TWISTED SHADOWS

PROLOGUE

Boston, 1968

She was running for her life. And the lives of her children.

She clutched the twins, one in each arm, her purse slung on her shoulder. A cab. She had to reach a cab.

She knew she would soon hear footsteps behind her. Heavy. Hurried. Her guard—her husband’s guard—would discover she’d left the doctor’s office through another door. His life would be as much at risk as her own if he failed. If he lost her.

This would be her one and only chance to escape her husband. She knew that. If she failed, he would kill her. He would find out what she knew—to whom she had given information—and then dispose of her as his family had disposed of irritants before her.

Fear eddied in her stomach. Her breath was short from both terror and the exertion of carrying two eight-month-old babies, their necessities and the largest purse she owned. It contained everything she could carry without giving away her intention. Unfortunately, that did not include a weapon.

Nick squirmed, protesting her protective hold. For a moment, she feared she would lose her grip. She stopped, balancing him on her hip, getting a stronger hold on him. In a moment he would start wailing. That would probably inspire Nicole to do the same. Each always followed the other’s lead. They reached out for each other when separated. They seemed to take comfort in each other’s company.

A loud wail now would be disastrous. She cooed quietly to him, frantically trying to balance the two heavy babies.

She started down the steps again, trying to run without dislodging the two children. She feared the elevator. She could be trapped in an elevator. No, the stairs were safer. She’d spent days considering her options, the best escape route. And, hopefully, preparing safeguards. But her husband was unpredictable. He would be so angry, he wouldn’t care that his actions could send him to prison. Or send the policeman who served the family to the electric chair.

She heard a door slam above her.

Joey. Such an innocuous name. But he was not an innocuous man. He was a made man, a man who had killed before. That she was a woman would mean little to him, particularly since his own life might well depend on his stopping her.

One more floor.

She was wearing tennis shoes which made no noise. She had purposely been hitting tennis balls just minutes before returning to the side of her twins. Then she’d used a heating pad on Nick’s and Nicole’s faces to simulate a fever.

Her husband was out of town. So was her father-in-law. When she’d screamed that the children were sick with high temperatures, she’d finally won permission to go to the doctor. he’d been to the pediatrician before. She knew the offices. She knew a way out while her so-called bodyguard remained in the waiting room.

"Bitch!" Joey’s voice roared down the stairwell.

She could see the door below her. She moved faster than she thought possible, balancing Nick again as she grabbed for the knob and jerked the door open.

Nick wailed loudly.

Another curse echoed from the stairwell as she ran across the lobby. Please God, let the cab be there.

She’d called from a nurse’s station, ordering a cab, promising an extra fifty if it waited outside the professional offices for a woman with two babies. If it wasn’t there. . .

She darted between people, bumping one. "Taxi waiting," she muttered, then made the door. She turned to see Joey busting out from the stairwell door.

Nicole started wailing too. Tracy knew that every eye was on her. She’d already started thinking about what she would do if Joey caught her. She would yell ‘kidnap’. If some brave good Samaritan. . .

And if there was gunfire? If she caused an innocent’s death. . .?

Someone entered the revolving doors, and she jumped inside one of the partitions. Then she saw the taxi. Waiting in front of the building.

She ran for it. Nick almost fell as she pulled the door open and lurched inside, dropping her son on the seat and locking the door.

"Go," she screamed.

She heard Joey’s voice behind. "Stop, dammit!"

The cabbie turned to her.

"Go," she said again, even as she heard the waver in her voice, even as clutched the babies closer to her. "For God’s sake, go."

He hesitated, then stepped on the pedal and darted in front of an oncoming car.

A horn blew long and hard.

The cabbie swore.

Tracy Edwards Merritta sat back and tried to calm a screaming Nick.

She struggled to take a normal breath, then looked back. Joey was frantically trying to wave down another cab.

"Where to, Lady?"

"Filene’s, please. Side entrance." The department store wasn’t far from the Boston MTA. She would go in one door, depart another and disappear the crowd.

Nicole stared at her, thumb in her mouth. Nick complained loudly.

But they were safe.

For the moment.