by S. Y. Robins
I was so embarrassed. Almost thirty years old and I was terrified of a so-called haunted house. I tried to smile. "I'm alright. Just - it's a little weird to be here so close to where Cassandra died."
"Right." He tried to look like he believed me.
I took a deep breath. "Anyway, I'm here to look for answers. Clues. Anything."
Robert nodded. He started looking around.
My eyes were beginning to adjust to the dark. Actually, after a second look it didn't seem so bad in here. "Hard to believe that no one has lived here in over thirty years..." I murmured, looking around. "It almost looks... like it's been tidied."
I walked over to a table. It was covered in dust, but heavier in some places than others. Like objects had been moved. "Does anyone still actually own this place?"
Robert was silent. "I don't think so, but people... use it, from time to time."
"Use it for what? I thought people were too scared to come in here."
He flashed me a grin. A grin I remembered only too well. There was a fluttering in my stomach that I hadn't felt for a long time. "Not everyone believes this place is haunted, Al. We're not all superstitious."
"Do you mean - you use this place?" I asked slowly. He turned away. I was immediately sorry. Damn. We'd just started getting along again. The first time he'd seemed to soften towards me, and I'd already pushed him away.
But I had to know. "Were you using this place that night? With Cassandra, I mean?"
He didn't look at me.
"No. I mean-" he shook his head. "What does it matter?"
I looked around at the dusty cabin. "It matters if you were up here, meeting up with Cassandra at 4am in the morning! It means you were the last person to see her alive!"
He spun around. "I didn't see her alive that night! I only saw her dead."
"Why were you up here?"
He sighed. "Because Cassandra called me, and asked me to come up here."
"I knew it," I said, shaking my head.
"Allison, it's not like that!"
"What is it like then?"
"She called me, scared, okay? She'd been out celebrating her win that night, and as she was walking home, she said she'd walked past the cabin and seen someone in there." He looked around. "In here."
I shivered. "Who?"
"I don't know. She was a little tipsy, I think. Told her she must be imagining it - that no one lives in this cabin or had for decades. But I was worried about her all alone so I came out looking for her. That's all. That's when I found her." He looked down at the floor.
"Why did you care so much that you'd come after her at 4am?" I couldn't help the tone I was speaking in, sounding like a jealous girlfriend.
He looked up, surprised. "Because I would care if anyone called me that late at night, if they were out on their own."
"Did you and Cassandra have a thing?" I couldn't stop myself from asking.
He threw his hands up in frustration. "For crying out loud, Allison. This is none of your business now. It stopped being your business a long time ago." He grabbed his coat and turned to walk to the front door. "And for the record, NO. Not that it matters." He pulled the door behind him and I heard his footsteps head back down the trail of the hill.
"Don't worry about me!" I called out. "I'm not scared of this place!"
I sighed when there was no response, regretting the whole entire fight. I shouldn't have pressed him about Cassandra. What was I so jealous for anyway? He was right that it wasn't any of my business.
I was the one who had chosen to leave twelve years ago, on our last day of high school. When he had proposed to me, asked me to marry him. What could I do though? We were both seventeen! I didn't want to spend all my life in Curtain Bay! So I'd left, and I'd never known how to face him again. Couldn't bear to show my face here again or to see his.
I sighed and sat down on an empty chair, burrowing my face in my arms. What was I going to do now? No job, stuck back here in Curtain Bay... now Robert was mad at me. But why was that making me so upset? Why was I still feeling like I was that silly seventeen-year-old girl who had run away all those years ago?
Then there was that niggling thought I couldn't shake. That maybe Robert had something to do with Cassandra's death. Why had he run to her rescue that night? Who even answers their phone at 4am in the morning?
I lifted my head and sniffled, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. Time to pull yourself together Allison, I told myself. No point crying about things that happened so long ago. All I could do now was try to put things right again.
If I could find out who killed Cassandra, then I could start setting things right. I could prove Robert hadn't done it; then he might talk to me again. And there was another silver lining; I might get my story after all. Then my career might get back on track.
And I could leave Curtain Bay again. For good this time.
5
With all my distress, I'd forgotten where I was. A creaking noise behind me made me snap back to reality and I spun around. Right. I was in the Witch's Cabin.
That was stupid though, right? Just because it was dark, and creepy, and possibly haunted, and no one had lived here for three decades, and people died here... that didn't mean the place was scary.
Yeah right. All alone up here, in this creepy old shack, I wasn't a confident secure almost-thirty-year-old anymore. I was that same seventeen-year-old girl I'd been when I'd left. There was another creaking. I squinted and looked towards the wall.
Oh god, I have to get out of here, I thought.
I stumbled backwards and reached my hands out behind me, hitting the table where I'd been sitting. I spun around and grabbed my handbag, intending to leave, but the bag knocked over a pile of books in the same place where the dust was thinner, like someone had been there recently. A piece of paper fell out of one of the books. I noticed right away that it was crisp and clean - fresh paper, not old and musty like the other books that lay there falling to bits.
The doors and walls continued to creak as I picked up the piece of paper, unfolding it, turning it over to see what was on it.
Recipe for Chocolate Cheesecake.
My heart started thumping as the back door flew open.
* * *
"Mr. – Mr. Sherman..." I stammered, stepping backwards, hitting the table again. I looked around frantically for another exit. The only door was right behind Mr. Sherman. I was cornered.
"What are you doing up here Allison?"
I tried to quickly think of a good explanation for being there, as Gary crept closer and closer to me. My heart was racing, and it wasn't just because I was being pressed up against the wall by a killer.
All of a sudden it felt like a blinding light flashing through my mind, and everything that had happened two months earlier came flashing back. I leant forward, out of breath, feeling like I was having a panic attack.
There I had been - the images came back thick and fast. I'd been chasing a story - the biggest story I'd ever been assigned to - about an infamous family in the criminal underworld. I'd been getting close to one of the sons - Anthony - for the story of course, just so that I'd have material for my expose, when he'd found out what I was up to, and cornered me in one of the factories his family owned.
A flash; a knife. Another flash; my back pressed against steel bars. Then another flash; the sound of me almost choking as I was saved at the last minute by a police team. Anthony ended up with a four-year sentence, but I haven’t felt safe since.
I wasn't able to save my career. I could barely bring myself back into the office after that, let alone go out on any other stories. I made one excuse after another about why I couldn't work, why I couldn't take on a story. Stressing myself out. Getting no sleep. Partying. Burning through my credit card. Till it all got too much and I self-combusted, told off my boss, the editor of the paper, in front of the entire staff. Made a fool of myself. Got fired. And ended up back in Curtain Bay.
And all for what? Because I'd gotten scared? I sho
uld have brushed myself off after the incident, gotten back on the horse, kept working, and kept chasing stories. Instead, I'd acted the same way I had when I was seventeen, and the love of my life asked me to marry him. I got scared and ran away.
Suddenly, I was back in the present moment. And Gary Sherman was pressing me up against the wall, demanding to know what I was doing there.
"I suppose you think your Miss Big Shot now, don't you?"
I shook my head. "I really don't, actually." I surprised myself by how calm my voice sounded. I'd expected it to shake, to crack.
I pushed him off me. I wasn't going to be scared this time. Or run away.
"Why did you do it Gary? Because she won the Cheesecake Competition over you? Well you've got the title now. I guess your plan all worked out. Kill off Cassandra, then steal her crown."
I'd made an even worse choice of winner the second time round than I had the first.
He shook his head. "You don't know anything, Allison."
"I know you killed Cassandra. But over a cheesecake? Geez, don't you have anything else to occupy your time?"
"I followed your career Allison," he said, menacingly.
My eyes shot wide open. "What does that mean?" I took a good look at him for the first time. My career? Why would he have any interest in anything I'd done once I'd left Curtain Bay? I hated him knowing that my journalism career was in the toilet. But had I really disappointed him that much that he would try to threaten me? And why had he hurt Cassandra?
"I hear you set up my nephew, Anthony, real good..." his tone was menacing.
"What the..." I murmured, searching his face? No, he couldn't be related. I shook my head. Then again, that family had connections everywhere. They'd probably known all along who I was, and where I was from. They would have kept tabs on me, told Gary I was back in town.
"Why did you kill Cassandra?" I asked, my voice strong and steady. This was a rematch. My second shot. This time I wasn't going to cower away. I had to know why Gary had done it.
"I thought she was you," he spat out. "Out there that night, walking alone. I heard her calling up your old sweetheart Robert, and I assumed."
I looked around the cabin for some kind of weapon to grab. If he had tried to kill me once, he could do it again. There was nothing within grabbing distance, so I just pushed him off me. "So this was never about the cheesecakes?" I was breathing deeply, trying to keep steady as I made my way towards the exit, the ever looming threat of him about to attack me still present.
"Well that was a bonus," he said, eyes still gleaming. "It was kind of funny that you crowned me the winner. Thanks for that, by the way. Got Joy annoyed again. Now she'll be blamed for Cassandra's death, as well as yours..."
My heart started racing even faster.
Gary continued on. "I knew it was only a matter of time before you started creeping around in this cabin again - you kids always were obsessed with it. I just had to wait for you to come back up here. Surprised it wasn't you the other night, actually."
I thought back to when we were all kids, how the teachers – Mr. Sherman included - always told us off for our stories and dares about the old cabin.
"So how's this story going to end, then Allison? Do you have a big scoop now?" He lunged towards me, reaching his hands around my neck, and I knew I only had seconds to act.
I lifted up my leg and kicked him as hard as I could, and he went flying backwards, hitting his head on the table as he fell.
There was the sound of someone pushing the door open, and I spun around. Robert flung the door open and burst through. "Allison?" he asked frantically, running over to check I was alright.
"I'm okay," I said, as he quickly put his arm around me, before turning his attention to Gary lying on the ground.
"Robert, don't, he's... he's dangerous..." I warned him.
"Allison if he was going to hurt you, I am going to kill him."
"Rob-"
I stopped at the sound of police sirens and looked through the open door.
"How did they..." I started, then I saw Cheryl coming up the hill behind the cops, with Mom in tow; the big yellow school bus behind them.
Thank god for small towns.
* * *
I shot Robert a wry look. "I honestly can't believe this is the third Cheesecake Competition I am hosting this week."
He laughed back at me. "Come on, you love it now."
"I actually don't." I put my hands on my hips, teasingly. "Every time I judge one of these, someone winds up dead, or almost dead."
"Well, come on," he prodded. "Time to announce the winner."
I sighed, and turned back to the crowd. It didn't matter what had happened, this town still took this competition so seriously that they'd stopped whatever they were doing to attend it for the third time.
"I am pleased to announce, that the winner - the real, and final winner - of the annual Curtain Bay Cheesecake Competition is... Joy Robinson!"
Beaming, Joy climbed up on the podium and gave her thanks, before leaning over and giving me a hug. "Thanks for finally making the right choice, Allison."
I gave her a squeeze back. "I should have chosen you in the first place."
We looked at each other for a moment, and I moved away from the mic. "I'm sorry I lost touch all these years. I should have checked in, should have come back. I didn't even know about your husband. I just swooped back in here, thinking I knew everything."
"Hey, it's okay," she replied. "I knew everything that had happened to you in the city and I still gave you a hard time." She looked a bit guilty. "Plus, I knew how hard it had been for you to leave all those years ago. Even if it seemed like you were running away."
I sighed. "Well, I'm not running away now."
"You're not?"
I looked over at Robert, who was waiting for me to join him off to the side of the stage. Next to him stood Mom, beaming proudly, not bothered, after all, that I had to come back to Curtain Bay in disgrace. I was still her daughter, and she loved me. And Robert - well, maybe there was hope there after all.
"No, I'm not running away," I replied.
THE END
Gone Missing
Cozy Mystery
About the Book
Milly Dupont is recovering from an attack that nearly took her life and is settling back into the new normal. Her secret crush, Callum Davidson, has moved in next door and has brought his nephew Jake with him. Milly soon becomes aware that people have started to lose items from their homes and suspects it may be Jake but isn’t sure. Then a local family from Wirkster is found murdered in what cops are calling a ritualistic fashion, and Milly is almost certain it’s Jake when she finds a rather unique shirt covered in blood and thrown away in the woods. Is the young, often sullen, Jake capable of such a crime or is he really just the innocent, abandoned child she thinks he is?
With the help of Edgar, her trusty tomcat, and the ever tempting Callum, Milly soon discovers there’s far more going on in Wirkster than she ever knew about and what she doesn’t know can hurt her!
1
October
Milly Dupont looked around the kitchen area of her tea shop as she decided whether she should actually hit play on the playlist or not. If anyone from the village heard her playing these songs, the whole place would know she was listening to music too obscene to even repeat the words in public! With a sly grin, Milly decided it was worth it to start her morning off right, and she hit play. Instantly, her new sound system, designed to play off of her new mobile phone, filled the small kitchen with a heavy bass and a woman’s voice singing about her current mood. Milly gave a delighted shout of laughter, threw her head back and began her morning ritual of decorating cream cakes while she danced around her kitchen.
Edgar, her black tomcat, along with Daisy and Mildred; the terriers she adopted when her friend and neighbour, Davina, had been cruelly cut down, leaving them ownerless, all stared up at her, twisting their heads with her movements. This was also part o
f their morning routine now, first a walk then Mummy danced around the kitchen, badly, to music that was somehow worse than her dancing. They often looked at each other in confusion, as if conferring on whether Milly had finally lost her sanity or not. They hadn’t come to a consensus yet but they were close, those looks seemed to say.
Milly was finally learning to get past Davina’s loss. Her subsequent kidnapping and the shock of having her whole world turned upside down was starting to ease, and though Milly still feared the night and being alone, she was finally starting to get some sleep at night. That was probably helped by the fact that Callum, and his nephew Jake, had moved in with Thomas, Davina’s grandson, next door. They were only a thump on the wall away and Callum usually spent an hour with her in the evenings, making sure everything went smoothly as she shut her tea shop down.
As she decorated the cakes, her thoughts turned to the ever increasing talk around town about household items going missing from the villagers’ homes. The odd loo brush and tea towels were the first things to go missing. Now other things like microwaves, blankets, clothes, even pots and pans had started to go missing. Milly totted up the items and realized that the thief, for she had a feeling microwaves didn’t just get misplaced, was apparently doing up their home with loot. It wasn’t like you could get rid of a used loo brush after all, or sell it on Ebay.
Milly thought it an odd way to stock your home but knew people did strange things in desperate times. This wasn’t any different. She had a few ideas of who the culprit could be but dismissed them easily. She totted up her suspect list and realized there were only really four people on it. First there was Jake, Callum’s nephew. The boy’s mother had abandoned him in his last year of school when she ran off to California of all places, to get married. Seems she didn’t want Jake there, ruining her “vibe” as his mother called it, and the boy came to live with Callum not long after Callum made the move to Thomas’s flat. Then there was Thomas. And finally, the new couple that Milly had thought were only tourists that not-so-long-ago day when Callum had discovered the shop ruined and Davina missing. The couple, now known to be the Hendersons, had moved into one of the abandoned homes that cropped up when home prices soared, presumably after purchasing it. Home owners moved away, thinking they were going to make a pretty penny on a house that they soon found they couldn’t sell in a bad economy.