What Lies in the Darkness (Shadow Cove Book 1) Read online

  What Lies in the Darkness

  Jessica Sorensen

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2016 by Jessica Sorensen

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

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  For information: jessicasorensen.com

  Cover Design by Najla Qamber Designs

  Cover photo by Mae I Design

  What Lies in the Darkness

  (Shadow Cove, #1)

  By Jessica Sorensen

  Table of Contents:

  LOCATION: EVERLEIGH’S BEDROOM

  TIME: 4:33 PM

  DATE: SATURDAY, MARCH 20th

  LOCATION: MAK’S CAR

  TIME: 5:22 PM

  DATE: SATURDAY, MARCH 20TH

  LOCATION: SHADOW COVE SKATE PARK

  TIME: 6:03 PM

  DATE: SATURDAY, MARCH 20TH

  LOCATION: MAK’S CAR

  TIME: 9:33 PM

  DATE: SATURDAY, MARCH 20TH

  LOCATION: MAK’S HOUSE

  TIME: 9:54 PM

  DATE: SATURDAY, MARCH 20TH

  LOCATION: THE SECRET SPOT IN MAK’S DAD’S OFFICE

  TIME: 11:54 PM

  DATE: SATURDAY, MARCH 20TH

  LOCATION: SHADOW COVE HIGH

  TIME: 7:54 AM

  DATE: MONDAY, MARCH 22TH

  LOCATION: THE SECRET SPOT

  TIME: 8:17 AM

  DATE: MONDAY, MARCH 22ND

  LOCATION: JUST OUTSIDE THE SCHOOL RECORDING ROOM

  TIME: 11:08 AM

  DATE: MONDAY, MARCH 22ND

  LOCATION: MAK’S CAR

  TIME: 11:58 AM

  DATE: MONDAY, MARCH 22ND

  LOCATION: THE MAIN OFFICE

  TIME: 12:11 PM

  DATE: MONDAY, MARCH 22ND

  LOCATION: MAK’S CAR

  TIME: 12:27 PM

  DATE: MONDAY, MARCH 22ND

  LOCATION: MAK’S CAR

  TIME: 3:14 PM

  DATE: MONDAY, MARCH 22ND

  LOCATION: MAK’S CAR

  TIME: 5:14 PM

  DATE: MONDAY, MARCH 22ND

  LOCATION: MAK’S HOUSE

  TIME: 8:47 PM

  DATE: MONDAY, MARCH 22ND

  LOCATION: MAK’S CAR

  TIME: 8:58 PM

  DATE: MONDAY, MARCH 22ND

  LOCATION: MAK’S HOUSE

  TIME: 10:38 PM

  DATE: MONDAY, MARCH 22ND

  LOCATION: MAK’S HOUSE

  TIME: 7:11 AM

  DATE: TUESDAY, MARCH 23RD

  LOCATION: MAK’S CAR

  TIME: 7:49 AM

  DATE: TUESDAY, MARCH 23RD

  LOCATION: SHADOW COVE LAKE

  TIME: UNKNOWN

  DATE: UNKNOWN

  About the Author

  LOCATION: EVERLEIGH’S BEDROOM

  TIME: 4:33 PM

  DATE: SATURDAY, MARCH 20th

  “Hi, my name is Makayla Evingston, or Mak as my friends like to call me. And I’m here to tell you about a little project I’m working on, a project I fully intend to prove is true.” I comb my fingers through my long, brown hair, sweeping tangled strands out of my eyes. “Now, not a lot of people know this, but Shadow Cove has the highest rate of kidnapping and murder crimes in all of America.” I angle the web camera downward to get the glare off my face. “But that info isn’t going to show up in any records. In fact, most of the records I’ve obtained for this project show an extremely low number of kidnappings and murders. But I’ve recently come across some top secret documents that show a startling amount of mysterious disappearances and deaths that have happened here. Yet most of them were never released to the citizens of Shadow Cove. In truth, the kidnappings were always put down as runaways, and almost all of the deaths had a very brief investigation, despite the mysterious activity surrounding each one.”

  “Mak, please tell me this isn’t for your history project.” Everleigh’s heart-shaped face pops up on the screen like a springing Jack-in-the-Box. Her blue eyes are filled with worry behind her square-framed glasses, and her mouth is curved into a disappointed frown. “Please tell me you’re just messing around.”

  “What?” I swivel around in my chair. “I think it has a good angle for the assignment—murder as part of the town history. You’ve gotta admit, it’s pretty catchy.”

  “I know you like to play the journalist angle with everything, but unless you have facts about this theory, it won’t get you an A in history. In fact, Mrs. Maralline will probably fail you.” She repeatedly combs her fingers through her curly, brown hair, a nervous habit. “And, as your best friend, it’s my duty to make sure you don’t turn that video in.”

  It’s so like Everleigh to be all dutiful. She doesn’t just do this with me, but with all of her friends and sometimes even teachers. While most people find it annoying, I’ve known Everleigh long enough that I’m used to it. It’s actually kind of nice to have a friend always looking out for me.

  “Hey, maybe I do have proof,” I argue. “Maybe I’ve been collecting information, and all the evidence points to one thing: there’s a conspiracy in Shadow Cove. The kidnappings and murders are being covered up.”

  I’m being over the top, but I have to think outside the box in order to win an argument with Everleigh. And by outside the box, I mean, way, way outside, all the way past the moon and the stars to where aliens live. Why? Because Everleigh is super smart, although her genius stops at questionable subjects that might not be provable by reading a book, questionable subjects like aliens and conspiracy theories. I guess everybody has their way of understanding. Mine are the mental notes I file away in my brain.

  Here are some of the basic mental notes I have on Everleigh:

  Full Name: Everleigh Rosenbloom.

  Age: Seventeen.

  School Status: Senior at Shadow Cove High.

  Known For: The genius in our group of friends and pretty much all of Shadow Cove High.

  Hobbies: Homework, science, computers, and basically anything with electronics.

  Parents: Dad teaches PE at our high school and coaches the football and soccer team. Her mom died in a car accident when she was ten, right before her family moved to Shadow Cove. Because of this, Everleigh has taken on the mom role and spends a lot of time cooking, cleaning, and worrying about stuff normal seventeen-year-olds don’t have to.

  Siblings: Finn, her younger brother who is the opposite of Everleigh and focuses mostly on sports achievements instead of grades. He’s his dad’s pride, adored by most of the town, and has dated at least half of the cheerleading squad this year alone.

  “Do you have facts about your murder theory?” Everleigh asks, looking genuinely interested.

  God, I wish I did. Then maybe I could prove my dad isn’t a complete nut job.

  I sigh. “No, but one of these days, I’m going to find proof that a cover-up is going on in our town.” I rotate the chair around, thrumming my fingers against each other, and use my best evil villain tone. “And when I do, I’m going to take down everyone involved.”

  “You sound just like your dad …�
� She presses her lips together at the mention of my father. “I’m so sorry, Mak. I didn’t mean to bring him up.”

  Despite the ill knots winding in my stomach, I wave her off. “It’s cool.” I turn back around in the chair to power down the computer and hide my sullen expression. “I don’t mind talking about him.”

  Which is true. I don’t mind chatting about my dad as long as he isn’t being ridiculed, something Everleigh would never do. As for the rest of Shadow Cove … Well, let’s just say a lot of people around here weren’t very fond of my dad before he disappeared.

  “Have you …?” Tentativeness fills her tone. “Have you heard from him?”

  I shake my head. “No, nothing’s changed.”

  Okay, that’s not entirely true. A lot has changed—at least in my life—since the once loving, doting, awesome father I knew just up and vanished into thin air. Up until then, he was a great father, husband, and spent most of his time working as a reporter for the Shadow Cove Daily News. The position made him extremely unpopular amongst the town residents, especially the rich socialites.

  Honestly, I kind of don’t blame some people for disliking him. My dad did have a habit of making other people’s dirty laundry the main focus of his articles. Like the time he reported on Mr. Wellford getting busted for hiring a prostitute, which led to his wife divorcing him and taking over half of his ten point five million dollars, which led to the bankruptcy of his company and the unemployment of about fifty members of our town. Yeah, total domino effect. So, when my dad disappeared a little over six months ago, not too many people were upset. Me, I almost fell apart.

  My dad and I were always close and shared a love for journalism. Sometimes, during the summers, he’d let me go dig up facts with him and do interviews. Those are some of my best memories and the ones I try to hold on to.

  The last time I saw him haunts my mind every single day. He looked so worried and upset, frantically sifting through some of his old files and notes. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for as he rambled about some sort of conspiracy theory, too frazzled for me to dare ask.

  I should’ve. I really wish I had said something. Instead, I made a mental note to ask him later, after he calmed down. But, by the time I came home, the house was empty, and it stayed that way until my mom returned from working the night shift at the hospital.

  She didn’t seem too concerned that he was gone—he’d done that a lot over the last year, ever since my brother died. After a few days of still being MIA, though, my worry grew, and I drove down to the police station to report him missing. No one seemed too eager to find him, and after doing a brief search, the sheriff declared my dad left of his own free will, that he abandoned his family.

  Everyone, including my mom, accepted the answer. Not me. I know my dad. While he believes in some crazy ideas and pissed off a lot of people, I know he loves me and would never have just left without at least calling and checking in. I can’t accept anything else, not without hard evidence.

  Tears fill my eyes as I think about the last six months without him. Not wanting to turn into a big, old cry baby, though, at least not in front of Ev, I suck back the waterworks and change the subject.

  “I think I need to take a break from this project and regroup my thoughts, maybe come up with another angle.”

  “Do you want my help?” She reaches for a worn spiral notebook on her computer desk, practically bursting with excitement. “I came up with a list of topics for the project. I’m only going to use the two I underlined.” She flips open the notebook then hands it to me. “You’re welcome to use any of the rest. The broadest topics are highlighted in pink. Any of those will more than likely guarantee you an A as long as you do the work properly and thoroughly.”

  I crinkle my nose at the sight of the fifty-plus topic ideas, each as boring as the next. “Thanks, but your ideas might be a little too smart for me.” I shut the notebook and toss it aside on the desk. “Wanna hit up the skate park with me for a little while? It’ll probably help me figure out an idea for the project.”

  Her excitement goes poof. “Mak, you always do this.”

  “Do what?” I feign dumb as I slip on my sneakers.

  “Avoid doing big projects until the last second.”

  “Well, at least I’m consistent,” I joke.

  “You can’t flunk history. If you do, then you won’t be able to graduate.” Her frustration gradually shifts to deviousness. “And then you’ll have to spend the summer retaking the class and listening to Mrs. Maralline’s monotonous tone. Is that how you want to spend your last summer?”

  “I don’t know … Hey, did I tell you what Finn did in Biology yesterday?” I ask, pushing to my feet.

  She waves a finger at me. “Don’t change the subject. You always do that, too.”

  “I know.” I tug my knitted maroon beanie on my head then slip my studded backpack over my shoulders. “It’s a great distraction when you don’t necessarily want to talk about something. Some of the people my dad used to interview would do that to avoid answering questions that were making them uncomfortable. My dad referred to it as a guilty tick, and when he spotted it, he’d dig his claws in.”

  She narrows her eyes at me. “You just did it again.”

  Dammit! She’s too smart for her own good.

  “Fine.” I raise my hands in surrender. “Give me today to de-stress and kick some ass on the half-pipes. Tomorrow, I’ll re-stress by draining my soul and working on the project.”

  “Draining your soul? Isn’t that a little bit overdramatic?” Shaking her head, she sighs in defeat. “Fine, I’ll give you today to have some fun. But tomorrow, you’re going to finish that project. I’ll stay with you all day and night if I have to in order to make sure you do it.”

  I salute her. “Yes, boss, sir. But only if you try to have some fun today, too.”

  She nods, and I grab her hand.

  “We can pick up Embry and Kennedy on the way,” I say, yanking her out the door with me.

  Embry and Kennedy are our two other best friends. We’ve been friends since elementary school, and together, we are a very different, very awesome group. Although, the people we go to school with haven’t realized how truly awesome we are. Then again, it’s not their fault they aren’t awesome enough to realize this for themselves.

  “Hold on.” She wiggles her arm from my grip and snatches up her laptop. “I think I’ll work on my English midterm while we’re there.”

  “That’s what you consider fun?” I question then shake my head. “You know what? Never mind. Silly question.”

  “No question is a silly question,” she states seriously as we step out of her bedroom.

  “My dad used to say that, too.” I almost smile at the reminder of my dad. Then I remember all the questions he was asking the police right before he vanished. Questions about my brother’s death, about a conspiracy, secret societies. Questions that seemed to make people uneasy. He swore half the town was in on it: rich, poor, business owners, even some of the police.

  Sometimes, I wonder if asking those questions led to his disappearance.

  LOCATION: MAK’S CAR

  TIME: 5:22 PM

  DATE: SATURDAY, MARCH 20TH

  After Ev and I hop into my car, I steer toward Embry’s house because it’s closer, unlike Kennedy’s, which is located on the posh side of town. Out of our four friends, Kennedy’s family is the only one who’s wealthy. The rest of us are lower-class.

  Shadow Cove doesn’t really have a middle-class. Either you own one of the businesses in the community, or you work for one. And the workers make Jack shit, while the owners roll in their pools filled with hundred dollar bills. Don’t believe me? Just drive across town. One-half of the land is dotted with lavish two- and three-story homes. But once you cross Main Street, the homes shift into single-story, run down, in desperate need of some maintenance homes, and the families who live in them struggle daily to make ends meet.

  “Do you ever think they�
��ll fix the sign?” Everleigh asks as I roll through a four-way stop. I’d come to a full stop, but for the last year, one of the stop signs has been lying broken on the ground, so I don’t know if it really counts anymore.

  “What? The stop sign?” I ask, and she nods. “I don’t know. It took them, like, three years to fix the yield sign down on Fifth Street.”

  Ev frowns. “Why don’t they take care of this town better?”

  “Oh, they do,” I say, sarcasm dripping into my tone. “You just have to go to the other side of town where all the stop signs are shiny and new. I even heard they have traffic lights and everything.”

  She chuckles, setting her computer on the floorboard. “Traffic lights, huh? Wow, that’s super fancy.”

  “Oh, yeah, totally fancy.” I flip on my blinker. “Way too fancy for us common folks. We probably couldn’t even figure out how to use them …” The humor dies from my tone as we pass the old wooden sign that points to the dirt road leading to Shadow Cove Lake. The lake where my brother’s body was found.

  I almost forget how to breathe as I recollect the days leading up to his death and those afterward.

  Some people consider my brother’s death a great tragedy. The few people who showed up to his funeral spoke of how he was too young to die and how heartbreaking it was that he was in such a dark place the few months leading up to his death. And they were right. My brother was in a dark place right before he died. The colorful, joking, loving, goofy brother I grew up with had withered into a sullen, depressed, moody guy I barely recognized. He lost enough weight that his ribs were protruding and his face was sunken in. His once 4.0 GPA slipped dramatically. He was quiet and withdrawn, spending hours locked in his room. When he would come out, he was snappy and irritable.

  My mom and the school’s guidance counselor thought he was depressed. My dad had another theory: that my brother got into trouble with some secret society in Shadow Cove. A lot of people in the town gossiped about him selling drugs. Me, I didn’t know what to think. Still don’t.

  Whatever was going on with him, he ultimately took his own life. At least, according to the final police report, he did. I was there when the officer told my parents and rambled on and on about my brother until there wasn’t anything left to say. The conclusion was pretty simple, though.