THE GIRL
IN WHITE
A Madison Meyer Mystery
Book 1
SHANNON REBER
Copyright © 2017 by Shannon Reber
First Edition
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.
Published by Magic Fire Publishing
This book is a work of fiction. Incidents, names, characters, and places are products of the author's imagination and used fictitiously. Resemblances to actual locales or events or persons living or dead, is coincidental.
Printed in the United States of America
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Table of Contents
PREFACE 4
ONE 6
11
TWO 12
THREE 13
FOUR 25
FIVE 26
SIX 38
SEVEN 45
EIGHT 54
NINE 62
TEN 64
ELEVEN 76
TWELVE 81
THIRTEEN 86
FOURTEEN 95
FIFTEEN 102
SIXTEEN 112
SEVENTEEN 121
EIGHTEEN 132
NINETEEN 142
TWENTY 149
TWENTY-ONE 156
TWENTY-TWO 166
TWENTY-THREE 167
TWENTY-FOUR 176
TWENTY-FIVE 186
TWENTY-SIX 192
EPILOGUE 196
Author’s Note 199
About the Author 203
PREFACE
All my life, things have made sense to me. Or that used to be the case. Now, nothing makes sense. The supernatural world has taken a foothold in our world and so few people know about it.
That doesn’t make sense in the least. Now that I know about all the things which go bump in the night, it’s hard to believe it took me so long to figure it out. The monsters under little kids’ beds aren’t just in their heads. Monsters are real, both the human and paranormal sorts.
My job has become the kind where, if people hear the truth of what I do, they roll their eyes and snicker under their breaths. They don’t believe. Not believing doesn’t save them, though.
No, I’m not trying to scare you. The reason I’m telling you this story is because you need to know. Something is happening.
In the last ten years, there have been more attacks on humans by paranormal creatures than has ever been written about in myths. We didn’t know why that was for a long time. Right now, we’re only in damage control. All we can do is try to save a few people who are willing to admit the truth.
And the truth is that myths and legends are there to warn us about what’s coming. Open your eyes and you might see. Accept the truth.
My name is Madison Meyer. This story is the beginning. It is the chronicles of my life as a paranormal investigator. It’s a long and winding road full of nightmares but it’s not all darkness and gore.
You don’t have to be afraid. It’s why I’m telling you this. I want you to know that we’re out there. Yes, we’re learning on the job and we will fail but we will win sometimes as well.
Come to us when no one believes you. We believe and we might be able to help.
“To be haunted is to glimpse a truth that might best be hidden.”
James Herbert
ONE
They say death is just another beginning. I always thought that was a stupid saying. Now that I’ve seen both death and the undead, it’s hard to disbelieve much at all.
Doubt used to be my go-to answer. Now, I have to wonder. If death isn’t the end, what was left had a way of trying to show the truth of its emotions. And it seemed to be in a mood.
It was like a vengeful child, bent on picking at my most vicious wounds merely to make me bleed. The vicious child had set its teeth into me that day. I should have been used to such things. Sometimes, for short stretches, I felt as though my life was like everybody else’s.
I rolled my eyes at that thought. I knew perfectly well that no one’s life was what we like to think of as normal because no one even knew what normal truly was. The world was made up of billions of unique creatures, no one exactly like another. It was what gave the world the quality I appreciated, nothing quite as expected.
That day though, the abnormality of everything had reached new heights. I wasn’t usually a girl who would be thought of as fanciful. My analytical mind could rationalize anything and everything. That changed the second I saw her.
It was a cool day for late summer. Despite that, the bookstore’s air conditioning remained on. Because of the chill, I wore a long sleeved shirt under my uniform shirt. I was still frigid.
I had been stationed up front that day and was bored out of my mind. I loved some parts of my job. To be behind the register was like slow torture. Repetitious movements, soul-sucking tedium, forced friendliness . . . it was the worst part of my job.
Living in a city that housed several universities meant that the bookstore was busy quite often. The fact it had a coffee shop made the place even more popular. People would come in to study or hang out after class. That day was especially busy because the fall semester was about to begin.
I scanned what felt like the thousandth book that day and spoke the same words to the customers. Maybe I should shake it up a little and tell them they could get better prices from an online store. I couldn’t say that if I wanted to keep my job, so the same words had to be spoken over and over.
“Did you find everything you needed?” I’d ask with a forced smile. “Thanks for coming. Have a nice day.”
Toward the end of the day, my customer shuddered a little when I handed her the receipt. “It IS cold in here, isn’t it?” she asked rhetorically, rubbing her hands together as her breath puffed out.
I gave as polite a response as possible and moved on to the next customer. It truly had gotten icy, as cold as death. That was when I saw her.
Goosebumps rose on my arms. My blood felt like it cooled to a point I couldn’t possibly survive. My eyes went so wide, I must have looked deranged.
She hadn’t changed. Emma was one of those girls that everybody turned to look at, both beautiful and striking. Her dark blonde hair was pulled back from her face in a way that showed her expression . . . one she’d never worn when I’d known her. Anguish. Her Caribbean blue eyes were fixed on me.
I dropped the book in my hand and took an involuntary step away. My breath came out in quick gasps. No. It couldn’t be. It was not possible.
Emma’s mouth opened, then closed. No sound came out. The anguish on her face intensified. She raised her hand, her little finger held out between us like when we were kids.
Without conscious thought, my hand rose as well. My little finger extended to hook around hers like we’d done thousands of times. It had been our peace offering in the past, our way of apologizing without the words being spoken between us.
Images formed in my mind. My own anguish became as debilitating as it had been almost two years before. I wanted to weep for the thousandth time.
Emma’s lips formed words, yet I couldn’t hear or make anything out at all. I wanted to ask her why she’d done it, to demand an explanation.
Emma disappeared like a figment of my imagination. I was left behind the register at the bookstore, my hand extended to empty air and tears in my eyes. That was when the silence all around me came clear in my mind.
I glanced over to find several sets of eyes fixed on me, one girl with
her phone pointed at me like she’d recorded my little episode. That was all it was. An episode. A hallucination. Wishful thinking.
Emma couldn’t have been there. She was dead. She had died at the age of sixteen, leaving me to find my way through the world that felt so depressing without my best friend.
That was all. Emma hadn’t been there. It was nothing more than wishful thinking on my part. I had wanted to speak with her since it had happened, so my mind had conjured an image of her.
I took in a slow breath, counted to three and let it out. I was a rational girl. I did not believe in ghosts. I had work to do.
I turned to the register and picked up the book that had fallen to the counter in front of me. I cleared my throat and told the woman her total without making eye contact. I was not brave enough to see the look she’d have on her face.
“Thanks for coming. Have a nice day,” I said in a hoarse tone, my hands shaky with a mix of horror and excitement.
Another few minutes passed before my boss walked over and leaned his hip on the counter next to me. “Get out of here, Madison. You’ve been off for ten minutes and I am NOT paying you overtime because you’re not watching the clock.” Without waiting for me to respond, he motioned me away. “I’d appreciate it if you took your meds before you came to work next time too, Madison. We don’t need the bad publicity of people thinking we have a crazy girl on staff,” Jayden said in his usual cold tone.
I didn’t speak. I was used to his dislike of me, so it didn’t even affect me anymore. It felt strangely nice, for the fact it was typical.
It only took me a couple of minutes to sign out, gather my things, and get into my car. In that time, a plan formed. Emma was dead, yes. She had shown herself to me in the middle of the crowded bookstore. She had tried to speak to me. Maybe I was crazy but there had to be a way to find out if some part of her lingered in the living-world.
A few months before, I would have scoffed at that idea. After all the strange things that had happened though, it was clear I had to change my perception of reality.
The drive out into the country was one I loved. Pittsburgh was a beautiful place. The country outside the city was lush from the damp summer, everything green and aromatic.
The roads wound and weaved through the trees much like the thoughts that ran through my mind. I pulled off the road into a little break in the trees. It was the place where Emma and I had hidden our bikes as kids.
My heart began to pound as I looked around. Emma and I had spent so many hours out in the woods on her family’s property, exploring the streams, and making trouble. We’d been good at both pursuits, yet Emma possessed the charisma to get us out of some of it. She had been masterful at using her amazing eyes to coerce people into things, even as a little girl.
I had always been jealous, both of Emma’s looks and her confidence. My brown hair and eyes seemed so boring in comparison to my friend. When she tanned, I freckled. When she charmed, I argued. Without her, my life had become drab.
The path we so often followed out into the woods was overgrown like no one had been there in a long time. They probably hadn’t. I couldn’t see Emma’s mom, dad, or brother trekking out into the wilderness to visit a place they hadn’t known we’d gone. We would have been in big trouble if they had known. It was far too secluded a place for us to have come alone as little girls.
Leaves crunched under my feet as water gushed along the stream and the breeze blew the scents of nature to me. It reminded me of so many memories of the sweetest times of my life.
As I got to the place we had called our own, my heart fluttered. Someone was there.
I stopped, startled when he turned to look at me. Caribbean blue eyes. Dark blond hair. Ian looked so much like Emma, though without the same striking quality.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, disconcerted by his presence.
Ian gave me a hard look, his mouth turned down in the frown he most often wore when he’d seen me or his sister. “You’re the one trespassing, Maddie,” he said, yet the tone of his voice was far calmer than he had ever been with me before.
I didn’t answer his accusation about trespassing, my eyes fixed on the water that ran over the stones. “It was our favorite place. This was where we went every time your mom tried to make you watch us,” I said, recalling those days perfectly.
He made a small sound that couldn’t quite qualify as a laugh, though was at least a little amused. “Yeah, Maddie. I know. I always knew where you two were. Mom would have been furious if I’d lost track of Emma.” His voice broke on his sister’s name.
He cleared his throat and leaned down to pick up a stone, pulling his arm back to let it fly. The stone skipped several times before it settled into the stream. Gone. Just like Emma.
I stared at him, startled to hear that he’d known about our secret spot. Then again, it shouldn’t have surprised me. Ian was one of those guys who did what he was told to do without question or hesitation. It was something that had irritated Emma to no end. They had never been close although each would have done anything for the other if push came to shove.
Sometimes, the past and its vengefulness made me want to scream. “Why did she do it, Ian? It makes no sense. I knew her better than anybody.” I pleaded, wanting that answer so much it was like acid eating away at my insides.
He kept his eyes fixed on the stream, his posture so straight he looked like a soldier standing at attention. “Maybe none of us really knew her,” he said in a quiet voice coated in grief and suppressed anger.
I shook my head, unwilling to think about that. I had known Emma. We’d been best friends since we were three. Even after my mom and I had moved away, Emma and I still stayed in close contact. We’d texted every day and her mom had even come to pick me up to spend weekends with them. I knew her. That was all there was to it.
Ian skipped another rock out over the water, his eyes sad. “She’s dead, Maddie. Why does it matter how it happened. She’s not coming back,” he said in a cold voice as he turned to walk his way through the woods.
I stood and stared out at the place we had thought was so magical when we were little. Something inside me screamed out a denial. Ian was wrong. Emma wasn’t gone entirely. Some part of her remained. All I had to do was find a way to communicate with her.
TWO
Emma Gregory stood and stared at her friend. Maddie had come. She had found the place. Thank God.
She opened her mouth to speak, to tell her friend what had happened. It wouldn’t come. Just like in the bookstore, she wasn’t able to form words or even recall what she wanted to say.
All she knew was rage. She had to show them the truth. They would know their mistake in believing she had killed herself. They would pay for all the ways they had failed her.
And the wind turned cold. The world went white. Vengeance would be hers.
THREE
I’d heard that time had a way of healing wounds. I’d never found that to be true in myself. Most of the time, wounds just festered.
It made me sad to watch the people around me preparing for classes to begin, to recall my mother’s declaration that it made me a failure not to attend college. She’d gone on to say no one would take care of me, that I wasn’t pretty enough to expect them to.
That was the day Mom had kicked me out of the house. I hadn’t gone to live with my dad. Instead, I had moved back to the city I’d grown up in. It wasn’t easy. I had been alone for two months and nothing had blown up in my face yet.
The house I lived in was a boarding house kind of place where college students stayed. It was a big, five bedroomed Victorian and the landlady rented out three of the rooms. It gave a feeling of home and my roommates made me feel a little less alone. A little.
On Friday nights, they weren’t the type to sit at home and read blogs or listen to podcasts, though.
“Come on Madison,” one of them said and walked into my room with her hand extended toward me. “You are eighteen years old, gorg
eous, single, and living in the same house as me. You are NOT going to sit at home on a Friday night. There’s a party at Duquesne tonight and you’re coming with us,” she said and walked to my closet.
I rolled my eyes at her, though didn’t look up. “I don’t turn eighteen for another week, Imogen and I choose to be single,” I declared, even though it was a lie. Guys were a complication I avoided. They didn’t seem interested anyway, and I didn’t go out of my way to draw their attention.
Imogen snorted as she began to paw through my dresser drawers. “SERENA! Madison is coming to the party and I need your help with her!” she bellowed loud enough to wake the dead.
I flopped on my bed and groaned. When Imogen and Serena teamed up on me, there was no way I’d get out of going out with them. Together, they were an unstoppable force.
Serena sauntered into my room, her hair having been newly bleached in a way that made her mocha skin all the more striking. She wore a flowy, short dress, red leggings, and the most amazing necklace I’d ever seen. It was five silver cords, each with a different pendant at the end in varying lengths. It was mesmerizing.
I glanced over at Imogen and smiled. Her hair was fluorescent green. It should have looked ridiculous, though on her was perfect. She wore her usual graphic t-shirt and cuff bracelets, though had dressed the outfit up slightly with a short skirt and a gorgeous pair of four-inch heeled boots.
Serena walked over and pulled me to my feet, her eyes scanning every inch of me. “Okay-ay-ay-ay,” she said, elongating the word until it had several syllables. “You’ve got a wild girl hidden in there somewhere, I’m positive. I say we go with classy, with a splash of sexy.” She shoved me toward the bathroom. “Go shave your legs and me and Imogen will have you all figured out by the time you get back here.”
I shook my head. “You guys will be bored having me around. My idea of fun is hacking into a place I’m not supposed to be able to hack, not going to parties and socializing. I suck at socializing.”
The Girl In White Page 1
