Page 1 of Vanished in the Mist
Chapter One
Shanna Hudson didn’t believe in ghosts. She didn’t believe in the boogeyman. And she certainly wasn’t going to quake in fear over the so-called Phantom the locals claimed lived in the remote area of the Smoky Mountains above the town of Mystic Lake, an hour outside of Chattanooga, Tennessee. But as she stood in the late afternoon sun at the end of her sister’s dock overlooking the vast lake with the same name as the town, a tingle of uneasiness skittered up her spine. Not because of the myths and legends that surrounded this place, but because of one indisputable fact.
People had died in this lake.
So many had died or disappeared over the years that Mystic Lake was officially one of the deadliest lakes in North America, second only to Georgia’s Lake Lanier. Both of those lakes were deadly for the same reason: the hazards beneath their deceptively calm surfaces from when they’d been created by flood waters that submerged whole towns decades earlier.
There was one notable difference, though. Lake Lanier had been created on purpose, with the building of a dam to provide hydroelectric power and water to nearby towns. Mystic Lake’s inception was an act of nature, the result of a devastating confluence of storms that permanently rerouted a small river down the side of a mountain and buried a town, drowning most of its residents.
Shanna shivered as she looked out across the dark water and wondered just how many poor souls had met their end here. And how many cars, homes and entire trees lurked in the depths today, ready to snag a boat or tangle in a swimmer’s hair to add to the lake’s tragic history. From what her sister, Cassidy, had told her, the townspeople did what they could to make the lake safe. Known hazards were hauled out when feasible and budgets allowed. Warning signs had been posted in particularly treacherous areas. But there was no way to eliminate all potential threats. The lake was too deep, too big. Its waters covered thousands of acres of land and extended through the foothills for miles. Yet, in spite of the dangers, both locals and tourists flocked here to boat, fish, or swim, believing the worst wouldn’t happen to them.
Until it did.
In the decades since the lake had existed, not a single year had passed without at least one person dying in a mysterious boating accident or by drowning. Usually, it was a handful, sometimes even more.
She shook her head, still amazed that her sister had finally worn her down enough to get her to come here. But Cassidy’s most recent request had been different. Instead of pressuring Shanna to travel to Mystic Lake in her official capacity as a private investigator, Cassidy had offered her lakeside cabin for a week’s vacation while she and her husband went on a Caribbean cruise they’d won in a contest. Being teachers, it was hard to get permission to take a vacation in April, just weeks before the school year ended. But they were top performers and this was a special circumstance, so their dream trip had been approved.
Shanna was happy for both of them. They deserved this time away. And the invitation to Shanna to enjoy their cabin while they were gone had come at a time in her life when it was too tempting to pass up. The lure of escaping the mountingpressures of running her PI company, which was located in Morgantown, West Virginia, particularly after her last, exhausting case, had been too tempting to turn down. Well, that and because her ex-boyfriend was struggling to accept theexstatus of their relationship. Maybe her being out of town for a week would help Troy come to terms with their breakup. If not, if his stalking behavior continued to escalate, she’d have to escalate her response, too, by involving the police. Again.
She patted her right pants pocket, reassuring herself that her gun was there. Not that she expected to need it. But she wasn’t taking any chances, especially if Troy figured out where she’d gone and decided to make a surprise appearance. The ability to bring her gun was her sole reason for driving the nine hours rather than fly. She hadn’t wanted to deal with the hassle of declaring her weapon to airport security and being forced to store it in a checked bag, where it might besupposedlylost.
Guilt rose inside her, crowding out her concerns about her ex. Shanna had refused her sister’s many requests that she look into the disappearance of one of Cassidy’s high school students almost a year ago. And yet, here she was, for purely selfish reasons. But she’d always been clear with Cassidy when turning her down. Shanna didn’t have contacts in this area, no confidential informants or insider knowledge to help her solve the case. And besides that, her West Virginia PI license wasn’t valid in Tennessee.
Could she have looked into the case in an unofficial civilian capacity rather than as a private investigator? Yes. Of course. But she had no reason to expect that she’d do a better job in this unfamiliar area than the local police had. Plus, there was another reason she’d turned down her sister. It was the same reason that she’d refused to come here after Cassidy first moved to Mystic Lake two years ago, when she’d gotten married.
Shanna was afraid of the water.
Not the drinking kind or the showering kind. Her fear focused on anything large, deep, or scary, including lakes, ponds and even swimming pools, like the one where she’d nearly died as a young teen. She’d sworn off ever allowing herself to be that vulnerable again by going near or in the water. And until today, she’d kept that vow.
Part of keeping it meant refusing to search for her sister’s missing student, Tanya Jericho. After all, Tanya was believed to have perished in this lake a few weeks after her sophomore graduation, in May of last year. Since her body had yet to be found, she was still labeled as missing eleven months later. Investigating her disappearance would have meant spending time around the water, probably even going out on the lake in a boat. Since Cassidy knew about Shanna’s fear, she never should have asked her to work the Jericho case. Although, to be fair, her younger sister might not realize just how debilitating Shanna’s fear could sometimes be. Cassidy was too young to remember what had happened all those years ago. Only Shanna, her parents, her therapist, and the police knew the full terrifying truth about that day at the pool.
Squaring her shoulders, she turned her back to the water. Immediately breathing easier, she headed up the gently sloping hill to her sister’s log cabin. When she’d arrived earlier, she’d parked her silver Lexus beside it, but had left her suitcase at the bottom of the porch steps. She’d wanted to deal with the lake head-on, right away, instead of allowing dread to build up. Now, if Cassidy called and asked her, she could honestly say she’d faced her fear and was fine. More or less, even though her heart was racing and her palms were sweaty. No one needed to know that part.
She smiled at the clay pots with pink and white flowers spilling over their sides that hung from the porch railings. Unsurprisingly, the cabin’s foundation was also surroundedby flowers and shrubs. Her little sister and her husband both loved anything to do with nature. With it being full-on spring, they wouldn’t miss an opportunity to take advantage of the mild weather to grow something. There were probably plants inside the house too with detailed instructions on how Shanna should care for them this week.
She hauled her suitcase up to the wide wooden porch that ran across the front of the cabin and used the key that Cassidy had mailed her to unlock the door. Even after having been told it was a one-bedroom, one-bathroom cabin, she was still surprised at how small it was as she stood in the opening. Her sister and her husband’s high school teacher salaries meant they weren’t exactly flush with cash. But they could have afforded something bigger than this. They’d probably opted to devote the bulk of their mortgage money on expensive lakefront property rather than get a larger house in town on a much smaller, more affordable, lot. The view and unspoiled location would have been too hard for them to resist.
What mattered, of course, wasn’t the size of the cabin. What mattered was that Cassidy and her husband, Gavin, seemed happy. And they’d made a welcoming, cozy home here. The soaring vaulted ceiling saved the place from feeling claustrophobic even though it was probably a quarter the size of Shanna’s two-story brick home in West Virginia.
True to her sister’s personality, the wide open room with the sitting area to the left, the kitchen to the right with the table in the front corner near the door were all so clean they practically sparkled. The windows framed an impressive view of the lush, green Smoky Mountains. And the cabin was high enough on the hill that Shanna could focus on the Smokies, rather than the lake, when peering out those windows. It was the perfect setting for her planned week of solitude and peace. And once hersister returned, they could spend some time catching up before Shanna left for home.
The stress she’d been struggling with from her most recent case, her arguments with her ex and even her few minutes on the dock all seemed to lighten as she stepped across the threshold. It was as if she’d left her worries outside. It felt good. Really good.
She drew a deep breath, smiling as she turned and shut the door. But when she saw what was on the back of the door, the stress came hurtling back, like a fist slamming into her chest. A faded eight-by-ten piece of paper was taped to the door. Across the top, printed in large black letters was a heart-wrenching, ominous word.
MISSING
The color picture beneath the caption framed the smiling face of a young girl with long red hair and a smattering of freckles across her pale cheeks. Her bright blue eyes stared back at Shanna, making her throat tighten. This was the girl her sister had wanted her to try to find. Had Cassidy simply forgotten to take down the flyer? Or had she put it there to make Shanna feel guilty? Maybe it was worse than that. Maybe her little sister had tricked her and this wasn’t a simple vacation opportunity. The couple was probably hiding in the bedroom right now, waiting to ambush her and beg her to look for this girl. No, notthis girl. She was a real person and deserved to be thought of by her name, the name printed beneath her picture.
Tanya Jericho
She let out a shuddering breath and turned away, her good mood having completely evaporated.
“Cassidy? Are you here?” She headed to the door in the middle of the back wall and yanked it open. “Cassidy? Gavin?” Shestrode into the bedroom and glanced around, fully expecting one or both of them to be there. But aside from the king-size bed, with its patchwork quilt and the usual assortment of nightstands and a dresser, the room was empty. She checked the closet and surprisingly large, attached bathroom as well. Both were devoid of a sneaky sister or her equally sneaky husband.
Okay. Maybe assuming the worst about them was unfair. A faded poster of a girl who’d been missing for almost a year wasn’t enough evidence to prove her sister had an ulterior motive for inviting her here. Shanna strode back into the main room of the cabin, circling the two-tiered kitchen island to get a drink of water while trying to quiet the suspicions in her mind. But when she rounded the island, what she saw on the countertop by the sink had her tensing up again: a half-inch-thick manila folder. Her sister had promised to leave a note about the local sites, hiking trails and restaurants. Nothing about the thickness of that folder had her believing that’s what she’d find. Drawing a bracing breath, she took the folder to the table and flipped it open.
And swore, viciously.
