Little Girl Lost

by Laurèn Lee

  Little Girl Lost

  Crimson Falls Novella

  Laurèn Lee

  Copyright © 2019 by Laurèn Lee

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  CRIMSON FALLS

  2019

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The Crimson Falls Novella Series

  Also by Laurèn Lee

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  For Emerald O’Brien for organizing the Crimson Falls series and being a great friend!

  CRIMSON FALLS

  The worst place to be in early October is the town of Crimson Falls.

  In the late 1800’s, two brothers stumbled upon an unnamed village, surrounded by thick forest and fresh water to keep them protected and alive. The brothers were cruel men who wanted a home to call their own. In their darkest hour, the brothers slaughtered the villagers, dumping their bodies over the waterfall at the edge of town. People say the water ran red for weeks, giving the town its terrible name.

  Ever since that horrible anniversary, Crimson Falls is haunted by its past with a present filled with violence and danger. Every October is filled with fear...and for good reason. On October 13th, the dreaded Founders Day, all the town’s crime comes to a head. And by the 14th, fewer will be alive than before.

  Crimson Falls is a fictional town, created and shared by 8 mystery, suspense, and thriller authors. Each novella paints a picture about life in Crimson Falls and the insanity that takes place leading up to Founders Day. Do you dare to read them all?

  2019

  CHAPTER ONE

  Sunday, October 6, 2019

  “Harper? Did you leave yet?” a woman’s raspy voice called from within the two-story, decade-old Victorian house.

  “Not yet, Mama. Putting my coat on now!” a young girl of tiny stature zipped up her hot pink jacket with a fleece-lined hood. She reached for her pack of Bubbilicious gum on her nightstand, unwrapped a piece of the watermelon treat, and put the wrapper in her pocket.

  The redheaded girl with locks reaching her backside looked out the window. In the distance, a dreadful storm cloud headed her way. She hoped more than anything the storm would veer off and miss them, but it tended to rain more often than not this time of the year. Harper planned to visit her friend Lillian at her house. It was a couple of miles away, but Harper could ride her shiny new plum bike nearly anywhere in town.

  Harper’s parents, both lawyers, weren’t always so approving of their daughter’s ventures around Crimson Falls. After all, Harper had only just turned ten. But her parents worked long hours and couldn’t always drive her to activities outside of their neighborhood. After many arguments and near begging on Harper’s part, her parents agreed she could ride her bike to friends’ houses as long as the parents would be home and she was back before the streetlights turned on.

  Naturally, as the daughter of lawyers, Harper pled her case that a set time for coming home would be more prudent as the street lights came on earlier and earlier in the fall. It would severely cut into her playing time and by December, she wouldn’t have enough time to play at all.

  Her parents, though, wouldn’t concede on that point and reinforced the new rule. One strike against the girl would cause her to lose her newly acquired privilege temporarily. Harper’s parents loved her very much but also set high standards and rules for their daughter.

  Sandy Golden, with a basket of dirty clothes on her hip and a leather-bound briefcase in her other hand, strode into the kitchen, pink-faced, and her strawberry-blonde hair up in a messy bun. She was a trusts and estates lawyer in town and business boomed for her regularly. Crimson Falls residents dealt with a slew of deaths, especially in October, which not only kept the population down but led to the need for wills and estates to be settled.

  Sandy’s husband, Kyle, practiced in many different aspects of law at the same firm. Sandy and Kyle founded Golden & Golden soon after they married almost fifteen years previously. They didn’t want to work for Bud Jakobs, the oldest lawyer in town, so they started their firm. About half of Crimson Falls went to Bud and the other half when to Golden & Golden.

  “Put on some gloves, Harper. It’s chilly outside. And why are you wearing your new pink sneakers? They’re going to get all muddy playing outside!”

  Harper wrinkled her nose and rolled her eyes. “I’ll be careful, Mom. Sheesh. I’m just going to Lillian’s house.”

  Sandy carefully eyed her stubborn daughter. She was about to protest but the buzzer went off in the laundry room, and her hip ached with the basket of the past week’s clothes digging into her side.

  “All right. Well, you know the rule—”

  “Be home before the streetlights come on,” Harper chirped. “I know. I know.”

  Harper reached for the backdoor and in the last moment before she stepped outside into the frigid autumn air, she turned around and smiled at her mother. Little did she know, it would be the last time she’d ever see her again.

  Harper put on her silver holographic helmet and mounted her bike. Silver and white glittery streamers poked out from the handlebars on either side and a silver horn lay in the middle of them, too. She sped up her street and past the neighboring houses older than even her grandparents’ parents.

  Crimson Falls, a small town at least a half hour from any neighboring city, only lay home to about one thousand people. Harper didn’t mind living in a small town, but it made it damn near impossible to do anything without it getting back to her parents. She couldn’t even jaywalk without someone mentioning it to her mother. Everyone knew each other’s business and made it a point to stir the pot when necessary. And yet, they all had each other’s backs. It was a small community, but a tough-as-nails one, too. When you hurt one, you hurt them all.

  Harper pedaled her heart out despite the frosty chill in the air. She couldn’t wait to go to Lillian’s house and play with her new Barbie mansion. Her friend boasted about it at school, and now Harper’d have the chance to see if it was all it was cracked up to be.

  Harper sped down Lillian’s street with a rumbling stomach and a desire to enjoy the last day of the weekend. Harper loved school and learning, especially English, but weekends were always so much better. Not only did she see her parents more on Saturday and Sunday, but she had more time to spend with her friends, too.

  She turned into Lillian’s concrete driveway and hopped off her bicycle. Harper leaned it against the garage and sprinted into Lillian’s house. Her friend screeched at her arrival, and they jumped up and down and hugged each other jovially.

  For the next handful of hours, the girls played with Lillian’s Barbies, feasted on Twinkies and Pizza Bites, and gossiped about the girls and boys at their school. Harper’s parents didn’t allow her to consume any junk food, so she took full advantage of the perks at Lillian’s house.

  Lillian’s parents sat at the
kitchen table and poured over stacks of papers, a calculator and a pen in each hand. Lillian’s mother frowned while her father huffed and puffed. Harper and Lillian knew better than to disturb them, so they played in Lillian’s bedroom.

  “What are you going to ask for for Christmas?” Lillian questioned her best friend.

  “I don’t know,” Harper replied as she stuck her tongue out in concentration. She attempted to pull a princess dress onto her Barbie, but it didn’t quite fit.

  “Maybe you could get a Barbie Mansion just like me?” Lillian suggested.

  “Yeah, I don’t know. Maybe,” Harper replied. “I kind of want this jewelry-making kit I saw on the TV.”

  “Ooohh cool! If you get it, can I come over and make a necklace?”

  Harper finally pulled the dress onto her Barbie and pranced her around, pretending the doll was speaking instead of her.

  “Girls? Ready for dinner?” Lillian’s mother called to them.

  Harper jumped at the sound of Mrs. Chase’s voice and glanced outside. The sun danced toward the horizon as it set on Crimson Falls. The street lamps would be on soon. Harper’s heart pounded in her chest and images of losing her bike, and the ability to come to play with Lillian, sped into her consciousness.

  “I have to go!” she fretted.

  “Aw, man, really? You’re going to miss Sloppy Joe night,” Lillian countered.

  Harper threw her arms around her friend and handed her the Barbie she’d borrowed for the afternoon.

  “See you at school!” Harper raced down the stairs and out of the house before Lillian could reply.

  Outside, the dark cloud from earlier hovered over the city, completely blocking out any traces of the sun she’d witnessed only minutes ago. Leaves twirled in the streets and tore away from the branches high in the sky. Off in the distance, one street lamp flickered on, and more followed suit like a stack of dominoes.

  “No!” Harper cried. She would be late and surely disciplined for it.

  She pedaled as though her life depended on it. Harper raced through the desolate streets of Crimson Falls. On Sunday nights, most people were inside having dinner with their families. On any night in October, most people avoided venturing outside at all if they could avoid it. Harper attributed her parents’ permission to go to Lillian’s house at all to the fact they probably hadn’t realized it was October already.

  By now, sweat trickled down Harper’s petite back, and all the street lamps around her were ignited. She was late and in so, so much trouble. Still, she pedaled hard and pretended to be a Nascar car racer, destined to come in first and hold up the golden trophy above her head.

  Ahead, parallel to a playground, the sidewalk turned unpredictable and cracked. Harper knew the area well and planned to ride in the street for the next block to avoid the uneven concrete. However, before she had the chance to steer away, she hit a bump in the sidewalk and launched off her bike. She landed on her stomach, only catching herself with her bare hands. She’d left her gloves at Lillian’s, and her palms ached as blood dripped from the scrapes. Tears coursed down Harper’s face and she moaned in pain. She rolled over, onto her back, and wailed.

  “Mama! Mama!” she cried. Only, her mother couldn’t hear her; she was still a few miles away. The night took hold of the day, and the moon glowed in the sky, a pale orange tint emanating from space.

  “It’s a blood moon,” a voice said several yards away.

  Harper’s tears stopped immediately, and she sat up in search of the voice. From across the street, a tall man, as tall as the moon itself, stood in the shadows with his hands in his pockets. She knew better than to never talk to strangers, but maybe he could help her? Drive her home? Surely, he had to know who her parents were; everyone knew the Goldens.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked.

  Harper’s lip quivered, and she nodded. The man walked across the street, his gait slow and steady. He pulled something out of his pocket, but Harper couldn't quite see what it was. Until it reflected the light of the moon and she realized this man, this stranger, held a knife in his hand.

  She backed away despite her bloody palms and crawled into the dewy grass behind her. Thunder rumbled. A flash of lightning ignited the sky. Her bicycle wheel spun from the fall, the bike still on its side.

  “How old are you, little girl?” the man asked with a toothy grin.

  “Ten,” she answered quickly. “I have to go home. My mom and dad will be mad at me.”

  The knife glittered in the darkness and the man was only a few feet away now. She looked into his face, but it was hidden in the shadows of the evening.

  “Would you like me to give you a ride home?”

  Harper's hands throbbed and the scent of iron permeated the air. Her legs quivered. Harper knew she wasn’t supposed to talk to strangers.

  “I da-don’t know,” she stuttered.

  “Come on, little girl,” the man said. “I’ll take real good care of you.”

  Harper’s mouth went dry and her eyes expanded to the size of the moon overhead. Her entire body screamed at her to run away from this man. Something wasn’t right. She sat rigidly in the grass and watched as the man, with his free hand, extended it for her to take.

  Harper raised her own hand and droplets of blood fell from her palms and plopped onto the grass beside her. A few drops landed on the uneven concrete sidewalk, too. She looked down and noticed one of her pink shoes had come off. She must not have tied them as tightly as she should have. Only her left shoe remained on her foot.

  The man followed her gaze and looked down to her feet as well. He chuckled, and the noise sent shivers down Harper’s spine.

  “Don’t worry, little girl. You won’t need your shoes for the ride home.”

  The strange man slid the knife into his back pocket, freeing himself to kneel beside Harper. She looked away, her heart racing inside her chest. The man reached for the shoe still on her foot and tugged it free. Now, both of Harper’s shoes were off, and the man placed them neatly side by side in the grass. Her socks bore signs of wear and tear as they had holes in the toes and stains on the bottoms.

  “Are you ready, little girl? Ready to go home?”

  Harper nodded reluctantly as tears streamed down her cheeks. She allowed the man to hoist her up, and then he cradled her like a baby. He patted her back and forced her head to rest on his shoulder. He smelled foul and stale. Harper wrinkled her nose as fear coursed through her entire body.

  “I want my Mama,” she whined. “I want to go home!”

  “Don’t worry, little girl. I’ll take the best care of you.”

  The stranger coddled Harper and carried her down the abandoned street. Her house was in the opposite direction, though. She sobbed for her mommy and daddy, but the stranger ignored her pleas. He had other plans in mind, none of which genuinely involved taking Harper to her home.

  Panic soared through Harper’s mind. As much as she tried, she couldn’t catch her breath. She couldn’t think. She wanted to scream for help. She even opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Harper was frozen in paralyzing fear.

  Little did Harper or the man know, a second man hid in the shadows of the park, watching the entire scene unfold.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Sunday, October 6, 2019

  “All right, people. It’s layout day. You know what that means—”

  “Get your shit together or get out?” a handsome man with blonde curly hair replied.

  “Exactly!” Peter Sanders said, followed by a wicked cough which left him massaging his throat. “Sorry, folks. Just a little sore throat, nothing to worry about!”

  Excitement and electricity filled the air as the small staff of the Crimson Chronicle scurried about, checking their watches, emails, and the last-minute details from their stories of the week.

  Peter stroked his mustache, as white as snow, and sipped his less-than-average coffee from the break room. “Penny?” he called to a thin woman with hair as black as night and silkier t
han a stick of butter.

  “Yeah, boss?” She whipped around, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Her piercing green eyes met her boss’s, and he smiled.

  “You okay to work on the layout this week?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I don’t see why not. Even though I did it last week,” she grumbled.

  Peter stalked over to her, out of earshot from the others. “I’m sorry, Penny. You’re just better at it, that’s all. Last week, Jayson didn’t place the ads correctly, and the Dollar General’s ad fell off.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Penny rolled her eyes but cracked a brief smile. “Maybe someday we can afford to bring someone on to do layout full-time?”

  “Yeah, let me look into that,” Peter mocked.

  Penny, or rather, Penelope considered Peter as a second father. Actually, he was her only father figure. Many years ago, around this time, Penny’s father died in a fatal car accident when a drunk driver hit him and fled the scene. Peter and her father were friendly, and after his death, Peter took Penny under his wing.

  Peter patted her on the back and left the room to go to his office in the back of the small building. The Crimson Chronicle, located on Main Street, beside the Crimson Falls police station, was a tattered older building with a faulty electric system which often made the production of the weekly newspaper tricky. But, Penny, a veteran reporter now, knew how to handle any crisis the paper may succumb to.