The Father's Tale (A Disappearance Mystery Thriller Book 6)

by Laura Greene

  LAURA GREENE

  A DISAPPEARANCE

  Mystery Thriller

  THE FATHER’S TALE

  Copyright © 2021 Laura Greene – All rights Reserved

  All rights reserved. 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 the copyright owner.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Click here to get my upcoming books for FREE! Click the link below and join my newsletter and start accessing exclusive content and FREE books only sent to my newsletter!

  Click here to join my Newsletter and you won’t miss any of my new releases.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Epilogue

  Also by Laura Greene

  {free bonus gift}

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  My father’s dead, and Will Deacon did it, Melody Winter thinks as she stares into the dark seas surrounding her and the three sailors on the boat with her.

  Captain Neil announced they would leave at 0400 hours “on the dot” and at 0400 hours, their boat was indeed sailing out of the shores of the deserted island headed back to Talon’s Point.

  She shudders; the reality of returning to where it all started, kicking in. Then she picks up a blanket next to her and wraps it around her shoulders. It’s thickness mimics that of a moving blanket with heavy duty polyester mesh and cotton material. Immediately, it forms a barrier against the Atlantic wind that was cutting through her sweater and onto her defenseless arms. Am I ready, she wonders, can I take him on?

  Silently, she ponders if her timing to confront Will about her father’s murder is right or if she should have stewed over it a while longer. But it’s too late now. She is on the boat and in a few hours, when they touch ground again, she will have no time to waste. I cannot ruminate now, I must come up with a plan.

  A plan… It’s what got her into this mess in the first place. She came up with a grand plan to find her father on the island she just departed, only to find it was a setup and her only findings were final clues – notes to be exact, that he left in a cottage right before he was taken to his demise.

  The engine fires at full throttle, now that the boat is away from the shore – Earl, the more stout sailor is maintaining the engine below deck. Up on the deck, the jolly captain shouts some unclear Scottish commands, and they take off at full speed ahead.

  She has been in Scotland for over a month now and still academic whiplash has the better of her. She is in yet another experience in which her university theories did not prepare her for the practicum of life, but Melody presses on.

  Imagining powerful blades underneath them, splicing through the water with pronounced vigor and sending chilling splashes of salt water into the air like merciless droplets, Melody is resolute. Her time to face Will is now, and she will not recant.

  Equally determined to reach its destination with haste, the boat pierces through the Atlantic, its oars like darting eyes set on their prize. The blistering winds are no match for its stealth.

  They are now a mere half hour from the shore, and Melody braces herself. She is about to resurface on an island where she disappeared from just days prior, to townspeople she did not bid farewell.

  She hears a cough. It’s as weak and labored as the young man who gave it. Young sailor, Josh, rests on the ground next to his temporary nurse, Melody, under a pile of blankets. His leg is elevated above his chest, and he groans with pain as he breathes.

  “We’re almost there, Josh. Just hang tight, the doctor will look at your leg soon,” she reassures him. Melody is grateful to him. If it wasn’t for his hunting accident, she would have still been stuck on the island, wondering how she can convince Neil to take her back to Talon’s Point. But Josh’s need for immediate medical attention was just the saving grace she was looking for.

  Josh responds with a groan.

  “Try not to be such a baby, okay?” Melody jokes, “The pain is not that bad, just a pinch.”

  “Aye,” Josh lets out a breathy chuckle, “that’s what ye said yesterday. Right after ye shoved a sock ball into me mouth and stuck a needle in me leg.” He pauses to scoff, “Just a pinch my…”

  “Hey, watch it.” She intercepts his comment just in time.

  “I’m sorry Miss Winter. Sailor habit,” he apologizes.

  Just then, Earl pops his head up from under the deck as Neil shouts some commands. “Aye, preparing to dock the noo.” He says, wiping his brow. Since Josh is injured, Earl is doing the job of two sailors today. Then he promptly disappears under the deck once more.

  Melody glances up at the jolly captain sailing away. “I don’t get this man sometimes.”

  “Who, Neil? He’s no’ so bad. He saves people.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Josh adjusts his head on the blanket being used as a pillow, “I mean that’s what he did for me. When I was a teen, I was no good. I ran away from home and was jus living on them streets. Didn’t nobody ken who I was or care to know, that is except for Neil. He took me in like his own bairn, taught me the way of the sea and straightened me oot. Since I became a sailor, I havnae looked back since.”

  Melody sits back, listening to Josh, realizing she prejudged Neil before really getting to know him.

  “That’s what he was trying tae do fae ye when Mr. Max Deacon called him and asked him tae keep ye safe. Sailing is his hobby, saving people is really his craft.”

  “So, when he took in Mr. Sanders…” Melody considers, remembering how her father was assigned to him also.

  “Yes, we was protecting him too. Unfortunately, he was taken.” Josh lowers his voice and with sadness in his voice he adds, “It haunts him every day that he could not save him.” Pointing with his head to where Neil is standing, he says, “Do ye see that wrinkle around his brow? That wasnae there before Mr. Sanders.”

  Melody looks up and she makes eye contact with Neil, a newfound respect for him glimmering on her face.

  “We’re about tae dock!” Neil shouts to Melody and Josh. “When we get there, Melody you go with Earl, he’ll keep ye safe, While I take ma son in tae the doctor.”

  Melody nods her head to show understanding, but she has other plans.

  When the boat docks, Earl hurries to complete his duties below deck. Neil gathers his things and helps Josh off the boat. “Earl, ye make sure Miss Winter makes it tae her plane ye hear?”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Turning to Melody, Neil says, “Miss Winter, thank ye for saving my boy. I can never fully return the favour, but just promise me you’ll be safe?”

  Melody pats Neil on his shoulder, “I promise.” She is careful to not say she’ll stay out of trouble because trouble is exactly what she came for. Shortly after Neil and Josh leave, Earl resurfaces on the deck with a nice, white button up shirt, blue jeans and brown boots. Apart from the beanie on his head, he looks more like a local resident than a sailor.

  “O’right, hen. Let’s get on with it.”

  Even after Earl offers to help, Melody picks up her bag and insists on carrying it. They’re going to the airport which is not far from the Ho
wling Dog Inn. As soon as they reach the convenience store, she requests they stop so she can go to the bathroom.

  “We just left the boat and already ye need the loo? Okay, Miss. I’ll be right here.” Earl says reluctantly. Leaning against one of the stands inside the store, he waits for Melody to return.

  Only, Melody does not return. Instead, she slips out of the back of the store, darts along the back wall to her friend, Emma’s store. There she sends Emma to distract Earl long enough for her to get back on the cobblestone path and into the Howling Dog Inn. Emma does as she is asked, and by the time Earl, in his lovely town clothes, realizes he has been tricked, Melody is long gone. And to add insult to injury, Emma tells him Melody went in the opposite direction towards the post office.

  At first, Melody sits watching at the window to make sure she made a clean escape from Earl. It is Morrison who finds her peeking out of the window and startles her with, “There ye are, hen.” Melody jumps not suspecting such a loud welcome. “Where have ye been? I’ve been worried sick about ye, wondering if the Deacons done ye in?”

  “Nearly enough.” Melody mumbles under her breath.

  “Come. Ye can tell me over a wee brekkie.” Morrison leads the way to the kitchen and Melody and her suitcase follow behind him.

  “What are we having?”

  “Oh…just a little eggs and soldiers.”

  “Eggs and soldiers? What’s that?”

  He chuckles. “It’s delicious; thin sliced toast, dipped in soft-boiled eggs. Hmm.” He salivates as he plates their food. “Here, sit doon and tell me all aboot it.”

  “Right. Where to begin.” Melody knows she can’t reveal everything to Morrison just yet. It’s backfired enough times for her as it is, she’s not going to make the same mistake now. Moments like this rile up frustration in Melody. She wants to trust people around her and give them the benefit of the doubt, but she is the one who ends up the loser. That’s the thing about human nature: often so trusting, yet so untrustworthy.

  “Where have ye been? Ye had me worried sick, thinking someone came and chored ye.” The worry is apparent on her friend’s aging face, each line on his withering visage bearing its own tale of burdens over the years. He has a big heart and it’s no surprise to Melody that Morrison was concerned for her well-being. But she couldn’t tell him when she left – she couldn’t tell anyone, it was too risky. They’ve grown so close and Melody did not want to trouble him, but she can see his heart was pained by her departure. “I’m sorry Melody, I checked your room. I didnae ken if ye were deed or no’,” he says with a hint of guilt and morbidity.

  Now, she chuckles. “Don’t worry, Morrison. As you can see, I was not dead. I went camping,” she says with an inflection in her voice. That’s another thing Melody dislikes – lying. Except, here on Deacon Island, she is doing that a lot, lately. The cheeks of an embarrassed Melody warm up to a rosy glow, her blonde hair highlighting the stark difference in tone. Feeling her cheeks flush red, she dodges eye contact with Morrison and digs into her eggs and soldiers.

  With one suspicious look, Morrison leans forward to inquire the truth of his friend, then he leans back and decides against it. There is obvious silence in the room as they both eat their breakfast.

  Melody’s lie was not thought through. She has a suitcase, not a backpack; she is wearing nice clothes, not camping gear; and if Morrison checked her room, as he says, then he knows all her clothes were packed.

  Many years managing the bar have taught Morrison when to press a matter and wisdom is telling him the less he knows the better. So, they sit and enjoy their eggs and soldiers, dipping into the soft yolk.

  Finally, he says, “I’m just glad to have you back safely.”

  “I missed you too, Morrison, and especially your cooking.” They laugh, for a moment, life seems right. But Melody did not come back to socialize. With urgency in her voice, she says, “I’m eager to get back to work and attend to my teaching duties with Rebecca. Do you think you could take me?”

  “Sure, after you get settled upstairs just ring me and I’ll be ready.”

  She finishes her breakfast and rushes upstairs to look more presentable. Apart from seeing Emma and Morrison, there was one other person Melody missed – Rebecca. Already, she can see Rebecca’s bouncy, strawberry blonde curls as she prances around the room with her doll. This little 8-year-old has successfully stolen Melody’s heart and taught her how resilient the innocent must be to withstand life’s hardships.

  Before leaving, Melody had made a promise to Rebecca to not leave without letting her know and she did, but now, she has a chance to right the wrong. How she’s longing to see her… and protect her.

  Chapter 2

  It is Friday and the day is calm and clear. The sky shows no forbearance of danger, but Melody’s heart is heavy with longing to confront Will Deacon. She wants answers that only he can provide.

  While she came to the island to find her father, this journey has become more for her than it is for him. This shift, she can best explain as seeking closure. The man who toyed with her heart knowing full well that he killed my father needs to explain himself, she thinks.

  Moments after Morrison drops her off, she walks through the doorway of Deacon mansion, into the hallway. She is looking forward to Rebecca running to jump in her arms and give her a hug, instead, it is Max Deacon who stands at the entrance.

  Max looks shocked to see her.

  He was on his way to the living room to get a head start on his drinking when he halted next to the step as though he had just seen a ghost. His dark gray slacks with a black button-up shirt and spiky side-swept hair accent his high cheekbones which would normally have a healthy tone, but the color seems to have drained from his face right now.

  Instantly, he grabs her arm and pulls her away from the hallway, into the kitchen. She can see his broad shoulders and definitions in his arms bulging out of his shirt as they rush into the kitchen. Many women have fallen for his charming, good looks, but not Melody. She has no interest in Max.

  They zoom past the art relics that Melody often stops to admire, only this time the details are hazy at best as she hurries past. He releases her arm when they reach the kitchen; it is empty, perfect for a quiet conversation. They fit snugly in one corner of the kitchen away from prying eyes and bodies casually passing by.

  Since Deacon house was built over a century ago, it has hollow hallways that send any conversation near the stairwell echoing fast into the bedrooms and study. Its sturdy, white-washed stone pillars extend from the roof, down several floors and a lavish spiral staircase, curls up to the bedrooms, study and Melody’s favorite: the Great Reading room.

  Max leans in towards her, not in an alluring way like he is making a pass at her, no, he already tried that and Melody remembers it didn’t end well for him; he hovers, almost in a commanding, investigative manner. It makes Melody uncomfortable, and she takes a step back.

  “What are you doing here?” Strangely, his tone is more concerned than interrogative. There is warmth in his eyes and a gentle tenderness to his voice that nearly confuses Melody. Before she has a chance to respond, he looks over his shoulder and adds with urgency in his voice now, “You are in great danger, that’s why I arranged for you to be taken to the island.”

  He leans in again, but this time it is too much for Melody, who can practically see the hairs in his nose and feel his breath. She pushes him away firmly, like she is resisting his advances and he realizes he is too close for comfort. “Thank you, Max.” He still seems flustered to see her, so she says, “Really, I’m grateful for your concern and going to all that trouble to keep me safe.”

  While Melody can appreciate a gentleman with a healthy dose of protector in him, like…Will, she doesn’t want to admit it after all that has happened, but he is the best example she has of that perfect combination. She learned a long time ago to look out for herself and defend herself at an early age. Growing up without your father around can teach you a lot about s
urvival, she admits. This is why she doesn’t back down from a fight, and why she is going to see Will.

  “Look, you have to understand that I can’t protect you while you are here.” He looks over his shoulder again as if the walls are listening. His shoulders are hunched over, and he is now pleading with her, for her life’s sake. “The local police officer is in my brother’s pocket, so are some of the villagers. Melody, nowhere is safe.”

  Now it’s her turn to lay her hands on him, to calm him down, “I get it, Max.” She begins. “I understand your worry, but I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

  Max starts to protest again, and she interjects.

  “I’ll be fine. Will is not going to get the satisfaction of thinking he has won. I promise I’ll be careful, but he is not going to scare me away that easily.”

  She lets go of his arms and he resolves to pacing around the kitchen, on the other side of the island. Antsy and struggling to get a hold on his nerves, he grabs a napkin on the island and wipes his brow.