Cast a Pale Shadow - By Barbara Scott Page 0,5

chosen. But he supposed there was enough screaming done around here to make the soft voice be the one that got noticed.

"Sometimes it's easier that way," Cole admitted. "Say, I see you're finally starting that afghan you promised me."

"Go on with you. You never told me your colors." Mrs. Hayes held her hand over the keys at her waist to quiet their jingling as she led him down the hall.

"Brown to match my eyes, don't you think?"

"Hmmm, maybe a shade to the chocolate side, I believe." Peeking into the barred grid of the door, she said as sweetly as a maid announcing teatime visitors, "Mr. Brewer, your son is here." There was no response. "The guard is on his coffee break. I'll stay within earshot until he returns. Call if you need us." She patted Cole on the arm before locking him in the cell with his father.

Two chairs, a bed, and a gray metal wardrobe were the only furnishings in the room. Duncan sat with his chair facing the window, except when seated, he was too low to see anything but the sky through the bars and glass. He made no move to acknowledge his son, and Cole had learned over the years it was best not to touch him. He moved the other chair a few feet closer to the adjacent wall and sat watching his father.

"Pop, it's Cole. I came to tell you I'm moving." Cole always paused as if expecting a reply, though, of course, he didn't. But he found it easier to run these conversations as if they were two-sided, framing Duncan's probable responses in his mind and continuing as if he'd actually said them. It made no difference if his father had not said a civil word to him in fourteen years. Cole knew well enough what he would say.

"Yeah, again. Grand Rapids didn't work out for me." Anyone listening might assume they were hearing one end of a telephone call.

"I'll be headed for Myrtle Beach next. Probably too far away for me to visit much." He searched his father's face for any faint trace of regret but found only his implacable, placid stare, a look Cole always interpreted as disapproval.

"I know it would be better if I got a steady job, but I can't seem to work that out for myself.

"If your only surviving son is a bum, I'm sorry. I may be responsible for the bum in me, but it was you who managed the only surviving part.

"Forgive me, I didn't come here to throw that in your face. I only came to say goodbye." Cole allowed himself to be deceived by a light from the window or a drift of air from the radiator that caused Duncan's eyelid to flutter. He wanted to think it was voluntary. He stood and reached a hand to his father's shoulder.

With lightening speed and vice grip strength, Duncan clamped his wrist and squeezed until Cole felt the tendons crunching. Drawing him down to eye level, Duncan growled, "Why ain't you dead, boy?"

It was Cole's turn not to answer. He merely concentrated on not flinching or pulling away and met Duncan's hateful glare until he released him. When he finally did and returned to his impassive state, Cole moved away from him and called for the guard.

As he stood at the door waiting for him, he asked in a voice bereft of all emotion, "Why am I alive, Pop?"

Chapter One

Three years later

Nicholas

A thin streak of brown charring snaked across the paper, and Nicholas could no longer make out the signature or the hugs-and-kisses X's and O's Beth had scrawled across the bottom edge. It didn't matter. He knew the whole letter by heart now. A tongue of flame licked at his finger, but he held the rose-scattered stationary for a moment longer until the corner floated away in cinders. Dropping it, he watched it drift toward the fire, then vanish to ashes. Like Beth. She was too hot for him to handle. And she had known it as well as he had.

Nick Sweets,

Gotta go. Sorry but it would have never worked. Hayley Mills needs me in Hollywood. Seems she can't make a move without me. Ha Ha. I took all the money I could find and the ring. Don't look for me. I'm with Mitch. He wants me. And he seems a little less scary than you sometimes.

Ciao, Beth

P.S It wasn't yours, you know.

Beth. Wild Beth. With her sweet, little-girl-lost looks and her wanton ways. Beth

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