Page 1 of Lost Cause
1
Secrets. They wanted to stay buried. Deep. Hidden, often needing help to rise from the dark.
No matter. Abby Day was just the person to dig them up, starting tonight. She had to. Her friends and fellow teammates were counting on her to get this assignment and keep their company from going under.
She took a firm stance on the nearly deserted ferry as it cut through the turbulent water while powerful engines growled in a low rumble. The double-decker boat navigated through thick fog swirling like a living entity around them. She squinted to see her destination, but mist swallowed the island’s rugged outline, hiding the estate.
She shivered and tightened her coat against the damp chill—against whatever awaited her on Ravenhook Island.
The island wasn’t just remote—it was ignored by most. If you didn’t count the stories and the rumors. They continued to be whispered and shared on a regular basis.
Once home to six lavish houses for wealthy trendsetters, now most properties were in disrepair. Some deserted. A few remained to shelter recluses—long-term occupants like Mr.Lemoine, who’d desperately called the Lost Lake Locators team to report a mysterious theft on his secluded estate. She couldn’t shake his cryptic words.
Another shiver raked over her body.
Stow it. Keep your imagination in check. Think like the former sheriff you are.
Nothing good came from chasing unsettling shadows and jumping to conclusions. Hold back. Wait. Look for evidence. Tangible things. Things she could use in a court of law if it became necessary.
Right. Focus on something else.
Balancing against sudden swells, she zoned in on the lighthouse’s rotating beam struggling to light the way to the island. She held on, and the boat soon bumped against a large moss-covered dock with weak lights on tall poles that barely lit the way for the crew scurrying off the boat to secure heavy ropes so she could disembark.
Dressed in a green rain slicker, the burly captain opened the security gate and cast her a concerned look. “Remember, Ms. Day, we leave precisely at nine, and it’s the final ferry of the day. This island is the last place you want to be stranded for the night.”
“Don’t worry.” She lifted her shoulders in an attempt to appear fearless. “I’ll be back before it’s time to leave.”
Please make that true!
Her heart kicked into a rapid rhythm.
Chill. You’ve got this.
She crossed the narrow public road to the mansion’s long stairway. Her boots landed on the first step, and she raised her flashlight. Trees twisted with age, and severely overgrown hedges obscured part of the imposing estate, but the mansion’s grand front door came into view. Still, everything was cloaked in darkness. Everything.
If Mr. Lemoine was expecting her, wouldn’t he have left on a light?
Uneasiness creeping over her, she rested her free hand on her sidearm, pausing to listen. Behind her, distant waves crashed and the idling ferry engine hummed, but otherwise the night remained quiet.
She swung her flashlight through the fog to the 1800s Victorian, revealing thick vines of ivy crawling up the walls. Broken shutters shifted in the breeze.
The most interesting sight? Fragments from a shattered window shimmering beneath the porch.
The likely entry point for the thief? Maybe.
An air of neglect hung heavy in the cool night as she pounded on the thick wooden door. It swung open under her hand, rusted hinges protesting. Cold air spilled out from the darkness. She caught a whiff of damp wood and something older. Something rank.
Abby stood still, pulse ticking in her throat as the door finally settled open wide enough to step through, but just narrow enough to make her wonder if she should.
“Mr. Lemoine?” She poked her head around the door and called out. “It’s Abby Day. Are you here?”
Light seeped from under an interior door to the left of the dark, mysterious foyer. She waited for the door to open and Mr. Lemoine to appear, but nothing moved.
Had something terrible happened to him after they’d spoken?
Please don’t let this turn into a murder investigation.
She crept into the entry hall. Silence and shadows clung to the dark walls, seeping into corners. Above the grand staircase at the back of the room, light beamed through a cracked windowpane, projecting splintered patterns on the floor.
