The Man in The Shadows

PROLOGUE: As Jessica begins her search for answers, every step brings her closer to a truth she isn't prepared for. Will she survive the nightmare—or will the dark forces that took her mother’s life claim her as well?

Jessica ran from the house, her heart pounding in her chest, never daring to look back. Inside, the man who had just killed her mother and destroyed everything she held dear was still there. The living room once filled with love and laughter, was now a crime scene—ransacked, twisted, and drenched in the aftermath of murder.

What had driven him to kill? What was he searching for in her mother's home? With no answers and her world torn apart, Jessica's only promise to herself was that she would uncover the truth. No matter the cost, no matter how dangerous the path ahead, she would seek vengeance, even if it meant risking her life to expose the terrifying secrets buried in the shadows.

Chapter 1: The Muderer in the House

It was a cool fall day when Jessica returned to Georgia to visit her mother and consider relocating. Her job paid well, and she was now able to work from home, or from any location for that matter. She liked being on her own, but her mother sounded almost desperate to have her visit.

Jessica got out of the grey Honda and waved at her mother.

“She looks frail.” Jessica thought to herself.

Fran Bowden was a small woman with high cheek bones and dark eyes. Her long auburn hair cascaded down her back. Jessica looked at her mother and smiled.

“Hi mom.” She looked at her mother’s hair and snickered.

“I guess you are never going to cut that mop, are you?” she queried.

Fran looked at her daughter with a mixture of delight and sadness. “God gave me the ability to grow it, I plan to keep it. Please do NOT have it cut when I die. “Both women laughed.

Jessica carried her small overnight bag into the farm house and set it near her old bedroom.

“Got any coffee?” she asked.

Her mother handed her a cup and said, “I knew that would be the first thing you asked.”

Jessica could sense something in her mother’s voice but decided it might simply be exhaustion. Since Jessica left the farm five years earlier, her mother struggled to maintain the orchards and animals. Jessica felt a pang of guilt rise in her chest. She knew her mother would never leave the farm. She had asked her on many occasions to sell and move into the city with her. Her mother loved the farm, and made it clear she would die on the farm. She wanted to be buried under the red maple tree in the side yard.

Fran looked at the small overnight bag and her brow furrowed.

“I thought you would be staying a few weeks.” She nodded toward the bag.

Jessica followed her gaze. “No, mom, I have to get back to work. I am here for the weekend. “Was the matter of fact response.

The ladies walked out to the front porch. A lovely wrap around that had seen many years of parties, morning sunrises, and girl talk between Jessica and her mother. Sometimes Jessica longed for the farm life again. She loved to ride the horses, and even enjoyed gardening. Her life in the city was all about her job. It was a good job. It paid well. But her mother had warned her that money is not the thing that brings happiness.

As the women sipped their coffee, Jessica fidgeted with her car keys.

“Mom,” she started, “You asked me to come see you, and you seemed to be in a state when you called. What is going on that you couldn’t tell me over the phone?” Jessica was worried.

Fran touched Jessica’s arm and smiled.

“Don’t fret about it right now. Let’s just enjoy the cool breeze and drink our coffee. There is time to talk about things this evening.” Jessica relaxed, thinking it must have been sheer loneliness on her mother’s part that instigated the call.

As evening settled over the farm, Jessica walked to the barn to feed the horses and chickens, her mother’s careful efforts to downsize the animal population now evident. With only a few chickens, two well-trained riding horses, and a lone steer in the pasture, the farm had become more manageable—but not less meaningful. The steer, no doubt destined for butchering come fall, was just another part of Fran’s commitment to self-sufficiency. Fran always took pride in raising her own meat and growing every vegetable herself, often lecturing on the dangers of store-bought produce laden with chemicals and additives. Jessica couldn’t help but agree—there was something undeniably special about the fresh crunch of her mother’s homegrown vegetables. Yet, with the orchards in need of trimming and mowing, Fran always called on the neighbor to help with the fruit trees, maintaining that same careful balance of independence and community.

Jessica had to admit there was nothing like the fresh taste and crunch of the vegetables her mother grew. The orchards were in need of trimming and mowing. Fran always had the neighbor help her with the fruit trees.

As Jessica stood by her mother's side, the evening light bathed the farm in a warm, golden glow. Her voice was gentle but curious, “How come Barney hasn’t pruned the trees, Mom?” Fran paused for a moment, her gaze drifting towards Barney’s farm in the distance, her eyes clouded with unspoken thoughts. She sighed, the weight of the past year evident in her quiet voice. “He had a mild heart attack last fall and told me he couldn’t help anymore,” she explained softly, the sadness lingering in her words.

Jessica felt a pang of sorrow for Barney, a man who had been like a father to her after her own father left when she was just eight. Barney had been a steady presence in her life, teaching her the delicate art of pruning the trees, showing her how to care for the land with patience and precision. He had always been kind, always willing to lend a hand to Fran, and always there when Jessica needed guidance. The thought of him sick, unable to continue his work, hit Jessica harder than she expected.

For a moment, she was lost in thought, wondering if this was the real reason her mother had wanted her to come back home. The pull of nostalgia and a longing to reconnect with her roots tugged at her heart. “Perhaps I should go see him while I’m here?” she mumbled, a quiet resolve building within her.

Her mother’s gaze softened, and a slight nod accompanied her words, “I think that would be a fine idea.”

Jessica smiled, the weight of the decision lifting. “I’ll go after breakfast and chores tomorrow morning, then,” she responded, her tone firm, as if it was already a promise made to herself.

Jessica and her mother retired early that evening. Both women were tired after a long day. Jessica went to her room, unpacked her small overnight bag, and pondered the day.

Why had her mother really wanted her here? What was the itch Jessica could not seem to scratch? She felt as though her mother was hiding something from her, but she could not put her finger on what it might be.

She shook her head, as if to remove the lingering doubts.

"She probably just needs my help on the farm for a few days." she mused to herself.

Someone in the Shadows

Jessica awoke suddenly to the sound of furniture crashing in the living room. As she opened her bedroom door, she could see the movement of a flashlight casting eerie shadows on the walls.

Jessica slowly crept toward the living room. Although dawn was approaching, all she could see was the shadow of tall man stumbling around the living room searching for something. Jessica squinted trying to get a better view of who it was and what was happening. She wanted to call out to her mother, but if Fran was asleep and was wakened suddenly, it could create a much worse scenario.

The man retreated into the kitchen and Jessica took that moment to grab her cell phone and dart out the back door of the house. As she passed the living room, she saw her mother on the floor in a pool of blood. She inhaled sharply and caught herself, she could not be discovered in the house. Whoever killed her mother would certainly not think twice about killing her as well.

Jessica ran down the lane toward the barn. She quietly opened her car door, and slumped down where she could not be seen.

"911, what is your emergency?" the dispatcher inquired.

With a shakey voice, Jessica replied, "My mother has been murdered, and the man is still in the house." Jessica let out a small whimper, knowing she had to remain as calm and as quiet as possible so she would not be discovered. She quietly put the keys to the car into the ignition in case she had to make a swift getaway.

The dispatcher continued to ask Jessica for the address.

"The Sheriff is on his way. Do not try to confront the person in the house. Are you in a safe place? " She asked.

Jessica responded that she was hiding in her car. She also told the woman that there was a white Ford pickup truck parked on the roadside, at the head of the driveway. She suspected that it belonged to the intruder.

The dispatcher told her to remain and calm and stated, "I will stay on the phone with you until law enforcement gets there. Just lay low, and try not to make any sound."

Jessica whispered, "Oh my God! He just walked past my car. I think he is leaving."

TO BE CONTINUED...