Chasing Secrets: A YA mystery thriller (Gregory Academy Mysteries Book 1)

by Jill Cooper

  He smirks. “I guess we will. Listen, I have to go talk to a few people. Want to come with?”

  “Nah, I’m not the type to cling. Maybe I’ll see you later, and we can continue this conversation.”

  We can continue this conversation? How old am I? I sound like I’m organizing a conference call. Get on Zoom, everyone. I shudder at how awkward I am.

  “Absolutely.” He winks, and I wonder if that works with all the ladies. As I watch him head away, I wonder why he didn’t mention how much I look like the dead homecoming queen. Maybe he just has more tact than everyone else in town.

  Now that I’m left to my own devices, I smooth the hem of my skirt down and feel underdressed compared to the other girls. Even the guys wear blazers with their skinny jeans. Who knew teens would dress up so much on purpose?

  I get a few side-eyed looks, a few whispers, and some blatant stares. Girls gawk at me with their mouths hanging open. Well, the headmaster said I needed to step out and differentiate myself from Amber, right? I take a deep breath and psych myself up.

  No time like the present, right?

  “I’m Jessica.” I wave to the crowd on my left and on my right. “Hi! I’m new, so if anyone wants to ask me any questions,” I hoist my glass of punch in the air and take a sip, “feel free.”

  Some of the stares turn into snarls. A girl steps apart from the crowd and approaches me. She’s in a black minidress and has a white fur wrap around her shoulders. Her silky blonde hair is slicked back, and there’s an ornamental clip attached to the side. Her makeup is so perfect she looks like a YouTube tutorial come to life. Her eyes travel the length of my body, and she sneers as if my very existence offends her. “How dare you walk in here with that face.”

  Well, she’s certainly bold, isn’t she? I step up with a shrug. “It’s the one I was born with. Nothing I can do about it, same as you.” Oops, I realize how much shade I just threw onto her and instantly cringe. I meant to be strong but not that strong. “Not that there’s anything wrong with your face. I mean, it’s fine. Maybe even pretty. I mean, it’s totally pretty.” My hand curls up in the air, and I consider crawling back into the hole I just dug myself.

  I need to be rescued by someone other than myself.

  Her cheeks puff out, and she places a hand on her hip. “No one talks to a Sinclair like that.”

  Oh, no wonder she had such a chip on her shoulder. She was from the rich family Maxx told me about. “Oh, so that’s who you are.”

  “Winfred Sinclair.” Her eyes narrow, and she hisses her words at me. “I’ll have you thrown off the property if—”

  “Winny, Winny!” Ryan sprints through the crowd and places his hand on her shoulder. “Let’s not overreact. I invited her here. I’m sorry, Jess. Winfred here is wound a little tight. She thinks we’re in Riverdale or something.” He winks at me, and I find myself relaxing.

  Winfred’s eyes widen, and her mouth drops open. “You did what? You know who she looks like. She’s an insult to my family. To yours, too, Alistair.”

  “Nothing of the sort. She’s not Amber Chetwood.”

  Winfred snorts and crosses her arms. “Obviously not, but she’s a stain upon the town. A bad omen.” Her eyes dart back to me. “Amber’s spirit has never been put to rest. You being here is going to bring bad luck to Bay Harbor. You’ll see.” She points a finger at Ryan. “And you should know better.”

  Ryan practically whines. “C’mon, Winny. Don’t be like that.”

  “She’ll cause my whole family pain. If you don’t see it, at least stay out of my way.” Winfred storms back out through the crowd like a hurricane tearing through a town. I stare after her and step up beside Ryan.

  “Thanks,” I say. I’m not sure what else to add.

  “Sure. She means well. She worries about her family. Things have been tense at home. For all of us.”

  “How come?”

  Ryan shrugs. “Let’s just say our families don’t act like it’s 2020. They still think it’s 1820, none of which is your fault. Winny needs something to be angry at.”

  I wonder why that is, but I’m too new to town to ask. Instead, I nod and wrap my arms around my waist. Could the tensions in town be caused by me? That’s not possible. I look like a dead girl, but I’m not her. I don’t represent anything, and I’m certainly not a bad omen.

  Then I think about how my dad left, and I wonder if any of that is true.

  “Cold? C’mon, we’ll get something warm to drink. Then I’ll introduce you to a few good people to know from school. We’ll hit the dance floor and it’ll help get this weirdness over with. Plus, act as a shield against Winfred.”

  I snort with a laugh, and we walk toward the refreshment bar. “You really think I’m going to need a shield?”

  He holds up two fingers to the bartenders. “Two coffees, please. You’ll need more than a shield. You’re going to need body armor.”

  Great. Just what I want to hear.

  “Well, well, the two people I most wanted to see together.” Cameron strolls up and squeezes between Ryan and me. He leans on his elbows on the bar and smiles up at me. There’s a toothpick rolling in his mouth.

  I can’t help but smile.

  Ryan smirks. “Get out of here, Cameron.”

  I laugh.

  “Oh, but see, she likes me. She thinks I’m funny. Don’t you?”

  Ryan shoves him lightly. “She thinks you’re funny looking. I’m just getting her a drink, and then we’re going to head onto the dance floor.”

  “If that’s what she wants.”

  “That was the plan. Sorry.” I give a cringing smile.

  “It’s okay. I’ll catch you later, Jessica. I’m patient.” Cameron strolls off, and I can’t help but watch him go. There’s something playful and charismatic about him. It forces me to watch him. I wonder who he is, what his parents are like, if he is part of the uber-rich elite who helped found this town.

  “Listen, if you want to go off with him…” Ryan says but sounds like a wounded puppy.

  “I’m just curious. He’s the only person who didn’t stare at me like my face might bring a plague of wasps.” Which is too bad because my face isn’t so bad. I’ve always been a fan.

  “Cameron’s new to town. His family only moved here a few months before you. New money.”

  “New money?”

  “Yeah, they came into it through a few good business decisions. My family and Winfred’s family, we hatched out of pods, clutching money in our hands.”

  I smirk. “And monocles on your eyes?”

  Ryan’s mouth drops open. “How’d you know?”

  I laugh, and when Ryan offers me his arm, I take it. Then with our drinks in hand, he leads me onto the dance floor.

  After a few hours of dancing and talking, I step outside onto an open patio for some fresh air. The breeze blowing in from the ocean makes me shiver, but it feels good after I worked up a good sweat. “Private party?” Maxx asks and holds up a paper bag. I stare at it with an eyebrow raised as she pulls two bottles of beer out. “Or can I crash? I brought the good stuff from the corner market.”

  I glance at the beers like they might leap out and wound me. “You can crash.”

  She offers me one as we stand at the railing together, but I shake my head. “I promised my mom…don’t tell anyone I’m a wet blanket.”

  “Nah, I respect that. A woman of your word.” She places one of the bottles on the railing and pops the top off the other one. “Quite the entrance you made earlier.”

  “I believe in making an impression.”

  “I think it worked.” Maxx laughs.

  “What did you think of Cameron? Any impressions?”

  “Cameron Kincaid?” Maxx shrugs. “Class clown. Cute. Charming. There doesn’t seem to be any skeletons in his closet which means he probably has them locked in the basement. Why?”

  “He’s been flirting with me.”

  “Ooooh,” Maxx smirks. “I guess he has good taste.”


  “Or he thinks I’m rich. Trust me, there’s nothing desirable about me. I’m here on a scholarship. My pinky toe doesn’t deserve to hobnob with you guys.”

  Maxx puts her hand on my shoulder. “Contrary to popular opinion, how much money our parents have doesn’t increase our value as humans. Underneath, we’re all assholes.”

  A quick burst of laughter escapes me. “I’d drink to that, if I had a drink.”

  We stare out toward the ocean. Down the hill and turning toward the cliffs are a series of buildings. “Is it down there where they found her?”

  Maxx nods. “Yeah. They say that’s where she can be heard. And sometimes seen,” Maxx says it in a low, creepy voice.

  Being that I’ve already seen her, this legend scares me. “Okay, don’t try to creep me out.” I grip the railing and push myself back.

  “I’m not. No one goes out there after dark. No one with a lick of sense anyway.”

  I think on that as the door behind us opens again. “Maxx, your ride is here.”

  “That’s my dad. I’ll see you tomorrow at school. Promise me you’re not going to do anything stupid. Just go home and get some sleep.”

  Out toward the cliffs, I spot a dark silhouette moving slowly along the edge. I’m either seeing Amber’s ghost or someone else. The small hairs on the back of my hand rise. I raise my hand in surrender. “I promise.”

  Maxx disappears inside, and I wait for the door to latch.

  I swing my leg over the side of the railing. “Right after I hop this railing and go down to the coast, I promise I’ll go right home.”

  I make my way across a small, four cars wide parking lot then head into the woods. Walking through wet trees and across slippery rocks makes me pretty glad that I decided to wear booties. I have Mom to thank for putting that thought in my mind.

  I’ve never been a party girl. I’m more interested in function than fashion. The rain comes down harder the closer I get to the buildings clustered around the rocks. The dark figure lingers up ahead.

  It paces left, then stares out at the ocean, only to pace right again. Tall and with broad shoulders, the notion it could be Amber’s ghost quickly evaporates from my mind. It’s clearly a man in a dark overcoat, but why is he here? What is he up to? My mind spins with possibilities. Could he work on the grounds, or is he here to grieve for the dead?

  Or put to rest some old piece of guilt kept long hidden away, desperate to be set free.

  Mom always says I should write for soap operas one day.

  I approach the building and slow down. I put my hand on the wooden side paneling; it’s moist from ocean spray. The windows are dusty and dirty on the inside. I can’t catch much other than a view of some old rowboats and fishing supplies.

  Lightning flashes, and the name on the cabin lights up. It’s owned by the Sinclairs. Winfred’s words from earlier that night replay in my head. She’s awfully protective. Is there something she doesn’t want everyone to know? That or she’s just nasty and in need of some complex carbs. Who doesn’t get hangry once in a while for a bagel?

  I keep my eye on the man. His back is to me and I’m about two arms’ length away. I can hear him breathing and he stands so still, I’m not sure if he’s sensed me yet. Until he speaks.

  “I’d like some privacy if you don’t mind.” He turns his head enough so I can make out his profile.

  “Sorry.” His voice is mournful, and I don’t want to disturb him. “Is this…where she…died?”

  He nods and faces the ocean again. “I should’ve done so much differently. I—Please, if you have any decency, you’ll let me be.”

  He sounds so lost in grief I’m not sure I should leave him here. “It’s raining pretty hard. Maybe you should come up to the house. Soon.”

  “What did you say your name is?” He turns sharply, his arms limp by his sides, and steps forward.

  Alarm bells go off in my head. I step back. “I didn’t say. You tell me your name first.” I want to scream, but I don’t. I’m scared, but I need to see where his conversation will take us.

  Lightning flashes bright enough so I can see his face and his blond hair. Dismay and heartbreak line his eyes as he lunges for me. “Amber? Amber?” His hands grab my face.

  “I’m not her,” I whisper, and suddenly I realize I’m not playing a game. I’m not trying to solve some murder mystery I saw on television. Amber had been real. She left people behind, and they still live in their heartbreak.

  “I’ve been coming here. I’m always coming here looking for you. Waiting for you to appear, and now you have,” he whispers. He must be Jackson Sinclair. I recognize him from the old photo in Mr. Davis’s office. He looks far older than he should with sunken eyes and wrinkles around his eyes and mouth but there’s no denying who he is.

  “Please, I’m not Amber. My name is Jessica. It’s Jessica!” I try to pull away, but he holds me firmly.

  “After all this time, you’d deny me?” His voice is incredulous but borders on angry. I can hear him breathing. “When you’re the one who left?”

  I’m afraid of what he might do. I want to pull myself away, but his grip on me is too tight. I push my hands onto his chest hard and manage to stumble away.

  “Enough!” Someone grabs my shoulder and pulls me back to safety. It’s Winfred. Shock rolls over me as she steps between us. “Daddy, this is Jessica. A classmate. You need to go home. Go home and sleep it off!” She turns away from her father and ushers me up the hill with her. “Move it already!” She orders me.

  Well, this is awkward. “Thank you.”

  Winfred shakes her head and just keeps going. “You bring nothing but torment to my family. You’ll destroy what’s left of my father. Leave. Him. Alone.” She glares at me in the dark before climbing through the rocks up to the main house building.

  “I didn’t mean to…” I start to say, but she’s so far ahead, she’ll never hear me. I glance back at the rocks where Amber Chetwood’s body was found, and Jackson Sinclair is still standing there.

  Staring at me.

  I can’t get out of there fast enough.

  As I pull myself over the railing, Ryan appears and offers me his hand and helps me over. “Everything okay?”

  I nod but can’t stop myself from trembling. To hide it, I wrap my arms around my waist and glance back at the cliffs. Jackson is gone, but a dark silhouette down by the water freaks me out. “I think I better go. I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

  “Let me give you a ride. It looks like it might rain. It’s a long walk back to the center of town.”

  “How did you know I live by the center of town?”

  He grins. “Jess, you can’t go around with Amber’s face and not have everyone instantly know who you are. That includes where you live. Check out Gregory’s chat, and you’ll see. You’re all anyone can talk about.”

  “Great.” I give a slight eye roll.

  Ryan puts his arm lightly around my waist, and I allow it. I kind of like it. He’s nice, and I like how I feel protected when he’s around. He leads me off of the patio, and we head toward the front of the building. “Come on. If you want, I can show you where Amber Chetwood lived. Her family estate isn’t far.”

  Well, he knew how to pique my interest. “You now have my full attention, Ryan Alistair.”

  Dimples appear on his cheek. “I thought it would. I’ll show you all of Amber’s secrets if you show me yours.”

  “Deal, except I don’t have any.”

  Ryan snickers. He takes my hand and leads me over to the valet. “We all have secrets, Jess. Every last one of us.”

  “Even you?” My skin races with a chill.

  “Especially me.”

  Chapter Nine

  Jackson Sinclair has definitely set off my creep-o-meter, and I worry about him and what he did to Amber. I mean, maybe he killed her and regrets it. So far, it’s the only suspect I have in the investigation, which so far is only happening in my mind.

  An old cold case.r />
  A creepy town.

  Rich mansions and a country club.

  Hell yeah, I’m interested. It’s all I can think about as Ryan drives us to the Chetwood mansion not far from the country club. It’s nestled in the cliffs and surrounded by a wrought iron fence. There’s a No Trespassing sign up the long, treacherous driveway toward the house and barbwire blocks the way.Thunder crashes and lightning quickly follows, illuminating the four-story Victorian home. It’s something out of a horror movie, and I swallow hard. “You’re sure no one lives here?”

  “I’m sure. If we want to make it up to the house, we’re going to have to go up by foot.”

  “And you’ve done this before?” My eyebrows raise incredulously.

  “Once or twice on a dare.” He smiles slyly with a twinkle in his eye, and I can tell he’s really enjoying himself. He flicks a flashlight on under his chin, and I swat it away.

  “You’re real funny, Alistair.”

  “That’s what they tell me.” Ryan hands me my own mini flashlight. “In case we get separated. It can be really dark in there. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

  Nice words. I’m already regretting what we’re about to do, but I don’t want to appear like I’m chickening out. Am I chickening out?

  We park the car along the curb of the road leading up to the house, close to the bushes. I’m not sure who we’re hiding from. The streets are dark, and from the crumbling road conditions, no one seems to be caring for the estate anymore. It’s enough to almost make you sad—if you weren’t too busy being terrified.

  “A lot of the local kids have a dare—a challenge—that they can’t spend a night alone in here. No cell phones, no calling for help. So far, I don’t think anyone has made it.”

  “Why?” I’m almost out of breath as we ascend the final hill and make the walk across the final stretch. The grass is overgrown and threatens to overtake the driveway.

  “You’ll see.” Ryan shines his flashlight toward the house.

  It’s close now. There’s an archway of stone columns, crumbling on the bottom and chipped with decay. Once, this place was regal and of great stature. You can tell just by looking at it, but now it’s fallen into a state of ruin from the crumbling stone façade of the archways to the cobblestone beneath my feet. The slabs of rock are jagged and uneven. I almost lose my footing as we approach the front doors, and I’m glad I chose to at least wear boots.