Missing & Gone
Page 4
The welcome sign brought forth an unexpected flood of memories. I was ten years old the last time I’d been here, but I remembered that sign like I’d just seen it yesterday. Not only was it a signal to me and my little sister Rosalyn that we were mere minutes from Gran’s and Gramps’ house, it made me feel good. I liked the idea of being blessed.
I continued down the road, remembering happier times with my grandparents, and almost missed my turn.
“It’s the first right past the welcome sign,” my mother had reminded me numerous times, despite my assurance that my map app would get me there. “Be sure to stay on the left fork after you turn or you’ll end up at that campground.”
She’d said ‘that campground’ as though it was inhabited by a colony of lepers.
A quick glance as I passed showed that approximately half of the campsites were full. Whispering Pines’ tourist season started in six days with Memorial Day weekend. Every spot would be full then. Every hotel room and rental cottage booked. My plan was to do what I could with the house and head back to Madison early Friday morning before the highways clogged with holiday traffic.
As the landscape changed from dense forest to a clearing, the edge of the lake house came into view. I stomped on the brakes and jerked to a stop, not quite ready to see it yet. After a minute of debating with myself about whether I’d be able to do this, I let the car creep forward. Most things from a person’s childhood look smaller when seen as an adult, but in the sixteen years since I’d last been here, the house seemed to have grown. The seven-bedroom, nine-bathroom home had an enormous footprint, taking up almost half an acre. The steel-gray cedar siding and white trim were severely weather beaten. Winters in the Northwoods could be brutal, and the house looked like it had struggled to survive the last few.
“She hasn’t done a thing to that house in years,” Dad had warned in his email from . . . whichever Middle Eastern country he was currently searching for buried civilizations in. “We’re not going to get anything for it. Empty it and do the bare minimum to get it on the market. The sooner we get rid of it, the better.”
But as I stared at the house I hadn’t seen in sixteen years, a sense of nostalgia flooded me. This was my grandparents’ home. Despite my parents’ refusal to remember, I had warm-n-fuzzy memories of being here.
“Don’t worry old girl,” I told the house, dismissing my father’s orders. “Nothing a few screws and a fresh coat of paint won’t fix. I’ll take care of you.”
A sudden wind blew in off the lake, making the trees sway as though waving or bowing. Or nodding with approval?
Meeka barked from her backseat prison, snapping me fully into the present.
“Okay, okay.”
I pulled forward and parked in front of the garage. As soon as the door on Meeka’s crate was unlatched, she burst free from the SUV like a flare from a gun. She ran once around the car then raced in big circles around the perimeter of the near quarter acre of lawn, barking at invisible pursuers and burning off the energy built up from the five-hour drive.
As I watched her, laughing at her antics, another gentle breeze blew through. The air smelled earthy, like pine trees with a hint of fish, and the sun sparkled off the rippling water. I closed my eyes and faced the slowly setting sun, letting the rays soak in and warm me. An unexpected sense of serenity filled me and for the first time in months, I felt my shoulders relax and drop from their permanently hunched position.
I hadn’t wanted to be the one to pack up the house, certain it would be too hard to be around Gran’s things. Rosalyn had finals this week at UW Madison, and her summer job started next week. Mom was always too busy with the spa to take any time off. Dad was, well, he was out of the country like always. Since I’d been unemployed for the last six months, Mom and Rosalyn decided this task was mine. Now that I was here, with the fresh air and sun on my face, there was literally no place else in the world I’d rather be.
Next to the boathouse on my left, was the pier. Didn’t it used to be much longer? Rosalyn and I used to run the length of it and, shrieking, jump into the lake. I had a sudden need to dangle my feet in the water. I’d taken three steps down the pathway of fieldstone pavers set into the grass when Meeka began to bark. Not her playful hey, a squirrel bark, but her red-alert hey, something’s wrong get over here quick bark.
“What is it?” I called, as though expecting the little terrier to answer, and then sighed. I hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in weeks and exhaustion had finally caught up to me, making me cranky. Now that I had started to relax, that’s all I wanted to do.
Still, I turned toward the far right edge of the property. No, that wasn’t accurate. The property spread out over ten acres. About two of those acres were taken up with house and lawn. The remaining eight or so were wooded with huge pines and a sprinkling of deciduous trees, currently covered with the bright green leaves that signaled the return of spring. Rebirth and renewal. That’s where Meeka was having her fit, over by where the lawn met the tree line.
Concerned now, I jogged across the grass . . . which was in desperate need of fertilizing and weed control. I mentally added gardening to the list of chores that I suspected would be as long as my arm in a day or two.
As I got close to Meeka, she sat but still barked.
“This better be important.”
Then I saw what she’d found. Definitely important. Five feet away from my dog lay a body.
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading Missing & Gone, the prequel short story to my Whispering Pines mystery series, and I hope the teaser chapter of Family Secrets has intrigued you. I’m having the best time writing these stories and can’t wait for you to read them all!
To connect with me, see the links below.
Peace and love,
Shawn
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Books by Shawn McGuire
WHISPERING PINES Series:
Missing & Gone, prequel short story
Family Secrets, book 1
Gemi Kittredge mystery novellas
One of Her Own
Out of Her League
Over Her Head
THE WISH MAKERS Series:
Sticks and Stones, book 1
Break My Bones, book 2
Never Hurt Me, book 3
Had a Great Fall, book 4
Back Together Again, book 5
Short Stories
The Door
Escaping the Veil in Off Beat: Nine Spins on Song
Suspense and fantasy author Shawn McGuire started writing after seeing the first Star Wars movie (that's episode IV) as a kid. She couldn't wait for the next installment to come out so wrote her own. Sadly, those notebooks are long lost, but her desire to tell a tale is as strong now as it was then. She grew up in the beautiful Mississippi River town of Winona, Minnesota, called the Milwaukee area of Wisconsin (Go Pack Go!) home for many years, and now lives in Colorado where she loves to read, craft, cook and bake, and spend time in the spectacular Rocky Mountains.
Copyright © 2017 Shawn McGuire
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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For information visit:
www.Shawn-McGuire.com