The Summervale Series, page 25
“Are you okay, miss?” asked the cab driver.
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. I just got a text from my best friend. It’s nothing.”
“Well, okay then. We’ll be at the hotel in a few minutes.”
“Thank you.”
When we eventually pulled up at the hotel, I paid the driver as he retrieved my bag from the trunk, giving him a tip. Then after I checked into the hotel, I quickly made my way up to my room. Once inside and alone, I sat on the bed and put the phone on a loudspeaker.
“How is this possible?” I asked.
“I don’t know. It’s not. Dylan is dead. We saw him die.” Stacey was crying now.
“Yeah, there’s no way that little punk could be haunting us from the grave. I’m mean, we’re his friends,” said Ashton.
“I don’t know what to say. I mean, the note says ‘Did you miss me?’ Who else could it be if not for Dylan?”
“Your dad? Could he be sending us messages from behind bars?” asked Ashton.
“I don’t know. I wouldn’t put it past him, but how would he know where you guys are?” I wondered.
“Maybe he has spies. I mean, he was working with Melody Carmichael until he decided he’d had enough of her and killed her,” stated Stacey.
“True. And a possibility. Until something else happens, hang tight. Call me if something does happen, okay?”
“Okay. Thanks, Darcie,” said Ashton.
“No problem.”
“Hey, what are you going to say to your brother when you see him?” asked Stacey.
I was about to speak when she continued. “You’re not gonna say, ‘Hey, I’m Darcie Ryder, and I’m your half-sister. Our father is a serial killer,’ are you?”
“Um… well…”
Stacey swore. “Darce, you need a solid plan. You can’t go and stalk the poor guy and then dump this bombshell on him.”
I sighed. There went my only solid plan.
“Fine. Then what do you suggest I do?”
“Ease into it. Ask to meet for coffee in a public place.”
“Stace, I’m not meeting someone for a blind date off the internet.”
“You practically are. Please, don’t do anything… you would normally do. Think first. I know you can. I have faith in you.”
“Okay fine. I love you.”
“Love you.”
When we hung up, I looked at the photo again.
There’s no way it could be Dylan haunting them from the grave. Could it? And it couldn’t be my father. Could it? I pushed my hand through my hair and sighed loudly.
Perhaps I’m going crazy. I needed fresh air. And food. I jumped in the shower, then dressed in jeans and a sweater and went out to explore Seattle.
nine
THE NOTE
ASHTON
Growing up in Summervale, in a family such as mine, you went to your private ski chalet in Aspen every winter and your beach house every summer. My parents had sold our chalet here in Aspen a few years ago, and I had since been cut off from my trust fund. But now I was working for a record label. This writing break was on their dime, and Stace and I had been able to book a private room in one of the most exclusive ski resorts in Aspen.
It should have been the perfect escape for both of us, after what we had been through the past few years, with our friend being killed, Stacey being charged with her dad’s manslaughter after he abused her for years, and my family cutting me off. Then there’s also the reign of terror in Summervale we barely survived due to Darcie’s father.
We thought we were safe.
But here we were, thrown back into the mystery again with the appearance of the note pinned to our bed with a blood-covered knife.
Did you miss me? Stacey read the note aloud for the thousandth time while pacing the floor of our apartment. “Who could it be? It’s killing me.”
“Stace, I’m going to rent a snowboard and shred those slopes outside. Maybe you should come with me.”
“I can’t ski or snowboard.”
“I’ll teach you. Come on. If you stay here pacing like that, the note really is going to kill you.”
We had left the crime scene exactly as we had found it. But it was the only bed in the small apartment, and we had to sleep in it at some point.
“Okay. But maybe we should get a new room. Or clean this up first. Housekeeping might find it.”
“I’ve told them I don’t need housekeeping services. It’s fine.”
“Yeah, but Ash. I’m not sleeping in that bed. We can’t, with the knife and the blood and the serial killer note.”
He sighed. “Fine. Then we’ll clean it up ourselves.” I walked over and pulled out the knife. The note, written on thin notepaper, fluttered to the floor. The blood had since dried since we had left it for quite a while. It was the next morning. We found the note last night and had been awake ever since.
Stacey sighed. “I guess I’m on washing the doona duty.” She pulled the doona off the bed and took it to the bathroom, throwing it in the tub. She then walked to the minibar and took out all the bottles of vodka.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Removing the blood. I’ve done this many times after my father hit my mother or me or got himself injured in a bar fight. Mom and I had to clean up after him. Alcohol removes blood.” She poured the vodka over the stains on the white doona and then took the knife from me, which I still had in my hand. Next, she carefully scraped off the thicker, dried parts of blood with the knife’s blade. The dried flakes fell into the tub. She hung the bloodied part of the doona over the edge of the tub, and then taking a washcloth doused in more vodka, she dabbed the bloodstains until they were gone. She then took the wet doona and hung it in front of the fireplace in our apartment, hanging it over the dining chairs.
“There. Now let’s go skiing. And then I need a large burger or a steak and sex. Not necessarily in that order.”
Speechless over what my fiancée had just done, I let her take my hand, and we headed down to the ski rental shop.
I stood on the top of the mountain, holding my snowboard. Stacey knelt a little ways behind me, making a snowman. I smiled. It was so lonely but beautiful up here. It was like we were the only people on earth.
It was then that a tune popped into my head.
Followed by the whole vision of an album.
“Holy Shit, Stace!”
“What?” she looked up from her piece of snow art, squinting into the snow-white glare.
“It all just came to me. The album, the single. The cover art. The marketing, branding, the colour scheme. Everything. And it’s all thanks to you. You’re a genius.”
She set down the ball of snow she had formed and blinked in confusion.
“Um… that’s great, babe. But what did I do?”
“The blood. All you did was clean up the bloodstain. Inspiration hit me like a tidal wave. I need to get back to the apartment right now!” I threw down my snowboard and flew down the slopes, leaving Stacey behind.
“Oh… okay, but I wasn’t finished with my snowman.”
ten
THE MEETING
DARCIE
I had been debating how to initiate the meeting with Declan, my half-brother. I didn’t want to come off as a creepy stalker. His grandmother had warned me about pulling him into this world, my world, my father’s world. But I had to. I had to get to know him. He had to know me. He had to know who our father was, even if he was an evil bastard.
Declan’s grandmother hadn’t given me an address, phone number or anything to try and contact him.
But my sleuthing skills were the best, according to Stacey and Dane. So I managed to track him down on a social media site.
From what I could tell, he didn’t have many followers, and his profile was set to private. But I friend-requested him and hoped for the best. I mean, what else was I supposed to do to gain access?
Whilst I waited for him to accept my request, I explored the city. It was a harbour city. It was rainy and humid. I was sweating by the time I reached the markets, which was one of the best places to visit, according to my internet search.
As I browsed the aisles of the indoor market, which wasn’t as busy today as it was a weekday, I also browsed social media and tried to look at Declan’s photos and whatever other information that was available to me.
He was creative with a camera. I gave him that. There were a few images of him in a hoodie standing in nature. Him hiking. He always had a hood over his head and always wore dark clothing. He also always used creative social media filters over his pictures. There were a few comments where he was tagged that I could see without being his friend, where people told him he should make a separate account for his photography. But he always brushed them off humbly.
I smiled. At least he seemed humble and hadn’t been gaslighted or influenced by a narcissistic parent.
Could I really pull him into my world?
Could I really change his life?
A million scents suddenly hit my nostrils. I inhaled. I could smell a bakery filled with freshly baked goods that had my mouth watering. I could also smell seafood, which I turned up my nose at. Eww. I hated the smell of fish.
In Summervale, I had steered clear of the marina and the boat ramps as much as I could. But sometimes Dane would come home after cleaning boats smelling of fish, and it instantly turned me off. I always made him go shower and scrub himself twice. I turned away from the seafood and headed toward the bakery.
I ordered a chocolate-filled French pastry, and as I was waiting, Declan accepted my friend request.
“Yes!” I exclaimed, a little too loud. People walking by and shopkeepers looked at me strangely then kept walking. I ignored them. I was used to strange looks.
I was this pale, gangly, small girl with long dark hair and dark eyes. I probably looked a little scary, a little morbid, like Wednesday Addams. Stacey had offered to give me a makeover a billion times over, but I always refused. I liked how I looked.
Just as the shopkeeper handed me my fresh, warm pastry, Declan messaged me.
“Thank you,” I muttered and hurried off to find a seat so I could chat with Declan and eat my pastry.
DECLAN: Hi
ME: Hi! How are you?
The chat started normally, but his second question sent my stomach spinning into my throat. My heart pounded.
DECLAN: You’re my sister, aren’t you? You’re HIS daughter.
I was speechless. How did he know? His grandmother said he didn’t know anything. I quickly typed back.
ME: Yes, I am. How did you know? I met your grandmother. She said you didn’t know anything about him or what happened to your mom.
As he wrote his next message, I nibbled on my pastry, but I couldn’t concentrate nor eat. I was far too excited. Holy crap. He knew! The question was, how much?
DECLAN: My grandmother likes to see the good in everybody. To her, I am still the same little boy she used to garden with, whom my grandfather taught to drive. She told me that you found them. But I am not that kid anymore, and they don’t know me. Not really. Can we meet? Where are you?
Holy shit! He wanted to meet me face to face.
ME: Yes. I am in Seattle. At the markets right now.
DECLAN: Excellent. I actually work nearby. Meet me at the base of the observation tower in half an hour.
I smiled and stuffed the rest of the pastry in my mouth. I couldn’t believe I was about to meet my half-brother.
eleven
THE COLLEAGUE
BOBBY
I walked into work the next day to find it was particularly quiet. There weren’t many people in the station, and my dad was nowhere to be seen. I know he left earlier for work, but he didn’t tell me what he was working on. I shrugged it off to the fact that something must have happened and figured I’d know sooner or later and headed to my desk. As I was only a probationary constable, I was given all the lowly jobs, such as paperwork and testing people for drugs and alcohol on the side of the road, especially near the yacht club. I was yet to catch someone under the influence coming out of the club myself but had been told it was a hotspot. I sat down at my desk and was excited to see no paperwork to fill out or no files to put away. I smiled and took my camera out of my backpack, and decided to go through the photos from the last crime scene. I had to upload them to my computer, enlarge and enhance some of them, and then print them out. I pulled out the memory card and stuck it into my laptop to upload when I heard a door creak in the distance, followed by footsteps. I didn’t think anything of it. I focused on loading the photos until the shuffling footsteps stopped nearby, and I heard a voice.
“Hey, Bobby.”
I froze, and my tummy flipped. I turned in my swivel chair to see the hot new guy standing about a foot behind me. He wore jeans, paint-splattered sneakers and a Marvel T-shirt with headphones wrapped around his neck.
“Oh, hey, Adrian. I didn’t think anyone was here yet.”
“I’ve been in the darkroom. I wanna show you something.”
I froze. “There’s a dark room?”
Adrian laughed, a dimple appearing in one cheek. Bobby’s tummy flipped again. He had the sudden urge to reach out and run a finger over that dimple. He was so cute. He shook off the thought. No. he couldn’t go there. He was at work, and they were both new. He couldn’t jeopardize their jobs.
“Yes. I thought you knew that being a photographer.”
“Yeah, but my camera’s digital. I don’t need a dark room.”
Adrian held out a hand. Bobby looked down at it.
“Come on. Once you see the beauty of developing photographs the old-fashioned way, you won’t wanna go back.”
I smiled and took his hand as he led me toward the darkroom.
When the door opened, I stopped as I couldn’t see anything.
“What’s wrong?” he asked from somewhere in the dark nearby.
“I can’t see a thing.”
“Oh, sorry. I’m used to it.” He flipped a switch as a red light turned on, and I could see once more.
The darkroom was bigger than I imagined, with several plastic tubs at the back and a clothesline hanging above, lined with photos drying. On the right, computers and other photographs lined the walls. Most were crime scene photos, but some weren’t. They were nature shots of Summervale.
“Did you take these?” I asked, gasping in surprise.
“Yeah. This is what I wanted to show you. Your town has so much beauty, but you can sense the dark underbelly.”
All the pictures were black and white. There was the lighthouse with the Circle, the main street of town, our school, and then the marina and the mouth of the river and mangroves.
“They’re beautiful, and um… you’re right about Summervale. There is a dark underbelly. It’s literally been built on secrets.”
“I can sense it. Everywhere. Even in you.”
I gave a start as I realized he stood incredibly close to me. I held my breath. He took a step closer, and I automatically leaned back into him.
“Really?” I asked breathlessly. “You sense darkness in me?”
“No. I sense sadness.”
I stepped away and turned around to face him.
“You’re right. My… my boyfriend was murdered two years ago. We had just barely gotten together. And then he was taken from me. But before that, he was my best friend. We were in a band together. I miss him so damn much.”
He smiled, and I could see the sympathy in his gaze. He reached out and stroked my cheek. It took me by complete surprise. I couldn’t move.
“I’m sorry for your loss. Have you… um… dated anyone since?”
“Uh… no. I… I loved Dylan.” I cleared my throat. my heart pounded hard against my chest. “So… what about you? dating anyone?”
He bowed his head, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
“No. Not really. I mean… I had a thing back home in Ohio with a teacher… it was illegal, and um… that’s why I had to leave.”
I gasped. I didn’t know what to say.
I wasn’t the only one with secrets, and that made me proud to know.
“Anyway, I thought I loved him, but he was leading me on, seducing me and taking advantage of me and my free labour. That’s another reason why I left. Anyway, my heart hasn’t been up to seeing anyone yet. Besides, no one has quite measured up. Until now.”
He smiled when he said the last part and looked at me.
I gasped and met his gaze. I smiled and asked him about the rest of the photographs, and then he showed me how to use the developer and the rest of the equipment. Perhaps our hearts would mend eventually. Maybe we would help each other heal.
twelve
THE DARKNESS
DARCIE
My brother appeared in a cloak of darkness. Dressed in a hoodie and carrying a professional camera, dark hair fell into his dark eyes. He smiled when he noticed me standing at the entry to the famous observation tower of Seattle.
“Hi, Darcie?” he asked as he approached, taking out his headphones and slipping off his hood.
“Yes. It’s so nice to meet you, Declan.” I smiled and then added, “Brother.”
He flushed and laughed nervously.
“Come on. I thought I could show you the sights while we talked.”
“Sure.”
He led the way inside the tower. After he purchased our tickets to the observation level, we rode the elevator up into the building.
The elevator ride was fast, only taking a few seconds to reach the observation level, but those few seconds were the longest in my life. I took a peek at my half-brother. I couldn’t believe I was standing next to the only other person who shared blood with my father.
