Beyond the Dark Waters Trilogy

by Graham West

  Sebastian shook his head. “I don’t think it was love—it was a connection. A powerful connection. Reece knew that Kayla had been rejected by her father, just as he had been rejected. He knew she had been abused the way he had been abused. It also meant that the revenge he sought on her behalf was his revenge also.”

  The old professor handed the letter to Jenny. “And before you ask, no, I don’t believe in Satan—not as an entity, anyway.”

  “I don’t know what I believe anymore.” She sighed.

  Sebastian reached over and took her hand in his. “Does it matter?” he asked softly. “Does it matter if Reece was a victim of a demon or just mentally ill? The fact is, you’re alive. You survived.”

  Jenny smiled. “Yes,” she said defiantly. “I did, didn’t I!”

  Six Months Later

  Jake insisted that they all sat around the table at least once a month for a family meal, but Josie and Kayla had noticed he was fussing more than usual today. “Do you think he seems a bit…on edge?” she asked Rob. He nodded just as Jake reappeared from the kitchen with a tray of ice cream sundaes.

  “Hope you like these,” he said. “They’re Jenny’s favourite!”

  “Hey, I love any ice cream,” Darren replied, sounding like an excited schoolboy.

  Jake grinned. He had taken a new role in the kitchen recently and had amassed a library of cookbooks by just about every celebrity chef on TV.

  Sebastian patted his lips with a crisp white napkin. “So, tell me about the honeymoon.”

  “It rained,” Darren interrupted. “It always does in Blackpool!”

  Jenny laughed. “Smart arse! Cancun was beautiful, Mr. Tint. Two weeks of sea, sand and—”

  “Sex!” Darren muttered under his breath.

  Jenny gave her brother a playful slap. “Hey! No more wine for you!”

  Kayla went to grab his champagne glass, but Darren was too quick. “Not in a million years, girly!” he joked.

  Kayla poked him hard in the ribs, and soon they were engaged in a one-armed wrestle as Sebastian watched them with a smile. He viewed all of the young adults in the family with a transparent affection, particularly Darren, who had worked hard for acceptance. So hard, in fact, that even Jake had learned to respect him a long time before he actually grew to like the boy.

  Gordon Huxley had taken Darren on as an apprentice, and he made the fifty-mile trip to Tabwell each day, working with Jake on the cabins at the adventure park. He was quick to learn, and Jake reluctantly began to enjoy his company. Plus, he worked hard and had managed to find himself a flat less than a mile away. Kayla liked him too, although she insisted it was just a brother-and-sister thing.

  Jenny spent as much time as possible with her brother but had decided she needed to concentrate on her life with Jake. Besides, they were married now. The wedding had gone by without a hitch, and as expected, Gordon had thought of everything but the weather. Thankfully, while the sun failed to make an appearance, it hadn’t rained either.

  Jake had proven himself to be a family man, although Jenny guessed that her husband only called these communal meals to show off his cooking skills. Whatever the motive, it was a chance to spend time together, and that was important, particularly when two of the family members had arrived in their late-teens.

  As for Sebastian, everyone loved the old guy. Darren had developed a genuine fondness for the old professor and would arrive on his doorstep unannounced at least twice a week. They got on well, although things hadn’t always been so easy around the house. Sometimes Rob snapped at Darren, and Jenny knew her father would never forget how Elizabeth and Hanna had died.

  Rob looked at his daughters. His two girls. Kayla had her mother’s free spirit, and he admired her. She had lived through a traumatic experience, and few girls would have come through the other side so well-balanced and level-headed. He had caught sight of Kayla walking from the bathroom naked early one morning; he’d seen the marks and the tattoo and had wept openly that night.

  Josie sometimes found him in a reflective mood and knew he wished he could have been there for the daughter he’d known nothing about. But one day, she would meet someone who would let the past go and love her for the girl she had become.

  Kayla had accepted she could not have known what Caden Reece was up to. The letter had indeed brought her a kind of closure, for which she was grateful, because Reece had taken his own life that very night. His demons, real or imagined, had returned. It was only four hours after his death that Jenny had seen those demons breaking free of their host beneath the waters of Mosswood Lake.

  Josie poured herself another glass while Jake fussed. Kayla and Darren were still behaving like children, and Sebastian was still watching like an old king surveying his subjects. But Rob had noticed that Jenny seemed distracted. She’d not touched her champagne.

  “That’s not like you,” he mouthed across the table.

  Jenny blushed. “I’m going to tell you now,” she said, tapping her glass with a fork. “Quiet, please!”

  Everyone stopped talking. Darren released Kayla’s arm as Rob studied his daughter. Please don’t tell us you’re moving to Australia or something.

  Jenny caught his eye. “I have an announcement to make. I want to say thank you to my dad for being the best dad any girl could ever want or need.”

  “Hear, hear!” Kayla whispered under her breath.

  “And I know,” Jenny continued, “that you’re going to be a brilliant grandfather too!”

  Rob Adams stared at his daughter. “What?”

  Jake laughed. “We’re having a baby, Mr. Adams!”

  Josie and Kayla let out ear-piercing squeals, while Rob punched the air. Sebastian Tint watched from his seat at the top of the table, a gentle smile crossing his face.

  “I’m eight weeks,” Jenny continued, “and no, we are not going to ask if it’s a boy or a girl. It’s going to be a surprise.” She turned to Josie. “Would you be godmother?”

  Josie clasped her hand over her mouth and stifled another squeal.

  Jake held up his hand. “Okay, that’s a yes, then.”

  They all laughed as Jenny rapped on the table. They fell silent once more. “But every child needs a godfather, and I don’t think there’s any doubt who that should be.”

  Everyone turned to look at Sebastian.

  “Who? Me?” The old man looked slightly bewildered by the vote of confidence.

  Jenny nodded. “Who else? You would be perfect. Will you accept?”

  Sebastian nodded. “Of course,” he said, his voice, cracking. “I’d be honoured!”

  “Well, that’s sorted, then,” Jake said. “And, of course, Darren and Kayla will be our chief babysitters.”

  Darren laughed. “Yeah, right! You can’t afford us.”

  Rob glanced over at Jenny. She had never looked more radiant or beautiful.

  “Are you happy, sweetheart?” he asked softly.

  Jenny nodded. “I’ve never been happier, Dad.”

  Sebastian Tint took a sip of his champagne as tears welled up in his eyes. He was at home here. It may not have been his house, but these were his people. They were his family, and he loved them with all his heart.

  Jenny saw the tear trickle down the old man’s cheek and, for a few seconds, their eyes met.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He read her lips and smiled. It was one of those moments the old professor would remember for the rest of his days.

  C’EST PAS FINI.

  About Mosswood

  On the edge of Tabwell lies a forest where the dark secrets of the past wait to be uncovered…

  It all began when Jenny Adams first dreamed of a young girl imprisoned in a dark attic. Now, over six years later, she’s back where the nightmares started.

  Mosswood has been transformed into a successful adventure park, and it is there Jenny meets troubled, flame-haired teen Bailey Rosales, and Cody Nelson, a seven-year-old who has some very special friends. Dead frie
nds.

  Why is Dennis Blakely, the park manager, tormented by visions of his own horrific demise, and why is an ex-councillor warning them to stay out of the forest at all costs?

  Once again, Jenny finds herself calling on the spirit of Amelia Root in the search for answers, but it is a search that leads the whole family into a terrifying confrontation with Tabwell’s past and the secrets that lurk beyond the dark waters of Mosswood’s lake.

  Prologue

  Cody Nelson looked younger than his seven and a quarter years. He still possessed something of a baby face with piercing blue eyes that peered out from under a mop of crazy blonde hair. Laura and Peter Nelson had often considered taking their doll-like boy along to one of those child-modelling agencies, but Cody wasn’t keen on the idea. He wasn’t interested in anything beyond his sketchpad and his special friends.

  The Nelsons had never been religious, but they had started attending church. Maybe, if they got Cody baptised, or whatever it was you did with kids these days, then it would all stop. His friends would drift away, out of his head and out of their lives forever.

  Reverend Francis, incumbent at the church for the past six years, seemed pleased to see them, particularly as they had become regulars. He knew only too well that a minister needed to keep hold of his congregation, even in a place like Tabwell, where so many locals still regarded Sundays as sacred.

  Cody didn’t mind the sermons, which impressed many of the parishioners who thought it quite unusual for a young boy to sit quietly anywhere, let alone in church. A pencil and a sketchpad kept him happy throughout the service, sitting on the back pew. He drew faces, although they were often faces his parents were anxious to keep away from the prying eyes of others, particularly a man of God.

  The reverend glanced down at the little blonde-haired boy. “I believe you’re a bit of an artist, young man!”

  Cody nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah,” he replied, waving the sketchpad in the air.

  Francis patted his head. “That’s great. You might be famous, one day. Like those people who paint portraits of the queen.”

  Cody smiled politely. He wasn’t sure if he really wanted to paint the queen. Everyone could see the queen. There was nothing special about her.

  Laura Nelson grabbed the sketchpad from her son’s hands and thrust it into her handbag. Cody didn’t flinch. He was used to his mother doing that kind of thing. No, he had something more important on his mind.

  “Do you believe in heaven?” he asked the minister, his blue eyes peering up innocently from beneath the curtain fringe.

  Francis seemed taken aback. “Well, of course I do,” he answered with a nervous smile. “Don’t you?”

  “No, I don’t,” Cody replied emphatically.

  Peter Nelson grabbed his son’s shoulder. “That’s enough, young man. Let’s get going.”

  Francis raised his eyebrows as Cody pushed his father’s hand aside. “You don’t? Why ever not?”

  The little boy looked offended by the question. “Because dead people always look so miserable.”

  “Cody!” his mother interrupted, pulling at his arm. “That’s enough!”

  “But I’m just telling the—”

  Peter Nelson swept his son up into his arms. “I’m so sorry, Reverend. He just comes out with this stuff. He has a vivid imagination.”

  The couple turned without a handshake, and Francis watched in bemusement as they made a hasty retreat down the path, exiting through the stone archway.

  Cody waved. “Bye-bye, Mr. Francis. See you next Sunday.”

  Peter Nelson strapped his son into the child seat in the back of the car. “I wish you wouldn’t say things like that.”

  Cody looked glum. “I was only going to tell him about our holidays, but you wouldn’t let me.”

  “Because you were going to start talking about your imaginary friends,” his mother said. “And you know how Mummy and Daddy feel about that, don’t you?”

  Cody scowled. “They’re not imaginary.”

  “Well, we’ve never seen any of them.” His father fired up the engine. “So they can’t be real.”

  “It’s because you have to have special eyes,” Cody replied wearily. “I’ve told you all this before.”

  “Stop giving cheek,” Laura Nelson snapped, fastening her seat belt. “You should start mixing with some friends from school. Real people. What about Jamie? He seems like a nice boy.”

  “Jamie’s a dork!” Cody shot back.

  “That’s a horrible thing to say about anyone,” his father retorted angrily. “You’ll never have any proper friends if you talk like that.”

  “I do have proper friends. I’m meeting one of them at the adventure park.”

  Laura turned. Cody was smiling back at her. “Hey, that’s good, Dee. Is it someone from school?”

  Cody shook his head.

  Peter Nelson had that familiar sinking feeling. “It’s one of your imaginary kids, I suppose?”

  Cody slammed his fist against the window. “He’s not imaginary, and he’s not a kid!”

  “We should be talking to the reverend about this stuff. It’s getting well out of hand.”

  Cody went on. “He’s a grown-up, and he said he’d meet me there.”

  “Cody, will you stop this? I’ve had enough!”

  “I’m telling you the truth. He’s real, honestly. He was sitting at the back of the church last week.”

  “Okay.” His mother sighed, flashing her husband a look that told him to back off. “How old is this man, then?”

  Cody looked out of the window. “I dunno…Dad’s age. I’ve got a picture of him in my book.”

  Laura felt a chill. She didn’t want to see any more of her son’s drawings. “What does this man do?”

  Cody was still staring out of the window, momentarily distracted by the ice cream parlour on the corner of the road. “He’s a gardener.”

  “And where does he work?” his father asked, suppressing his frustration.

  “He used to work at the adventure park, I think. When it was just somebody’s house. That’s why he’s meeting me there.”

  Laura glanced at her husband, rolling her eyes. “So does this man have a name?”

  Cody frowned. “Of course,” he replied impatiently. “His name is Jacob. Jacob Root.”

  Part One

  Chapter One

  There was an ethereal beauty about the forest at night. Mosswood’s visitors had taken to their beds, and a familiar silence fell across the park, but Dennis Blakely couldn’t sleep. Something—someone—drew him from his room once more. He stopped, spotting a familiar wooden structure up ahead. On clear days in high summer, a shaft of sunlight broke through the canopy of leaves, bathing the cycle bay in a ghostly glow, as if nature itself sought to illuminate the scene of his indiscretion. Tonight, it was lit only by the moon.

  Blakely moved on, each tentative step taking him closer. The whole forest echoed with the sound of snapping bracken beneath his feet as the branches overhead swayed lazily in the breeze. He arrived at the cycle bay to find it was empty. No bikes, no trikes. Blakely stepped under the wooden shelter to find there was nothing but a concrete floor.

  Something was wrong; it felt wrong. No one could have removed the metal stands without disturbing the floor. Yet there were no holes; not even the faintest sign of a crack. Blakely shuddered. He wanted to run, but then he heard a faint rumbling sound as the ground beneath him began to tremble. He tried to move, but his feet were fixed to the floor.

  The concrete began to crumble, slowly disintegrating into rubble. He looked down in horror as three prongs broke through the surface between his legs. He let out a scream that echoed through the forest as the prongs ripped through his bowels and stomach, smashing his ribs like fine china.

  The pain catapulted him forward, and Dennis Blakely sat up in his bed, soaked with perspiration, fighting for every breath.

  Penny turned, wakened once again by her husband’s cry. She reached o
ver, turning on the bedside lamp. “Hey, honey, are you okay?”

  He nodded, holding his stomach.

  “You need to get this sorted,” she added sleepily. “I mean, just look at you. You’re a mess!”

  Dennis Blakely was too busy fighting the pain. His whole chest was on fire. Penny knew nothing about the pitchfork or the cycle bay. As far as she was concerned, her husband had just been chased by Kim’s killer. That’s what he’d told her, and it sounded logical enough after what happened three years ago.

  “This is the second nightmare in a week.” She swung her legs from underneath the duvet. “I know it must have been horrible finding that girl’s body, but if it’s still haunting you…”

  Blakely flopped back onto the pillow. The migraine had kicked in again, and Penny was already on her way to the kitchen looking for a couple of pills from the first-aid box. Maybe he should get some help, but that might mean telling the truth. This wasn’t about Kim. This was about the body of Amelia Root’s father, which lay beneath the concrete. The cycle bay was his grave, and it was a shallow one at that. The grave his killers had given him over a century ago.

  The guilt had kicked in long before Mosswood Adventure Park had opened. He should have given the man a decent burial, but he’d been too afraid of his father. Another body would have slowed everything down and brought the ghoul hunters out in force. It seemed easier just to throw concrete over the remains and forget all about it. But he couldn’t. Jacob Root had haunted his dreams for the past six months, and the pain was getting worse each time. Blakely feared that one day he would not wake and the gardener’s fork would take his life.

  Chapter Two

  When Alex Keller lost his girl, they told him that his heart would heal. They told him that there were plenty more women out there and he would be over Danielle Stevens before the year was out. Alex was eighteen, too young to be thinking of settling down anyway. But Danni was his first love, and when she’d walked out, he had fallen apart.