyes still glued to the corner. She picked up Tobie and gave her a kiss. “It’s okay girl. My little protector,” she cooed. It was just after 3:00 a.m., and with her adrenaline peaked she knew there was no sense in even attempting sleep, so she grabbed her robe, and climbed down from the loft, with Tobie following close behind. She walked into the kitchen of her cozy cottage to get a bottle of water and glanced out the living room window towards the harbor below.
Though it was still dark, she could see the twinkling lights of the ferry dock and the break in the waves beyond. Stars filled the night sky, the full moon cast shadows like a veil for whatever was underneath it. Kirsten stepped onto the porch in the chilly air to stargaze. It was the one thing that soothed her mind whenever she felt anxious or alone, as if she were looking towards a far-off land, she could almost grasp, yet it remained out of reach. She always had a knowing deep within her soul that something was missing. Her entire life she felt she was born for some bigger purpose but could never quite put her finger on it. Her thoughts drifted back to the nightmare.
“I haven’t had one like that since I was adopted,” she said to herself, flashing back in time. At the age of eleven, Kirsten was adopted by Sean and Helen Kelly, a couple who unfortunately couldn’t have children of their own. Oddly, she couldn’t recall anything prior to the day they took her home from the Seattle Children’s Orphanage. Although she was timid at first, she felt how much they loved her and soon their home became hers.
While most children in the same position might suffer an occasional nightmare for various issues, Kirsten was plagued with them for over a year after she was adopted and she hadn’t thought about any of this for a very long time.
The Kellys doted on her, giving her every opportunity for success. However, they soon learned she had a different way of viewing the world. With an inquisitive nature, she questioned everything, and it drove them crazy! While most kids asked, “Is that the moon?” Kirsten would ask, “Are you sure that’s a moon? How do you know?” It baffled her teachers and at times she was even forbidden to ask any questions because she would hijack the class from the lesson, taking them down whatever rabbit hole she dug. Luckily, she never allowed these obstacles to learning bother or deter her as she knew there was much more to the world.
This is one of the reasons she became a Private Investigator. The tenacious, 5’1” auburn-haired, green-eyed spitfire wore her motto, ‘Never Give Up’, very well. Although her fledging Investigative Agency was just a year old, she had been a Criminal Investigator at one of the Public Defender offices in Seattle for over a decade, working felony cases including robbery, assaults, fraud, and homicides. Her supervisor, Vern Henderson, had become a mentor and really encouraged her dream to become her own boss. Kirsten did what she always had and jumped in with both feet. Although it was a lot of responsibility, she loved the flexibility, taking only the cases that would help those in need.
The brisk October air felt good on her face as she took in a deep breath to clear her mind. The familiar scent of wood burning in the atmosphere always catapulted her back to her childhood this time of year. Nostalgic memories of hanging out with friends as they rode their bikes through the neighborhood, picking apples from the tree in the backyard, choosing pumpkins at the local pumpkin farm and pulling out the horror flicks as Halloween rolled around, flooded her mind. Autumn was her favorite time of year, not to mention—her 30th birthday was just a week away.
As fog slowly rolled in from the harbor, the wind suddenly whipped through the porch, and a chill went down her spine. Although she dismissed it, little did she know it meant something sinister was about to uproot her entire life.
*****
Later that morning, coffee in hand, Kirsten Kelly walked on the Bainbridge Island Ferry passing those with bicycles and exiting their vehicles. She made her way up to the deck, and though it was 45 degrees, she tightened her coat, then leaned on the railing at the bow of the ferry. The twenty-minute glide across the water to Seattle always seemed to invigorate her before a busy day. Taking a sip of coffee, she went over her schedule in her mind. First on the agenda … a quick meeting with Vern, then over to the courthouse to do extensive research and obtain records for a client.
Seagulls filled the air, diving in and out of the ocean and gathering their breakfast. With the majestic Space Needle in the distance, the Emerald City sparkled in the morning sun and the foliage of changing leaves sprinkled the landscape on either side of the ferry in an array of fiery red, orange, and yellow. Kirsten stepped into the ferry and sat down, looking out the window. Closing her eyes, she drifted back into the nightmare she’d had the night before…
“Kirsten!” A small voice called to her with such terror, that it shook her to the core.
She instantly opened her eyes, then looked around thinking a child called her name, however, this was not the case. Once again, she felt unnerved, as if unseen eyes were boring into her. She dismissed the notion and anxiously awaited to reach her destination.
The ferry docked so she made her way downstairs and walked the five blocks to Vern’s office at The Public Defenders, located in the Bank of America building on Fifth Avenue. Upon reaching the elevator, she ran into her friend Sue Borrelli, one of the Investigators she used to work with. At 45 years old, Sue carried her age well and most thought she was much younger. Her dark hair and olive-toned skin showed her Italian roots well.
“Hi Kirsten! Are you up for lunch today?” She asked getting into the elevator.
“Sorry not today. I’m meeting with Vern and then I’ve got to do some research and get some documents for the Johnson case at the courthouse. But let’s meet for drinks? How about 5:00 p.m. at Hong’s?”
Sue nodded her head. “Sounds good. I’ll put the word out,” she added pressing the elevator button as the doors closed.
Kirsten passed the receptionist, Pam Jackson. The 24-year-old always dressed in the latest trends, with fingernails so long Kirsten wondered how she managed the switchboard. Originally hailing from New Orleans, she usually had a pack of tarot cards in her bag for any emergency and her thick southern accent suited her vibrant personality.
“Hi Kirsten,” she greeted in her thick drawl. “Going to see Vern? He’s in his office,” she informed buzzing her in.
“Thank you, Pam.”
Kirsten smiled as she headed down the hallway to the corner office. Most of the lawyers were already in court, so she passed by numerous empty offices cluttered with case files on either side of the long hallway. She knocked on the door to Vern’s office.
“Enter,” a husky voice bellowed from within. Kirsten opened the door. “Oh, it’s just you Kelly,” Vern chuckled. Kirsten gave a slight grin.
Vern had been the first African American Detective at the Yakima Police Department and the only one to solve his best friend’s murder. In fact, well-known True Crime author Ann Rule actually wrote a book about it called ‘Fever In The Heart’. A very humble man, he never liked to talk about it.
After retiring from the police department, he worked for the United States Department of Justice, Yakima Division as a Fraud Investigator. He had retired from that position eleven years ago, when the Public Defender’s office recruited him to be the Criminal Investigator Supervisor. Kirsten was his first hire.
At first Vern’s gruff, no-nonsense demeanor made her nervous, but she soon learned it was just a cover as underneath he was a big teddy bear, protective over his small crew. Kirsten was green as an investigator yet had great innate instincts and a talent for literally cutting through BS to find the truth. Her instincts were sharper than anyone he ever worked with, so Vern decided to take her under his wing. Thanks to his tutelage, she developed into his best investigator. Though he was sad to see her leave the Public Defender’s office, he knew it was time for her to spread her wings.
“Come on in honey. What’s going on?” Vern motioned for her to sit.
“I just wanted to stop by and say hi.”
“Since when have you ever wanted to just say hi Kelly?” Vern quipped. “Spit it out!” He knew her too well.
“Okay. I have a client who is looking for information on a RICO case and I figured since you used to work for the U.S. DOJ Office in Yakima, and still do consulting with them, you might pull some strings.” Kirsten immediately scrunched her face, afraid he might say no.
Vern shook his head. “Spill the details. What’s the case number?”
“I really appreciate this. Thank you!” Kirsten gave him the information, then headed to the clerk’s office at the King County Courthouse to do some digging of her own on an unrelated case. By the time she had finished doing her research in the archives, it was 4:30 p.m. She gathered the paperwork, then headed to the International District to meet the gang at Hong’s, a hole-in-the-wall bar in a Chinese Restaurant. It was their usual hang out, where lawyers and investigators from the Public Defender’s office met to have a few drinks, chat about their cases, and let off steam.
The gang included Nate St. Clare, Kirsten’s boyfriend, who worked for the Prosecutor’s Office, Sue Borrelli and her boyfriend Roger Picararo, their friends Victoria Frier and Luke Gillis, Kirsten’s right-hand man at the agency Scotty Wilson, and finally Kirsten’s best friend Andrea Wade, whom she’d met in the fifth grade, and Andrea’s husband Ted.
Hong’s was one of the oldest Chinese Restaurants in the International District, which served incredible food. The two-story building had red and gold dragons hand painted on the walls, and a huge Buddha in the entryway, as well as a fish tank that held a variety of colorful fish.
Kirsten walked into the small, dimly lit bar to the rear of the restaurant’s first floor and saw the gang had already commandeered the large red leather booth in the corner, as well as the table next to it.
“The usual?” Lee, the bartender, asked upon seeing her walk in.
Kirsten nodded. Her usual was Captain Morgan and Diet Coke. The group had been going to Hong’s for a couple of years, so Lee usually had their drinks ready before ever ordering! Nate was sitting in the corner of the huge booth, so Andrea and Ted let her slide in.
“Hi Honey,” Nate greeted. Kirsten leaned over to give him a kiss as he took her hand. They’d met while at a Private Investigator conference in Winthrop, Washington, and had been dating a little over a year. She was standing in line to get an espresso when he accidentally spilled his all over her flowered skirt. The moment their eyes met it seemed as though they had known each other forever. At 5’10,” his Aussie accent, shoulder-length dark hair and chiseled physique stirred something new and powerful in Kirsten. She loved how safe she felt in his arms, it was like she knew him way before they’d ever met. Since then, the two were inseparable.
Nate worked at the City of Seattle Prosecutor’s Office as an Investigator, responsible for ensuring victims and witnesses were lined up for trial. Before moving to the United States, he had been in the Royal Australian Air Force, recruited at fifteen years old. He moved to the United States and became a citizen years later. His experience and knowledge of investigations from a prosecutor’s point of view helped Kirsten from time to time.
“Hey mate,” Nate waved over Luke who sauntered in after a tough day in a homicide trial. “How’s the case going?”
“Brutal,” Luke replied with exhaustion in his voice as he plopped down next to Nate. Nate motioned at Lee who immediately brought Luke Foster’s beer. “I have to tell you mate, I don’t know how you can defend that murderer,” he pointedly stated.
“Sometimes I wonder myself. There are a few issues, but I’ll be happy when it’s over,” Luke groaned.
“Here you go,” Lee handed Kirsten her cocktail.
“Thanks, Lee.” She took a sip and then handed him her debit card.
Lee motioned towards Nate. “Already got a tab going,”
Scotty, who was sitting on the far end of the table, threw back a swig of his beer. “What are you two up to this weekend?” He directed at the duo.
“Kirsten and I are just going to take it easy. I’m heading to her place tonight and then who knows?” Nate said taking some peanuts from the complimentary bowl on the table.
“I spoke to Vern this morning,” Kristen informed Scotty. “He’s going to get us info on that RICO case.”
“Great. That will help a lot,” Scotty returned.
They ordered a few appetizers and chit-chatted for about an hour, then Kirsten looked at her watch.
“We’d better go hon. There’s another storm coming in tonight and I don’t want to be on that ferry when it hits!” Kirsten and Nate said their goodbyes, then walked to Nate’s truck. The temperature had dropped ten degrees by the time they made it to the ferry dock, and leaves rustled as another huge gust swept through.
One of the first in line onto the ferry to Bainbridge Island, they parked and went up to the deck. Kirsten and Nate sat next to one of the windows and she leaned into his chest, happy to finally be alone. She closed her eyes again. A few moments later she sat up as though startled by something.
“Are you okay, Love?” Nate asked with concern on his face.
Kirsten quickly looked around, then settled back down. “I, I, I’m fine,” she lied.
“You’re shaking.” Nate held her close. “What’s going on?”
Little did Nate know that she had no idea what it was, but knew something wasn’t right. Why was she seeing parts of the nightmare every time she closed her eyes? It was as if someone or something seemed to be beckoning to her again. Not wanting to alarm Nate, she decided to keep this to herself.
“I’m okay. Just chilled,” she responded settling back into his chest.
Twenty minutes later the ferry docked on the island, so they went back to the truck to wait to be directed off.
Kirsten loved to people-watch. She usually tried to imagine what their lives were like, where they hailed from. As she looked to her right, she took notice of the driver of a grey Volvo. Kirsten guessed the blonde was in her 40’s, and she nervously kept glancing in her rearview mirror, looking all around.
“What’s up,” Nate asked as she turned to look out the back window to figure out why this lady seemed so nervous.
“Nothing.” Though she was still a bit curious as to why the woman seemed so anxious, she gave it no more thought. The ferry finally finished docking and just as the ferry worker was about to remove the barrier, the Volvo gunned it! The ferry worker jumped out of the way and screamed at security, who came running from the terminal at the docks! Everyone watched as it took off at a high speed quickly exiting the parking lot.
“That was strange! Do you see anything?” Kirsten asked Nate.
He looked through the rearview mirror but didn’t notice anyone or anything out of the ordinary. “I knew something was off about that lady! She kept looking in her rearview mirror as if she was searching for someone or maybe she was being followed.”
“Really? I think if someone was after her we would’ve noticed or she would’ve told ferry security,” Nate surmised. “Maybe she was in a hurry to get home or there was an emergency.”
Kirsten continued to survey the area. “Maybe.” While that was a possibility, her Spidey senses were peaked and somehow, she knew there was more to the incident than met the eye.
After such an abrupt interruption, the officials held off on allowing vehicles to unload, though walk-ons and bicyclists were permitted to leave. After a twenty-minute delay, security finally started to direct vehicles off the ferry.
****
The Metropolitan Market was buzzing with energy as Kirsten and Nate entered. “This place is packed,” Nate commented observing the crowds.
“It is Friday night so I figured it would be busy. What do you want for dinner? I could go for halibut myself.”
“I’m not sure,” Nate said taking her hand. He led them to the Seafood department, then the meat counter. As he contemplated dinner, Kirsten went to look for wine and settled on Chateau St. Michelle Reisling. By the time they left the grocery store, the predicted storm had rolled in. They quickly loaded the truck, then made their way toward her cottage on Larkspur Lane.
Nate masterfully navigated the winding road lined with huge oak trees on either side, as falling leaves and huge drops of rain hit the windshield in a fury. Ten minutes later they pulled into the driveway. Groceries in arms, they rushed into the house just as a clap of thunder sounded overhead. Tobie jumped off the windowsill as they entered, frightened by the clap of thunder that permeated the atmosphere as they hurried in.
“Wow! I guess the weather guy finally got it right,” Kirsten commented, shaking her wet hair as she hung her coat and scarf on the farmhouse bench. “He wasn’t kidding when he said a big one was headed our way.”
The cottage décor had a mix of vintage and country, with several pieces of antique furniture sprinkled throughout. Kirsten loved the open floor plan, which made the 900 sq ft cottage with a loft look bigger. The floors were original to the cottage, dark-stained pine wood throughout, and in the living room, a country pine light blue and white pinstriped couch faced the wood-burning fireplace. An old oak wood trunk from the late 1800s served as a coffee table. The 50” television screen hung above on the wall adjacent to the wood-burning stove, with built-in cabinets on either side, creating much-needed storage space, as well as a place for the DVD player and stereo. One of Kirsten’s passions was collecting Coca-Cola memorabilia and she had turned her kitchen into a little 1950s café. The kitchen, to the right of the living room, had a long counter that acted as a bar with 50's style, red and chrome stools. She had a small square, 50's style chrome table with four red cushioned chairs in the little breakfast nook. black and white checkered tile was featured in the kitchen, with one wall painted a deep red. Several Coca-Cola collectibles were dotted throughout, including numerous framed vintage Coca-Cola ads from the early 1900s up to 1955. But her prized possession was a vintage 1950 Coca-Cola machine. It used smaller, glass Coca-Cola bottles and had a door to the right that opened to pull them out. It was rigged so no money was necessary. The only thing missing was a 1950's jukebox.
Nate took his coat and boots off, then carried the bags of groceries into the kitchen. He always felt comfortable in the cottage, welcomed from the moment he stepped inside. Even Tobie seemed to immediately take to him, which was strange because cats usually didn’t.
“Wine?” he asked looking in the drawer for a corkscrew.
“Definitely. Check the second drawer hon,” Kirsten directed, taking wine glasses out from the white-washed 1890’s country-style hutch before she began to unpack the groceries.
Nate was an excellent chef and Kirsten was more than thankful as her cooking left something to be desired. In fact, she rarely used the kitchen until she met Nate. As he started to prep his steak, he opened the fridge looking for A-1 steak sauce and was appalled at what he saw. “Kirsten, look at all this junk food! Bolonga? Canned cheese? Seriously, who still eats this?” he said picking up the cheese can. “I don’t know how you’ve survived eating all this processed crap!”
“It’s just easier to do cheese and crackers or grab a Coke, but now I have my own personal chef,” she added with a giggle.
“It’s a miracle your body functions and can take all that junk. You need to start eating healthier,” he cautioned.
“You’re lucky I’m eating a salad commandant!” She shot back with a smile.
A little annoyed at Kirsten’s laid-back attitude about her health, Nate decided to drop the subject. He prepared her Halibut and his Rib Eye Steak while Kirsten put a salad together. Once done she put it on the table, grabbed her wine, and sat on the couch as Nate finished cooking. Tobie hopped on her lap, purring.
“How’s my princess today?” she caressed her behind the ears.
Tobie was a birthday gift two years ago. Her mother just showed up on her 28th birthday with this tiny little ball of fur! Having always been a dog person, she didn’t know if she even wanted a cat but immediately fell in love with the little Tabby kitten. The runt of the litter, Tobie quickly bonded with her mistress as if it was meant to be. Tobie was always very skittish around everyone except for Nate, which seemed incredibly strange to Kirsten. The only other person she ever showed her face to was Kirsten’s mother. Otherwise, she spent her days in the loft while Kirsten worked. Even her own father had never seen but a glimpse of the tiny feline in the last two years!
Kirsten took a sip of her wine. “How was your day,” she asked.
“Busy,” Nate answered. “I’ve been trying to track down the victim on an assault case, but we are at a dead end. The police are anxious to get this guy behind bars but as with most domestic violence cases, the victim is dodging us. Unfortunately, it’s a revolving door in this type of situation. I’m sure she’ll resurface the next time she ends up in the ER,” he solemnly added taking the Halibut out of the oven.
“I remember those cases. Heartbreaking. It’s a tough cycle to get out of because most victims don’t know there is a way out,” Kirsten sighed. She shivered a little bit. “I think I’ll make a fire.”
Nate chuckled. “Make a fire. When was the last time you actually made one with paper and wood?”
Kirsten grabbed an Enviro log. “Hey, whatever works! You know I’m the worst at trying to get a fire going from scratch. But if you want to show me how it’s done big guy, go for it,” she poked.
“No, by all means,” he motioned. “What would we do without instant fire logs? My how we’ve evolved as a species,” he laughed. “From rubbing two sticks together to 21st century technology,” he said rolling his eyes.
While Kirsten lit the fire log, Nate finished cooking and grabbed a couple of plates from the cupboard, placed the food on the table and doled out salad.
“What do you want to do this weekend?” he queried cutting into his steak.
“I’m not sure. It’s supposed to storm all weekend. I’ve got a couple of things to do on the Johnson case, but other than that, maybe catch a movie?” Kirsten took a bite of her Halibut, then salad. “This is so good,” she complimented. “Who knew I’d end up with a guy who can cook.”
“It’s a good thing, otherwise we’d starve if I left it up to you.”
“Ha, ha, ha Mr. St. Clare,” she threw her napkin at him. “Tobie and I got along just fine without your culinary skills.”
“Oh, I’m sure your microwave misses that Lean Cuisine,” he returned, both laughing at the poke.
They finished dinner, then sat on the couch in front of the fireplace with their wine.
“I wonder how the playoffs are going,” Nate posed grabbing the TV remote.
The Yankees and the Seattle Mariners were in game seven of the baseball playoffs, the outcome of which would decide who went to the World Series. “Bottom of the 8th inning. We are one run ahead. If we can hold them in the 9th, we’re in!”
Kirsten realized she forgot to grab her mail on the way into the house, so she slipped on her flip-flops and using her coat like an umbrella, dashed out to the row of mailboxes located about ten feet from the bottom of her driveway. Although the wind had died down, the rain felt like sharp needles as she hastily ran to the end of the driveway. She grabbed the stack of mail, then sprinted back into the cottage.
“Wow! It is really raining hard out there!” She hung her coat and put the mail on the kitchen table. As she rifled through the stack, she saw a small 4x4 box wrapped in brown paper with a string around it. There was nothing on it—no address, no stamps, nothing to indicate who sent it or where it came from. She noted the package was fairly heavy as she carefully cut the strings and unwrapped it without ripping the paper. Kirsten slowly opened the lid, squeezing her eyes half shut, almost afraid of what might be inside. She held her breath, then let it out surprised to see a gold coin.
The coin was double the size of a half-dollar, with a thickness of four quarters. On one side, Kirsten immediately recognized the Pyramids of Giza, a star sat on top of The Great Pyramid. The other side had a bunch of palm trees depicted with a river that ended at the Sphinx. Kirsten didn't know what to make of it, but the markings along the edge of the entire coin looked like hieroglyphics.
“Dammit! Bases loaded!” Nate yelled at the T.V. “Mariners can never seem to hold it down in the ninth,” he whined. When Kirsten didn’t say anything, He turned to see her examining the coin. “What’s that?”
She turned it over and over, looking at the markings. It was so unique. She had never seen anything like it before. “I’m not sure,” she answered handing it to Nate. “Look at the packaging. Just brown paper, no postage or address on it.”
“I’ve seen these coins at Pike’s Market. It’s a novelty coin,” Nate recalled. “Though it’s heavier than any of the coins I’ve seen. Look at these markings,” he pointed out.
“Appears to be much older than any novelty coin,” Kirsten commented.
“Was there a note or anything?” Nate asked handing the coin back to her.
“No. Nothing.” Kirsten got that fluttery feeling in her stomach again. Her entire life she had always been able to sense when something huge was on the horizon. She knew there was much more to this coin and felt something oddly familiar about it. She held it in her hand and closed her eyes. Flashes of land much different than her own flooded her mind. Lush green forests, a huge waterfall, and what appeared to be a small settlement that overlooked an ocean in the shadow of a mountain. Bits and pieces of pictures, places, and a feeling that she was connected to this coin funneled through her entire body as if she were energetically melding with the ancient piece. It was one of her gifts. She had always been able to touch items and get impressions. However, this was a very intense, much stronger perception. Kirsten opened her eyes. She immediately went to the computer and started to research the coin.
Nate intently watched. He was curious to know what she was seeing in her mind’s eye and if she would remember, it was the key to everything.
*****