Chasing Shadows Read Online Free PDF

some kind of genius.
    The Mustang passed St. Augustine's and Grace Lutheran churches with their shared Nativity scene.  Christmas Day everyone in town would crowd into one or the other, even those not of the religious persuasion, and at noon precisely, the children of Coalton would parade out from the church doors and escort Baby Jesus to his proper place in the Nativity.  
    Jay would miss that, he'd been a part of the procession when he was young, still felt the sting of tears when he watched with the grownups as the children, faces earnest and joyful, sang "Away in a Manger".  
    One thing he wouldn't miss was the combined high school and middle-school across the street, "Home of the Fighting Miners".  
    They drove toward the graveyard where his parents were buried.  Even Old Man Sinderson wouldn't say that Sally and Hank Westin deserved the fate that befell them Christmas Eve last year.  One of the Kleindeist boys, underage and drunk on Everclear, plowed into them going close to ninety miles an hour.  He'd emerged, wobbly but unscathed from his car.  The Westins never had a chance.
    "Want to stop?" KC asked as the field crowded with marble markers came up on their left.
    Jay averted his eyes, blinked hard.  Earlier today he'd tried to say goodbye to his parents, to Diana, the older sister he'd never known.  He'd ended up just sitting there like a zombie, feeling sorry for himself.  He didn't like thinking about stuff like death and what lay beyond, but in the last two months he'd been forced to face the very real possibility that one slip and Bruno Gianotti would have him killed.  
    If there was some kind of life after death or any sort of decent god, then he hoped maybe his parents were still looking out after him from wherever they were.  Maybe they were the ones who sent him KC and his chance for a new life.  
    "S'okay.  We're late anyway."
    Except for the Korn now blaring from the radio, there was silence until they reached the neighborhood where Neil Gianotti, Jay's best friend since sixth grade, lived.  At the end of the street there was one really big house set back from the plain old Cape Cod's and ranches where regular folks lived.   
    The mansion was Neil's house.  Mrs. Gianotti had split years ago.  Mr. Gianotti ran a moving and storage company, was on the road a lot—at least that was what Jay had thought until two months ago.
    KC's house was next door, she'd only moved in last month, and he parked in the driveway of her Cape Cod.  Neil's father didn't like strange cars crowding his drive.
    They crunched through the snow and headed to Neil's back door.  KC's Doc Martens left deep impressions in the snow despite the fact that she was pretty skinny.  Not thin in a bad way like some of the girls at school who acted like they'd explode if they actually finished a meal.  KC loved to eat, just she was always moving, as if she'd be too good a target if she sat still too long.
    Jay swallowed against a wave of nervousness.  He'd have to learn how to live with that feeling of having a constant target on his back.  Learn how to not let anyone get too close, not trust anyone with the truth.  
    No more best friends like Neil.  Maybe no more friends, period—how could you call yourself a friend if you couldn't tell the truth?  His stomach did a small flip-flop as he thought about leaving Neil, trying to say good-bye without saying good-bye.   
    KC had told him a little about what to expect, how to handle it, but they both knew he'd have to find his own way of dealing with the jitters.  The loneliness.  And the guilt.    
    KC's way was to box.  She'd pound on the heavy bag Chase left behind until sweat dripped from her spiked hair and her muscles shook with fatigue.  Jay had never told her, but sometimes when she worked out, he'd watch from across the basement as he lifted weights, and he thought she looked really sexy then, right at the point where she worked up a frenzy, chasing her