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What Lies in the Dark

Jessica Sorensen




  What Lies in the Dark

  (Shadow Cove Series, #2)

  Jessica Sorensen

  What Lies in the Dark

  Jessica Sorensen

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2017 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.

  No part of this book can be reproduced in any form or by electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without the permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Any trademarks, service marks, product names or names featured are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if we use one of these terms.

  * * *

  For information: jessicasorensen.com

  Cover Design by Mae I Design

  Created with Vellum

  For Kiki, the bravest and most badass girl I know.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  About the Author

  Also by Jessica Sorensen

  Chapter 1

  LOCATION: MAK’S CAR

  TIME: 2:29 PM

  DATE: TUESDAY, MARCH 23RD

  I’m parked in front of the police station, thrumming my fingers on the steering wheel as I debate my next move—whether I have the courage to go inside or not. I haven’t gone home to take a shower, so I reek of lake water and forest. Dirt stains my pants and shirt, and my hair has a few flakes of mud in it. I should go home. I really should. I need to take a shower, clean up, and wash this horrible day off me. But I can’t bring myself to do so just yet.

  After driving away from the lake about half an hour ago, I drove to the police station. As I passed the town marquee that flashed the date and time, I became painfully aware that the morphine Lispy Larry had injected into me had knocked me out for about six hours, which means I missed the entire day of school. My mom should’ve received a call about my absence by now.

  I haven’t ditched before, but I’m guessing she’ll probably think I did. Sawyer used to do it all the time, at least when he started getting depressed. And whenever he did, he got grounded.

  I can’t get grounded right now, not if I ever plan on seeing my friends again and figuring out what’s going on in this town. I also need to meet up with the person who left the note in my pocket.

  I pick up the note from out of the console and reread it.

  You want answers about what really happened to your brother and father? Meet me at the following location on March 26th at eleven p.m. on the dot. And make sure to come alone, Mak. No one can follow you in any way, shape, or form. Tell no one about the meeting. It’s a matter of life and death. If anyone finds out about this, then we both could end up dead.

  PS: Your car is parked in the trees.

  The address listed at the bottom isn’t one I recognize, but I can do a search for that later.

  March 26th is three days away, giving me three days to figure out who sent the note so I can decide if they’re a legitimate source or not.

  Three days isn’t a lot of time, especially when I have so many other things to do, like get the reward money from Dixon in exchange for the computer, enter the skate competition, report Lispy Larry’s attack on me, and sneak a look at the coroner’s report for Bria Brookenrose, my brother’s girlfriend when he was alive, who mysteriously died a few days ago in the same place my brother did—up by the lake.

  From the way my mom acted when she told me about Bria’s death, Bria had morphine in her system, just like Sawyer. My brother also had these weird scratches on his body, which is the main reason I want to see the coroner’s report on Bria—to find out if she had those scratches, too, even if I have no clue what could’ve caused them. I’ll worry about that later.

  “One step at a time, Mak,” I whisper to myself, trying not to fall apart.

  I’ve always been great at holding myself together, but right now, I feel as though I’m veering toward a breakdown. If I start thinking about what happened too much—what Lispy Larry did to me—I know I’m going to. Instead, I focus on the task at hand—working up the courage to go into the police station and report the attack.

  I shouldn’t be so nervous, but Shadow Cove police have never been kind to my family, particularly my dad. According to some of my dad’s theories, the mayor donates a large amount of money to the police station every year. And since the mayor is Lispy Larry’s father … yeah, let’s just say I’m not too optimistic about reporting this. The only thing I have in my favor is that the attack happened at school, so the cameras may have caught what happened. Lispy Larry told me they were off, but I’m not about to take his word for it. Still, I can’t help being uneasy, fearing I’ll be attacked for trying to go to the police.

  Lispy Larry did attack me at school. Who’s to say he won’t do it again if I try to report the incident? Or maybe he’s already here, watching me.

  I peer around, searching for his beady little eyes, but all I see are shops and restaurants, and the wealthy people traveling into and from them.

  My knuckles turn white as my grip on the steering wheel constricts. Woman up, Mak. You can’t back down. Not from this, I mentally tell myself. You have to report this.

  Summoning a shaky breath, I climb out of the car and cross the street toward the station.

  Don’t do this yet, Mak, Sawyer’s voice rises into my mind. Put on the necklace.

  This is the second time he’s mentioned the necklace in the last half hour, and while he’s never specified what it is, I’m assuming it’s this glass vial attached to a string that I found in his closet the other day. Why he thinks it’ll protect me is beyond me. The idea just seems crazy.

  Then again, I’m hearing the voice of my dead older brother, so … yeah.

  My legs shake as I hike toward the police station’s entrance, hugging my arms around myself. People wander up and down the sidewalks, heading either into or out of the shops.

  As I pass by each of the fancy shops, I note a circular symbol traced by a pattern of Greek-like letters on at least half the doors. The same symbol I found on the card in Lispy Larry’s truck and the same one on the secret escorting site I discovered online.

  Liam wasn’t lying. The symbol is on almost every single one of Shadow Cove’s finest businesses. And when I say “finest,” I mean they carry overly priced items, services, or food, and have the snobbiest customer service you can possibly imagine. And, according to Liam, every owner is either part of some secret society in Shadow Cove or works for it.

  “I can’t believe this. There are so many …” I trail off as I reach the entrance of the police station, seeing the symbol on the upper right section of the door. It’s smaller than on the other businesses, only about the size of a fingernail. It’s still there, though, like a warning, indicating that, if what Liam said is true, the police either work for or are a part of the secret society.

  I stand in front of the door, contemplating what to do next. Lispy Larry can’t get away with what he did to me. Then again, my father was always adamant about the police in this town being corrupt. Now they have the symbol on their door, or maybe it h
as always been there and I never noticed, never thought to look.

  I may not know much about the secret society yet, but Liam warned me they were dangerous. Then, only minutes after his warning, Lispy Larry injected me with morphine and threatened to kill me if I didn’t stop digging around in things that weren’t my business.

  I’m guessing Lispy Larry is part of the secret society and they were behind my attack. This is all based on assumption, though. As of now, I have no hardcore proof, other than maybe the school’s security cameras recording the attack.

  “I need to find out if they did. That way, I have some proof.”

  I start to turn back toward my car. I need to meet up with my friends, fill them in on what happened, and see if we can work our magic a second time by getting ahold of the footage from the school’s security cameras.

  Mid-turn, though, I halt as the door to the police station swings open and out walks the mayor himself and none other than Don Jennings.

  Here’s all I know about Don Jennings:

  Place of Work: Owner of every car dealership in Shadow Cove.

  Hobbies: Sexism, bragging about his wealth, running for mayor, and raising children who are beyond snobby.

  Wealth Status: One of the wealthiest businessmen in town.

  Relationship Status: Married, but may be having an affair with my mom.

  Not too impressive if you ask me. And the mayor isn’t any better.

  Mayor’s status:

  Full Name: Walter Greinegone.

  Hobbies: Bailing his son out of trouble and making his criminal record disappear.

  Wealth Status: Not nearly as wealthy as Don Jennings, but has the support of many wealthy business owners in town.

  Relationship Status: Married, although hardly anyone has seen his wife in person and some speculate she doesn’t exist.

  Honestly, I don’t have much information about either man. Maybe that should change. Right now, though, the last thing I want is to run into the man who’s the father of the man who doped me up. Nor do I want to run into the man who may be having an affair with my mom. So, as they exit the police station, I sidestep out of the way and turn my head, letting my long, brown hair shield my face.

  “Thanks for meeting me here today,” Don Jennings says to the mayor. “I thought this would be the best place to discuss our little business agreement.”

  “Not a problem,” the mayor replies as they stroll down the sidewalk past me. “Out of all the places in town, the station has the least eyes and ears around. Makes things easier for us to have a private conversation that not even they can hear.”

  “Yes, it does,” Don agrees with a nod. “We should probably get together and do lunch before we announce the agreement. It’ll make our partnership less out of the blue.”

  “How about Friday evening?” the mayor suggests. “We could meet up at Lana’s in the backroom.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Don says with another nod.

  When they reach the street corner, they shake hands then part ways in opposite directions.

  A shaky exhale flees my lips as they disappear.

  The two of them being in cahoots with each other can’t be good, but what’s really got me squirrelly is the mention of eyes and ears. That usually means one of two things: either there are spies in the area or hidden cameras.

  Without lifting my head, I peek around the streets and buildings, then at the people nearby. Nothing appears out of the ordinary, but that’s how things usually are in Shadow Cove. On the outside, the town is sparkling with wealth with its fancy shops and businesses, expensive cars driving up and down the streets, and almost everyone is wearing designer clothes. Across the railroad tracks, though, where I live, it’s an entirely different story.

  Hardly anyone talks about the lower- and middle-class, focusing instead on the wealthy and pleasant side of town. Stories of disappearances and deaths are rarely spoken of, at least not publicly. Cover-ups, conspiracy theories, secret societies—my father thought all this existed. I always wondered: how?

  How is the darker part of life in Shadow Cove being swept under the rug? Is it possible that perhaps the town is being watched? By whom? The secret society? Why?

  So many questions. Questions I need to get answers to.

  Be careful, Mak. Everyone is being watched. Go home and put the necklace on. That’s the only way to stay safe.

  Why, though? Just tell me, please.

  Silence is my only response.

  Sighing in frustration, I push away from the wall and hurry across the street to my car.

  As much as I love being able to hear from my dead brother—well, either that or I’m hallucinating—his cryptic messages are starting to drive me crazy. Apparently, that’s become the theme of my life.

  Chapter 2

  LOCATION: MAK’S HOUSE

  TIME: 2:47 PM

  DATE: TUESDAY, MARCH 23RD

  On my way home, I make a pit stop at the hospital where my mom works, but her car isn’t in the parking lot, and since I don’t have my phone with me, I can’t call her.

  My frustration builds as I leave the hospital and drive home, only to find that my mom isn’t there, either. I’m not too surprised. She’s rarely home.

  I used to believe her constant MIA behavior was because of the long hours she put in at the hospital. After some snooping around, though, I found that isn’t the case. She also spends time up at a local teenage party area, hanging out in a luxury car, doing who knows what with who knows who. All evidence so far points to Don Jennings.

  Just thinking about what they could be doing behind those tinted windows makes me want to yack up the four Pop-Tarts I just devoured.

  Apparently, getting doped up on morphine makes me as hungry as a Pop-Tart loving hippo.

  Since school releases in about twenty minutes, I need to hurry my ass up so I can be there when the bell rings to meet up with Kennedy, Embry, and Everleigh, aka Ev, and see if they’re down for more snooping around in the school’s security footage—we’re going to need a new plan from last time. They are probably freaking out right now over the sudden Houdini act I pulled.

  Plus, I need to find my backpack and phone. I would’ve driven straight to the school after I left the hospital parking lot, but I decided I needed to find this necklace Sawyer keeps whispering about.

  Dusting the crumbs off my fingers, I go to my father’s office and slip into the secret nook located behind the bookshelf. Then I pull out the pile of stuff I found in Sawyer’s closet last night, which consists of a key, a newspaper clipping for a lawn care job, a glass vial hanging on a piece of string, a thick leather-bound book, and a small card with a circular symbol printed on it. It’s the same symbol from the card I found in Lispy Larry’s truck and the escorting site. There was also a small bag of cocaine, but I dumped that down the toilet.

  So far, I haven’t had time to explore the items or figure out why Sawyer was hiding them in the floor of his closet. I make a mental note to look into it some more, then examine the key. There’s a spot filed down where I’m assuming a name or digit was, but what on earth could it go to? Stuffing it into my pocket, I collect the card and the glass vial attached to the string.

  I give the vial a shake, unsure what I expect to happen. With how obsessed Sawyer is with it, I wonder if something crazy will occur, but the glass simply reflects against the sunlight filtering in through the window.

  “This is what you want me to wear?” I ask quietly, being extra careful no one hears me. Sure, no one is home right now, but if anyone ever does realize I’m talking to Sawyer, they’ll think I’m as insane as the town did about my father. And my mom will probably want to put me back on the meds I was taking for hallucinations after Sawyer died and also when my father disappeared.

  Back then, I thought I was losing my mind. Now, well, I’m either veering toward crazy land again or I was never hallucinating to begin with. If that’s true, that leaves me with yet another unanswered question: why can I hear an
d talk to the dead?

  I dig a pen and notebook out of the top drawer of my dad’s desk and quickly jot down a list of questions that need answers.

  1. What does the key go to?

  2. What’s the deal with the necklace?

  3. Are there spies or bugs in Shadow Cove? If so, who put them there?

  4. Who is in this secret society? And what is its purpose?

  5. What is Lispy Larry hiding in that strange store located in the ghost house?

  6. Did Bria die in the same manner as Sawyer?

  7. Who put the note in my pocket at the lake?

  8. How is all this linked to the illegal escorting site?

  9. What happened to my father?

  10. What was the real reason behind Sawyer’s death?

  And the question I’d really like to know:

  11. Am I really hearing Sawyer from beyond the grave? If so, why?

  There are probably more questions than even those. I can add as I go.

  Setting the list down, I pick up the leather-bound book and flip through the pages. The book is penned in a different language, and so far, I haven’t had time to decipher it. I make a note on my list to research it online, then make another note to burn the damn piece of paper after I transfer the questions to my computer, which has so many passcodes and security no one should be able to hack it. Well, except Ev since she set it all up for me.

  The last thing I need is for the wrong person to discover what I’m up to, including my mom. Not only will she freak out if she finds out I’m following in my father’s footsteps, but Lispy Larry warned me not to dig around in this anymore. I could just walk away and let it go—it’d be a lot less dangerous if I did—but walking away isn’t who I am, especially if this search could lead me to my brother’s killer and give me answers to what happened to my father.