Uncovering Small Town Secrets

by Tyler Anne Snell

  Foster looked down at Millie.

  “So then that’s definitely our guy,” she said, guessing at his thoughts. “The one you bloodied your knuckles on.”

  The one who might be Fallon.

  That’s what he’d been about to tell Millie before Helen had interrupted.

  The truck they’d been taken in? Fallon’s.

  Which meant one of two things and neither of them good for Millie.

  That’s why he kept quiet now.

  He wasn’t about to give her those two theories in front of Helen.

  Despite it being his job, it felt like something he should do in private. Something to talk about with just the two of them.

  Helen cleared her throat. Her hand went over her stomach in what must have been a soothing motion. She met Foster’s eye with a severe expression and tone.

  “You might not be family anymore, but I’ve grown used to disliking you. If you go up and get killed on me, then I won’t have someone to complain about anymore,” she said. “Whatever is going on, I need you to figure it out and get it settled. Without getting kidnapped again. Okay? I need this town to go back to normal.”

  Foster had thought the last week had already been strange enough, but it took another turn as Helen waited for him to confirm he would, essentially, try to stay safe.

  “I’ll try my best.”

  Helen nodded. Then she went back to her shop.

  They watched as she walked away. Millie was the first to speak. There was no humor in her words.

  “I don’t think this town has been normal since Annie McHale went missing.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The water was warm, a gentle hand against the skin of someone who needed to relax. To reflect. To heal.

  To try to feel an emotion that wasn’t so complicated that she’d pushed away the only man who had been helping her.

  Millie slid farther down in the tub, a sigh escaping as she went. Her shower cap crinkled. Water lapped against the back of her neck. The bubbles had already started to dwindle, though their scents of vanilla and lavender had long since coated her skin.

  If she closed her eyes and tried to the best of her abilities, she could almost forget about the last week. The last six months too.

  Almost.

  But that was putting too much pressure on a bubble bath.

  Millie opened her eyes and looked at the tile wall opposite her. It wasn’t intentional and it certainly wasn’t hard to do, but she imagined the house on the other side of that wall.

  She sighed again.

  Foster had taken them from the parking lot of Rosewater to her front porch, all while staying as quiet as a mouse. Millie had known he was gearing up to say something, something she probably wasn’t going to like. It was only after he’d made sure her house was empty and that the deputy at the road was alert, did he circle back to her standing on the front porch and finally said what was on his mind.

  “Helen saw and described the vehicle that took us from Rosewater. She even got a partial license plate.”

  Hope had sprung eternal. A lead!

  But then he pulled the cord on that hope with four words.

  “It was Fallon’s truck.”

  Millie had felt excitement and anguish all at once.

  It hadn’t helped that Foster had told her his thoughts on the topic.

  “The man who took us could have been Fallon or been working with him, meaning he’s not just missing but he’s involved in something and choosing not to come forward.” Then he’d softened. Sympathy had drenched his expression. Millie’s stomach had gone cold. “Or something happened to Fallon and his truck was stolen.”

  Millie hadn’t wanted to sit there and listen to reason or theories. After everything she’d been through in the last week? The last twenty-four hours? Her entire adulthood? Finding out about Fallon’s truck—his beloved truck that he’d never give up without a fight or consent—was too much for Millie.

  So she’d focused on the part that shouldn’t have mattered the most, if at all.

  “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Why didn’t you tell me when you found out?”

  Foster had done his detective thing again. Just like he had in the interrogation room. He’d gone from a man who looked at her with concern and depth to a professional who had deemed her nonessential. Or a threat. His mouth had tightened, his stance had hardened and even his voice had gone almost flat.

  “I wanted to know more before I did that.”

  Millie’s heart had been hurting and scared and she knew she’d misplaced her emotions. Still her voice had raised and the corners of her eyes had pricked with tears.

  “You wanted to figure out if I had something to do with it too, didn’t you? You wanted to see if Millie Dean was just as much trouble as her brother.”

  Foster had shaken his head. “Millie, that’s not it. I just wanted to—”

  But Millie had reached the point of no return. She’d interrupted him by raising her hand to stop whatever it was he’d been about to say to her.

  “We’re not a team. We’re not partners. I’m just your neighbor and a suspect. And I’m tired. I’ll make sure my phone is on and all the doors and windows stay shut and locked, but I’m going inside now. I’ll talk to you later.”

  The words had rushed out, but there had been power behind each syllable. Maybe it was that power that kept the man from responding past a nod of acknowledgment and a quiet “okay.”

  Then he’d gone and now, as night fell, Millie was in the bath, wondering if he was home or not.

  Before Foster had come to town, before Fallon had disappeared, Millie had lived a life of routine and normalcy. Now it felt wrong to not be with the detective, sleuthing at his side and waiting for those green eyes to land on her.

  The idea of a simple life stayed elusive as Millie refused to give thought about what Fallon’s truck did or didn’t mean. Fallon was, and always had been, a good kid. A great kid. One with heart and a strength that not even he probably realized he had.

  He wouldn’t be part of something malicious or bad.

  But what did it mean if he wasn’t involved in whatever it was going on?

  Tears started to prick up again.

  Millie ran a hand over her face, water catching in her eyes. She shook her head.

  Her brother was still alive and, until she was given proof otherwise, Millie decided she was going to stay optimistic.

  She finished her bath with new resolve and slipped into her robe with purpose when the doorbell rang.

  Fear and adrenaline went to every area of her body. The power of the bubble bath washed away. She checked her phone to make sure she hadn’t missed a call or text.

  She hadn’t.

  Millie tied her robe tight and tiptoed to the living room. She peeked out of the front window, barely moving the curtain. Flashes of Jason Talbot with a gun went through her mind, followed by Foster with a smile.

  However, the person standing on the welcome mat was neither.

  “Amanda?”

  Amanda Alvarez was still wearing her colorful patchwork clothes from earlier at the hospital. She had a paper bag in one hand and held it up and out to Millie in greeting.

  “I promised Dr. McCrushing On Me that I’d check on you and the detective, so I’m keeping my promise. With the addition of greasy burgers and fries because A, I haven’t had a chance to eat yet and B, I’m a big believer in it being good for everyone’s mental health to have some guilty pleasure food every now and then.” She shook the bag. On cue Millie’s stomach growled. Amanda laughed. “Could I come in?”

  Millie looked out to the street where her assigned deputy babysitter was still sitting. He made no move to get out of the car. Not that Millie thought the coroner was a threat, but it was still nice to know she wasn’t even a suspect.

/>   Plus Millie was hungry.

  “Yeah, sure. Come on in. Just don’t mind the mess.”

  Amanda followed her in and through to the eat-in kitchen. The other woman laughed as they walked.

  “This? If you think this is messy then you’d have a meltdown at my place,” she said. “I took this job before I found a place to live, so I’m currently staying in the apartment over the pharmacy on Main. It’s the size of a shoebox, a shoebox filled to the brim with boxes of crap I don’t need but can’t let go of.”

  She took the seat Millie offered and started to dump the bag out.

  “I didn’t realize that apartment was even livable,” Millie replied. “I work across the street from it at the grocers and haven’t seen anyone come or go in years.”

  Amanda laughed. “The parking is in the back alley and, before me, I don’t think anyone had lived there in a while. Let’s just say my first week in Kelby Creek was spent elbow deep in cleaning supplies and frustration.”

  Millie grabbed some plates and napkins and nearly sat down before she heard a crinkle.

  “And I’m still wearing my shower cap. Please excuse me while I go change.” Millie laughed at herself before going to her room and changing into something less comfortable than her robe but comfortable all the same. She had no plans to leave the house that night. Maybe not even leave the house the next day either. She hadn’t decided.

  When she padded back into the kitchen, Amanda had set both plates and was chewing on some fries.

  “Sorry, I’m starving,” she said, waving a fry in the air. “And for all of their grease and calories, fries are my weakness.”

  “No judgments here,” Millie assured her. “My weakness is pie. Like entire pies. I have a frozen one in the freezer as we speak.”

  “My kind of people.”

  Millie took the seat opposite and tore into her burger with enthusiasm she hadn’t had before. It was like her appetite had come back all at once. She was done with half of the burger before Amanda could ask the question that she’d come over to ask in the first place.

  “So other than your love for pie, how are you feeling? Any pain or weirdness? Sudden and new superpowers? The urge to eat human flesh?”

  Millie snorted. Even though the coroner was joking around, she could see the concern. Millie appreciated the brevity.

  “No superpowers unless you can count my undying optimism,” Millie joked back. Then she gave a more serious answer, losing her smile for a more thoughtful demeanor in the process. “My head still feels kind of groggy. Like the aftereffects of taking a Benadryl. But it doesn’t hurt like it did earlier. I’ve also been drinking a lot of water like I was told and taking it easy.”

  “Nothing else? No paranoia or increased anxiety or depression?”

  “Well, in the last week I’ve had someone break into my home and try to kill me, been drugged and woke up on a boat and lost hours of memory.” Millie bit into a fry and smirked to show she wasn’t taking what she said as seriously as it was. “Aside from the paranoia, anxiety and depression that goes along with that, no, nothing extra.”

  Amanda held up her own fry and tipped it to Millie.

  “Touché.”

  They ate a few more bites. Millie glanced over Amanda’s shoulder. Once again she imagined the house just beyond hers.

  And the man who might or might not be in it.

  “So, do you need to go check up on Foster next or was I the second stop?” Millie tried not to blush but probably didn’t succeed.

  She felt like a schoolgirl fishing for information on her crush.

  Amanda didn’t pick up on it, or at least didn’t take it that way. She shook her head and spoke around a bite of her burger.

  “You’re my second stop. I went to the department first to see him since it was next to my precious fries’ connection.”

  So Foster was at the department and not home.

  Millie felt a pang of anxiety at that. And something else she didn’t have time to think on.

  “Is he doing okay too? No more headache or sudden superpowers? No signs of being a zombie?”

  There she was, fishing again.

  “Nope. He answered about the same as you, actually. The whole anxiety and stress thing was ‘just a part of the job.’ Very macho with his gun on his hip and the files piled on his desk. So I told him I was on the way to get food and see you. He said he’d call ahead to the guy out front, and I told him he needed to head home soon too.”

  “Let me guess, he took the suggestion under advisement but didn’t say he actually would,” Millie guessed.

  Amanda laughed. “Actually he said he’d already done his resting at the hospital but would head home when he found a stopping point.”

  “I haven’t known Foster more than a week but that seems to be his way. He’s really dedicated to his job. Which is definitely something Kelby Creek needs after The Flood.”

  Millie dipped into the town’s past without meaning to. The Flood had just become so ingrained in residents that it was hard not to hit on the topic on occasion.

  Amanda picked up on the mood change. She didn’t brush it off or make jokes anymore.

  “You know, I thought the first person I heard say ‘The Flood’ was being dramatic, but that’s what everyone here in town calls it, isn’t it? Everything that went down?”

  Millie finished her burger with a last bite. She nodded. Amanda waited until she was done chewing to press on.

  “You were here for it? The Flood?”

  “Yeah.” Millie was also there before it had happened long enough to feel the burn, the hurt, the betrayal.

  The anger.

  “I don’t know who started the name, but it’s been the easiest way to refer to what happened,” she added. “Plus the flood is what really changed everything.”

  Amanda’s brow rose high.

  “It’s not just a metaphorical name?”

  Millie shook her head and paused in the process of getting more fries. She knew the look that crossed Amanda’s face just as she’d seen the same one in her reflection over the last six months.

  “Do you not know what happened?” she asked. “You replaced someone who was fired because of it.”

  “I only know the highlights that the news gave out. And, well, that my predecessor was fired for fudging reports, but I never got the details details. Not the up close and personal ones.”

  Amanda’s expression was searching. Since Millie had already decided she liked the woman, she relented and told the story of The Flood.

  Well, after she got out the frozen pie to let it thaw.

  Then she told the coroner to buckle up because she was jumping right on in.

  “There are two really wealthy families in Dawn County. The McHales were one of them and had lived in Kelby Creek for generations. They had family money and then they made more by having a hand in half of the town’s businesses. But, for all the stereotypes of the rich family being small-town royalty, the McHale family was actually very beloved. If you didn’t know they had a veritable mansion in the woods, you might not know they were filthy rich at all. That went doubly for their only daughter, Annie McHale.”

  Millie paused to do some math, trying to remember the exact timeline.

  “Everyone refers to the beginning of the end for a normal Kelby Creek when Annie went missing, but the truth was she was actually kidnapped,” she continued. “It’s just that no one knew for sure until a few days had passed and missing, I suppose, sounds less menacing compared to what actually happened. Annie went missing on a Sunday and by Wednesday a ransom call was made to her parents. The kidnappers wanted five hundred thousand dollars within twenty-four hours or they’d kill her.”

  Amanda made a noise. “That’s some kind of action stuff you see on a TV show.”

  Millie had to agree with that. />
  “It only gets more intense from there. See, the McHales were really close with the sheriff. He was actually the kids’ godfather. So when the call came in and a drop for the money was set up, he convinced the McHales to let him be the one who handled it. He took some undercover deputies with him and led them and Mr. McHale right into a trap.” Millie didn’t say it, but she remembered hearing the gunfire from the store that day. Like fireworks popping in rapid succession until there was nothing but an eerie silence. “In total five people were killed, some deputies and some civilians while a few more were wounded. Mr. McHale even took a bullet to the leg and nearly bled out.”

  “What about the kidnappers?”

  “They managed to stay hidden, is what everyone said at the time. But after that the kidnappers became openly angry and pulled the stunt that put the town on national news and finally brought in the FBI.”

  “I know this part,” Amanda said excitedly. “The town website got hacked.”

  Millie nodded. “A video of Annie McHale was posted on the website and stayed up for half an hour until someone could get it down. It went viral across the internet.”

  “I saw it. She was just sitting there all bloody and beaten tied to a chair while some guy spoke next to the camera. He asked for more money, didn’t he?”

  “A million dollars this time,” Millie answered. “And three days to do it in.”

  “Let me guess. After her parents saw the video, they were definitely in.”

  “Oh yeah. But they didn’t get the chance to actually do it.” Millie couldn’t help but lean in a little, as if she was conspiring with Amanda. This part of the story always felt a little unreal. “Two FBI agents came in as part of a small task force to help and, the day after the video was posted, one of the agents, Jaqueline Ortega, left a message on her partner’s phone that she was following up on a hunch. But then she went missing too.”

  “What? I never heard about that part.”

  Millie shrugged. “Jaqueline Ortega, as far as I could see, never made the news. But her partner did,” she continued. “He was out looking for her the next day, driving through some backroads, when a nasty storm hit. It created a flash flood and by the time he had decided to go back to his hotel room, he came up on a car that had wrecked out into the ditch. Being the good guy he was, he stopped to help them. Turns out, it was the mayor. Good friends with the sheriff and the McHales. He was unconscious but alive and while the FBI agent saw to him, he spotted something shiny in the floorboard. A necklace specifically designed for Annie McHale.”