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

by Jill Cooper

  “No, I said Maxx was working on something. I never said phone.”

  “How else would I know?” Cameron glances at me and licks his lips.

  Maybe I did say it. It’s been a long day, and I’m tired. Cameron has one of those sickeningly sweet faces you can’t help but trust. It wouldn’t make any sense if he was involved with Amber Chetwood’s murder. He was too young for starters, and he just got to town like I did.

  “Sorry, I’m just tired and out of sorts. Forgive me?” I ask sweetly.

  Cameron smirks. “I can forgive you of anything, Jess. Let’s get home so no one ever knows we were missing.”

  Just like Amber Chetwood.

  Cameron drops me off at home. “Thanks for taking me. Sorry if this is all too much for you.”

  His hand splays, still on the steering wheel. “It’s not too much. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” He leans in and kisses the corner of my mouth. I can’t say it’s unwelcome.

  I promise to call him later. “You’re a good guy.”

  “Not that good,” Cameron leans forward and kisses me on the lips.

  I lean into it. It feels nice to be normal for a little while.

  “If that’s all you want from me, trust me. It’s good.”

  “I’ll call you,” Cameron says and plants a kiss on my cheek. He’s such a nice guy. I could do a lot worse than him.

  I sneak inside my house. I worry someone might be there that shouldn’t be or that Mom could have returned, it’s nearly lunchtime, and she could come home to check on me. But all the lights are off and the living room is as it was that morning. So, I creep up the stairs and step into my bedroom, peering around corners and looking through my closet.

  So far, so good.

  My backpack hits the floor at the foot of my bed, and I kick off my sneakers. I reach into my desk and am relieved when I find the letters are still there. Thank goodness no one found them. Sitting on my bed, I’m filled with a rush of excitement and dread. Once I read these, there is no going back.

  I’ll be reading a dead woman’s deepest thoughts to her dearest friend, but Jenny gave them to me. So there must be a reason.

  I pull the twine free from the letters and unfold them one at a time and read them.

  Dear Friend,

  I’m finally settled in and can’t believe this is happening. Life is much different here than I’m used to. I have to help make meals and pitch in around the trailer. But it’s simpler, and some of it is kind of nice.

  I keep reading the papers and seeing my name. It’s surreal to see the kind of scandal I have caused. I wish I was able to fix it all, but I can’t yet. Please write me and tell me how J and M are doing. I don’t wish harm to either of them.

  Dear Friend,

  It’s been months now since I left home. C is great. We’ve bonded over this situation I have put myself in, but I am homesick and miss all of my friends. I miss my parents. How are they?

  I wish J could be here for this. The little one is kicking so fiercely, some nights I can barely sleep. When I’m sad, and I can feel her move, I know all of this is worth it to get away. Just a few more months, and maybe this will all be over.

  Dear Friend,

  I’m so large now, and I’m days away from meeting my little one! Still, I am terrified at the notion of it happening alone away from everyone I once loved. Keep an eye on J for me. I saw in the paper that he’s gone and gotten himself engaged. I can’t deny that it hurt to see how quickly I’d be replaced, and by my old friend.

  How can she do that, knowing what is really happening? I wonder if maybe she was ever really my friend. If you could speak of this in your next letter, I’d love to hear your words of wisdom. You always make me feel better when I’m upset.

  Miss you. I miss J so much. I thought one day we’d be reunited, but now I’m afraid he no longer cares for me. But once he sees his baby, I hope things will be different, and we can return to each other. Do you think I’m an old fool?

  I’m in shock as I place the letters back down. Amber hadn’t just been pregnant. She had gone away to have her baby in secret, but why? Was life that dangerous for her here after her parents’ scandal? Had she been threatened by someone, or had she become dangerous and irrational with everything that had happened around her?

  I get off my bed and grab my cell phone.

  “Jenny?” I greet her after she answers.

  “Yes?” Jenny’s voice sounds hopeful and pleasant.

  I consider hanging up. If we don’t meet, if she doesn’t tell me what I need to know, I can go back to pretending. But let’s be real, someone out there wants me dead, and I can’t bury my head in the sand. “It’s Jessica Chase. I read the letters.”

  “Where would you like to meet?” She sounds relieved but anxious at the same time.

  I glance in the mirror at myself and also at the face of Amber Chetwood. I touch my cheek and wonder things I never would’ve thought were possible. “The coffee shop downtown around the corner from Paintings Square. I can be there in ten minutes.”

  “Done. I’ll see you then.”

  I end the call and step toward the mirror. Is it me?

  Am I…?

  Was I Amber Chetwood’s baby?

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  It’s four o’clock, and I’m pushing my curfew big time, but there’s no choice. I have to know what’s going on. I head down to the coffee shop on the corner of Elm and High Street right away. As I round toward the entrance, I spot my mother walking across the street with Martin Alistair. They almost see me, so I duck behind a stone planter beside some patio tables. The old woman in a sun hat who is sitting there gives me a look.

  “Find your own table,” she hisses at me.

  How polite of her.

  Martin guides Mom, his hand resting on her lower back. The widower is a little too touchy with my mother for me to feel comfortable.

  Mom smiles at him a certain way as they enter the coffee shop, and I wonder what that’s all about. Against my better judgment, I follow them into the coffee shop. I immediately take a seat at a small table against the wall, hiding my face behind a menu. I lower it enough to see they are still at the counter and ordering coffee.

  Martin stands close to Mom, and the small gap between them makes me uncomfortable. With their coffees and takeout bags in hand, Mom smiles at him. I slump in my seat.

  “Thanks for lunch. I owe you!”

  “Oh, my pleasure. Trust me, I have enough to go around. I’m just glad to have your company for lunch.”

  Mom laughs, her voice closer. They must be heading out the front door.

  “You know, Patty, I’m sure your daughter’s a good kid. Just cut her some slack. This town has a peculiar way to welcome someone who looks like Amber. I’m sure it’s unsettling for a teen girl.”

  “Yes, I guess you’re right.”

  Martin did me a solid, but it doesn’t mean I trust him. I turn toward the window and peer out to watch them crossing the street. They must be headed back to the office. How long have Mom and Martin been enjoying lunch breaks together? Should I be worried? Is my mom entering a relationship with a rapist?

  I stand outside and watch them walk away until I can’t make them out anymore. Jenny comes up the walk, dressed casually.

  “Hi, Ms. Marvel.”

  “Hi, Jessica.” She smiles briefly, but it’s forced. “I’m so sorry to hear about Maxx and what happened the other night.”

  “Thanks. But that’s not why I asked you to meet.” I lead her into the coffee shop, and we both order some cappuccinos before sitting at a table.

  Jenny crosses her legs and sips her coffee. “You read the letters?”

  I nod. “You knew where she was the whole time. You knew there was a baby.”

  Jenny wraps her hands around her paper mug. “I did. Amber…” She glances around like someone might be listening. “She found out she was pregnant shortly before her parents were arrested. Days before. She kept it to herself duri
ng that period. But when she came to stay with me at my house, she told me.”

  “Was she scared?”

  “Terrified.” Jenny admits.

  “And the baby? She believed it to be Jackson’s?”

  Jenny nods. “I know the reality is it could’ve been Martin’s, but the timeline would’ve been tight. Still, possible. Amber couldn’t have gone on if she believed the baby was created that night between Martin and her. I think with everything else going on, she had to believe it was Jackson’s.”

  I swallow hard. “She sounds fragile.”

  “She was strong,” Jenny corrects me. “But she was beaten down by the cruelty of this town. No one here will ever tell you how they treated her. Once she died, everyone behaved like she was a saint, and Bay Harbor worshipped her. Neither is true.”

  I shift uncomfortably in my seat. “What happened after she told you she was pregnant?”

  Jenny nods and takes up the story. “She wanted to tell Jackson, but his mother was determined to keep them apart, and Penelope threatened Amber to stay away. Offered her money. When someone started following Amber, she became scared. She thought if she got too close to Jackson, Penelope might have her killed.”

  I startle. “Why would she think that?”

  “You’re not from this town, so you wouldn’t know the stories throughout the decades. The Sinclairs and Alistairs were rumored to be tied to crimes and scandals all through the ages. Even the Chetwoods weren’t innocent. Amber knew they played life like a high-stakes poker game. If Penelope thought Amber was a threat to Jackson’s future, she’d do what she needed to, to get Amber out of the way.”

  I sip my coffee. “So you decided to hide her away?”

  “Her birth mother lived a few hours away, but nothing drastic. We thought if Amber went there, had her baby, and could get Jackson to travel out to her, they could run off together.” Jenny shakes her head. “It’s a plan a group of teenagers would believe in.”

  “So, you picked homecoming as the perfect cover.”

  Jenny nods. “That was Carolyn’s idea, but yes. We all did our part to get Amber out of town. Jackson immediately knew something was wrong and rushed off to find her, but we knew he wouldn’t. I never knew the grief he’d feel. Or how desperate he’d become, but we stuck to the story because we didn’t have a choice. Then things changed.”

  “What changed?”

  “Carolyn grew distant. Cold. She and Jackson grew close while Amber was missing, and I couldn’t say anything. Not without putting Amber in danger. But Carolyn knew Amber was still alive. I felt like she shouldn’t have led him on like that. Penelope, though, was over the moon with the new coupling.”

  Jenny takes a big sip of her coffee and folds her napkin. She looks physically pained as she continues on. “It wasn’t long before they were engaged but…Jackson was never happy. I don’t think he ever loved her. I think he just simply gave up. That part is all my fault, but I never knew what to do. Then when Amber’s body washed up…”

  “What did you do?”

  “I tried to lead the police in the right direction, but it was clear right from the start, it wasn’t a case that would be solved. Rumor was there was pressure from the major families to sweep it under the rug. Carolyn’s wedding was rushed, rumor was she was pregnant and already beginning to show. I saw Jackson sometimes, but he was always at his wife’s side. He stopped being friends with everyone. The drinking was already bad. And the longer time went on, the worse it grew. Some people started to whisper they saw her ghost around town, and—she was crying.” Jenny wipes at her eyes and her chin quivers. “I failed my best friend.”

  “What do you think happened?”

  “She came back to town to see Jackson. Maybe tell him about the baby. And someone who didn’t want that to happen killed her. Penelope could’ve hired someone. I think that’s most likely. But why? Carolyn was already well situated as the next Sinclair, and pregnant with the next heir. Could it have been Martin? Perhaps. He wed right after high school to a girl no one knew, but he still carried a torch for Amber. She wasn’t a girl you just forgot.”

  I nod. “I’m starting to get that. And the baby? What do you think happened to her?”

  Jenny casts me a sharp look. “What do you think?”

  My jaw clenches, and I resist what she’s trying to say. “I’m not even the right age. It can’t be me. If I was adopted, my parents would’ve told me.” Maybe I’m clinging to my truth, but it’s the only one I have. But my age, I’m not old enough to be Amber Chetwood’s baby.

  “You show up here looking just like her… These letters, I’m sure, are meant for you, Jessica. You’re Amber Chetwood’s daughter. You have to be. It’s the only way any of this makes sense.”

  I try to swallow my coffee, but it will barely go down. “Thank you for the information.”

  “Be careful out there. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you better news. For the record, it is so nice to know you. You’re just as beautiful as she was. I see her tenacity in you and her kindness.” Jenny picks up her coffee and leaves the coffee shop.

  Meanwhile, I’m struck with melancholy. Amber Chetwood should’ve had it all, but because of mistakes made by her parents, it was all taken from her. Her life was changed forever, and maybe mine was, too.

  I return home before Mom can miss me and tidy up the living room. I take leftovers out of the fridge for dinner. I return upstairs to read the letters over again.

  The only problem is, they aren’t there.

  My room has been trashed. Everything’s been turned upside down. My bed has the sheets thrown off of it, and my drawers’ contents are empty on the rug. I grow cold and clammy. Whoever killed Amber now has her letters, but they didn’t get the phone or the old key. They’re still in my bag, which is never far from me.

  Still, I’m creeped out that someone was in my house and going through my things while I wasn’t home. I take out my phone and consider calling the police, but I pause. If I call them, they’d be wise to what I was doing. I’m too afraid to make that move.

  I head into the bathroom to wash my face. I need to pull myself together. I can be smarter than they are.

  As I’m drying myself with a blue towel, I notice my razor blade sitting in the sink. I pick it up and stare at it before tossing it into the garbage bin. I’m over self-sabotaging myself. I’m ready for a fresh start and a new beginning—something Amber desperately wanted but never got.

  It’s three o’clock in the afternoon when I hear a noise coming from the living room. I rush down the hall to the stairwell, knowing I locked the door. Mom isn’t due home for another two hours. So, who could it be? Do killers just walk through the front door now?

  There’s a man standing just inside the doorway, a set of keys in his hand. He stares up at me with his familiar blue eyes. He’s in a relaxed pair of blue jeans, a t-shirt, and a jean jacket. He smiles and goosebumps rise up over my arms. “Hey, kiddo.”

  My mouth parts, and I whisper his name. “Dad.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  “Hi, honey.” He runs his hand through his short brown hair. “Wow, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

  “That’s news to me.” I bristle, and my posture goes super rigid. I’m still standing on the stairs, and I can’t find the will to move further. My balance feels shaky, so I steady myself by holding onto the banister.

  He sighs and plays with his keys. “I have a lot to answer for. I know I made mistakes, but I did miss you. Every day. I just… How are you?”

  Mistakes are what you do when you break an egg while making an omelet. He chose to ignore me and pretend I didn’t exist for over six months. “How’d you know where to find us?” And more importantly, where did he get a key?

  “Your mother left me a message and—”

  “Just one message?”

  “Okay, I deserve that. There’s no excuse, but my head is on straight now. I’ll never be that stupid or selfish again. As soon as I heard what happened to y
our friend and that you were there…everything snapped into place. I knew I had to come back and grovel on my knees to get you to forgive me.”

  I cross my arms. “You’re going to have to grovel really hard.” I tap my foot without meaning to. I’m mad. I hate him. But he’s saying everything I’ve dreamed he’d say.

  I can’t trust it. I can’t trust him.

  But my heart really, really wants to.

  “I’ll grovel as hard as you want me to.” Dad steps up and puts his hand on the banister next to mine. If he thinks I’m going to touch his hand, he has another thing coming. “In fact, I was thinking about a trip. Just the two of us. We’ll go away while your mom gets the house sold.”

  Is that what this is? A ploy to get me out of town? “And then what?”

  “I have a place for all of us. We can settle, regroup, and figure out our next plan. It doesn’t have to lead us anywhere specific just yet. After everything that’s happened here, don’t you think a fun trip with your dear old dad would do you some good?”

  “I can’t just go. I have to go to Maxx’s wake. I owe her that much. Until that happens, I’m not going anywhere. Besides, this is my new home.”

  Dad’s face flickers, and it’s obvious he’s disappointed with my answer. “All right. I guess I’m staying, too.”

  “And you and Mom are okay? She’s just going to let you move right in?” I’m incredulous at the notion. Mom’s been so angry at him since he left.

  “We’re working through things.” There’s an understatement. “It won’t be easy, but we’re committed.”

  Interesting. I wonder what else is going on. I fear I know the answer already. Mom called Dad and told him about the situation with Maxx; maybe they discussed how Bay Harbor wasn’t safe for me.

  “Am I adopted?” The question tumbles out of my mouth all at once, like it’s one long syllable.

  Dad startles. “Of course not, Jess.” He grins like it’s the craziest thing he’s ever heard. “What would make you ask such a question?”