by Wendy Webb
PRAISE FOR WENDY WEBB
The End of Temperance Dare
“[In] this solid supernatural thriller . . . Webb succeeds in escalating suspense while keeping her story grounded, but goes full-on Exorcist for the finale.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Tantalizing . . . [The End of Temperance Dare] could well be played on a Clue game board, with macabre crimes, inexplicable disappearances, and enough eerie suspense to drive one mad.”
—Minneapolis Star Tribune
“There’s an irresistible pull to a haunted-house story told well, and The End of Temperance Dare is told very well indeed . . . The story takes place on the shores of Lake Superior, with very of-the-moment characters, while drawing potent atmosphere from the richly drawn location. As the plot tightens, the strange loveliness of the manor on the lake takes hold.”
—The Big Thrill
“There were more than enough creepy moments, mysteries to solve, and even some romance thrown in . . . This book was perfect.”
—San Francisco Book Review
“Wendy Webb is a pro at providing all the trappings of a good Gothic mystery . . . a fun read.”
—Criminal Element
“The story creates an eerie feeling of impending danger, and keeps you reading with the lights on. If you enjoy tales of suspense and horror, you will find this a clever work. Webb takes you into the dark places and holds you spellbound with terror.”
—seattlepi
The Vanishing
“Webb’s [The Vanishing, 2014] fourth novel is a high-energy ride peppered with just the right amount of romance seeking, coffee drinking, and wine sipping.”
—Booklist
“Webb once again mines the secrets of an old mansion for an effective contemporary supernatural thriller.”
—Publishers Weekly
“A brisk thriller tinged with gothic elements . . . Careening through séances and ghostly encounters leaves the reader breathless.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Webb expertly builds suspense and offers a thought-provoking tease in the final pages.”
—Booklist
“[The] opening line of Wendy Webb’s contemporary Gothic thriller, The Vanishing, pays homage to du Maurier’s classic [Rebecca]. But Webb infuses her narrator, Julia Bishop, with modern sensibilities, and manipulates the genre’s melodrama skillfully.”
—Minneapolis Star Tribune
“A deliciously complex blend of psychological suspense and ghost story, The Vanishing is pitch perfect on every note, from its mansion setting in the pine-scented northern wilderness to the secrets and specters lurking around every corner.”
—Erin Hart, author of The Book of Killowen
“The haunting twists and turns of The Vanishing left me as breathless as the beautiful setting of Havenwood itself. Reminiscent of the classics The Haunting of Hill House and Rebecca, this novel grabbed me on the first page and didn’t let go. A compelling, frightening, deeply satisfying tale that is as rich in setting as it is in storytelling.”
—Suzanne Palmieri, author of The Witch of Little Italy
The Fate of Mercy Alban
BOOK OF THE MONTH CLUB, INDIE NEXT PICK, FIVE WEEKS ON THE HEARTLAND INDIE BESTSELLER LIST
“Webb has cooked up another confection filled with family secrets coming to light in the Midwest . . . Magic and mystery intertwine in Webb’s engaging Midwestern gothic.”
—Kristine Huntley, Booklist
“If Stephen King and Sarah Waters had a love child, it would be Wendy Webb.”
—MJ Rose, New York Times bestselling author
“This second novel by Minnesota Book Award–winning writer Wendy Webb has all the elements of a downright haunting story—and it is. Be prepared to be scared—and entertained.”
—Minneapolis Star Tribune
“If you’re craving a good old-fashioned ghost story to scare you on these cold nights, this is it. There’s a big house with secret passages (think Glensheen in Duluth), a body that may have left the crypt, a beautiful apparition dancing on the lakeshore in the moonlight, a hidden manuscript, a book of curses, and an old relative who may be insane.”
—St. Paul Pioneer Press
“I haven’t picked up a thriller/horror novel this good in ages. This is the kind of book that gets your pulse racing as you frantically flip to the next chapter to find out what happens.”
—No Map Provided
“Webb is amazing at writing a spooky, gothic atmosphere that will chill you to the bone. This is definitely a novel you don’t want to read late at night while you’re alone.”
—Swapna Krishna
“Ghosts, witchcraft, family secrets, money and power, and pure evil run through this book. I certainly enjoyed it! A fun read and sure to keep you turning the pages. And you just have to keep reading to find out who the heck Mercy Alban is—you’ll be fascinated by the story this author weaves.”
—Bookalicious Book Reviews
“This is a first by Wendy Webb for me, but if anything else she writes is even remotely like this book then she has a devoted reader and fan in me. I was hooked from the very first page, and I refused to let go. Honestly, by the time I reached the final page, I did not want it to be over. I felt like I hadn’t explored every hidden passageway and secret tunnel that Alban House held, and I wanted to spend more time there. I honestly have not read a book that kept my attention like this in a long time.”
—Dwell in Possibility Books
“I was spellbound. Webb’s novel had me hooked from the get-go, and I would not put it down until I had finished the last page.”
—A Bookish Way of Life
“Webb has crafted a modern take on a classic genre—the Gothic ghost story. Family secrets, haunted houses, family curses with a little witchcraft thrown in as well. Webb’s plotting is intricate and keeps us guessing with many red herrings and switchbacks on the way.”
—A Bookworm’s World
“Filled with multiple plot lines including a budding romance, family secrets, and a hint of the supernatural, it is hard to put this book down once you start reading. The ending to this tale almost leaves you to think there might be a sequel . . . and I would love that!”
—Always With a Book
“The Fate of Mercy Alban is a chilling, good read! This book just might make you glad you don’t live in an old, haunted mansion.”
—Cheryl’s Book Nook
The Tale of Halcyon Crane
MINNESOTA BOOK AWARD, 2011, AND INDIE NEXT PICK
“Webb offers an engaging modern gothic tale with a strong female protagonist and well-done suspense. Fans of Mary Higgins Clark and Barbara Michaels and readers who like supernatural elements in their fiction will enjoy this debut.”
—Library Journal
“Debut novelist Wendy Webb gives both Bram Stoker and Stephen King a run for their travel budget, inventing an island in the Great Lakes that can’t be matched for pristine natural beauty, richness of history, touristic amenities . . . and sheer supernatural terror . . . The novel . . . gives a more generous account of how the spirit of a beautiful place can complexly affect a human being, for both good and ill. Wendy Webb is a professional journalist, first and foremost. Like those journalistic masters Dickens and Twain before her, she knows that to write good travel prose, you must give a vivid account of both the demons you find along the way and the demons you bring along with you.”
—Michael Alec Rose, BookPage
“This thrilling, modern ghost story will keep you reading straight through to the surprising end!”
—Midwest Booksellers Association
“Entertaining to say the least. Sensational . . . Webb’s page-turner is a guilty pleasure
best suited for a lakeside cabin’s bed stand.”
—Megan Doll, Minneapolis Star Tribune
“Booksellers are loving Halcyon Crane, which has been selected by three Independent Booksellers’ associations—national and Midwestern—as worthy of special promotion . . . Webb includes all the classic ghostly elements in her novel, but she gives the book a contemporary spin with a strong female protagonist.”
—Mary Ann Grossman, St. Paul Pioneer Press
“This is what reading is supposed to be like: A story that comes across so well, so seamlessly that it is like a brain movie that reminds you of the first books that kidnapped your attention. Webb has crazy chops as a storyteller, and plays this one exactly right. And there are scenes that are so, so visual that it is like someone is reading the book to you while you lie there with your eyes closed. This is one of my favorites this year.”
—Minnesota Reads
“Although not usually a fan of ghost stories, I immensely enjoyed The Tale of Halcyon Crane. With intriguing characters, a vivid setting, and gripping storytelling, this novel contains the ideal blend of sinister and charm.”
—CityView, Iowa’s Independent Weekly
“I love a good, spooky ghost story that carries you deep into the darkest night and raises goose bumps and neck hair. First-time novelist Wendy Webb’s book, The Tale of Halcyon Crane, does all those things with the seamless intricacy of a clockmaker and the silky smoothness of a baby’s cheek. Webb hits every note just right. It’s hard to read a story like this and not compare the author to Stephen King, so I’m not going to do much of that, other than to say Webb carries a lot of the same power in her words.”
—Seattle Post-Intelligencer
“The Tale of Halcyon Crane is a wonderful gothic complete with ghosts and witches, graveyards and dreams. It whisks the reader up and into its magic from the first page. Captivating and haunting, this debut proves Wendy Webb is a very gifted storyteller.”
—MJ Rose, New York Times bestselling author
“Wendy Webb immediately captured my attention with her amazingly descriptive language. I could envision exactly what Hallie was seeing, experiencing, and even feeling. The description of the fog and the affect it had on Hallie was simply chilling and set the tone for the whole story to come.”
—Library Girl Reads
“The Tale of Halcyon Crane throbs with the threat of menace; this is an atmospheric, gothic story reminiscent of Turn of the Screw and had me racing to the finish late into the night to find out what happens next. Read this book.”
—Misfit Salon
“Wendy Webb has created a wonderful gothic mystery in this novel, full of secrets and betrayals. It’s definitely creepy—this is not a book I would want to read late at night, during a thunderstorm. I found it to be deliciously haunting with incredible atmosphere. I thoroughly enjoyed the process of reading this book, of watching this meticulously crafted tale unfold. I had to battle dueling impulses while reading—part of me wanted to rush through it, to get to the end, while the other wanted to savor every carefully drawn word. This is a book that you’ll really want to experience. I’m very sad that it’s over, and that Webb doesn’t have an extensive gothic mystery backlist I can immediately devour. All I can say is I’ll be watching Wendy Webb’s future career with a lot of interest.”
—S. Krishna’s Books
OTHER BOOKS BY WENDY WEBB
The End of Temperance Dare
The Vanishing
The Fate of Mercy Alban
The Tale of Halcyon Crane
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2018 by Wendy Webb
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Lake Union Publishing, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Lake Union Publishing are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781503900820 (hardcover)
ISBN-10: 1503900827 (hardcover)
ISBN-13: 9781503901339 (paperback)
ISBN-10: 1503901335 (paperback)
Cover design by Damon Freeman
First edition
To Ben, my son, moon, and stars.
CONTENTS
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
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
DAUGHTERS OF THE LAKE DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
DAUGHTERS OF THE LAKE AUTHOR Q&A
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CHAPTER ONE
It was finally time for the lake to give her up. And so, one morning in late summer, her body washed gently into the shallows, as though it, she, had simply been floating in a peaceful, watery slumber. She was wearing a white gown, a long, billowing, delicate thing still tied with a bow at the neck, the sort of garment one might imagine wealthy women of the past wearing to bed. A tangle of auburn hair cascaded around her face. She was smiling slightly, and her startling violet-colored eyes were open just a bit, as if awakening from a dream. One arm was concealed beneath the folds of her gown. The other stretched out onto the beach, her hand grasping at the sand as if she were trying to pull herself ashore.
Her appearance was all the more remarkable since she had died nearly a century earlier.
No one who was alive when her body floated onto shore that morning knew anything about her, with the single exception of Kate Granger, who, by no coincidence whatsoever, was in a house that overlooked the very beach where the body now rested.
This dead woman’s loved ones were long dead themselves, their stories, and hers, as magical or as ordinary as they were, buried with them, disintegrating into the earth or the water, becoming a forgotten part of the landscape, just as this woman had been for the past one hundred years.
But some stories, especially peculiar, hidden ones involving murder and mystery, have a way of bubbling to the surface, especially when wrongs need to be righted. They make themselves heard despite efforts to keep them silent. All in the proper time. And now was the proper time.
At the moment the body washed ashore, Kate Granger was pouring the last of the pot of coffee into her mug before curling up with the crossword puzzle in the armchair that had been her favorite as a child. She was unaware her life was about to veer off in a very strange direction.
Her father, Fred, discovered the body. Fred had been walking this particular stretch of beach with his dog every morning for mor
e years than he cared to admit. He gained a sense of peace during these jaunts, with the music of the water lapping at the shore. It was life giving to him in more ways than one.
He had found his share of items on this beach over the years, small things given up by the lake, blown into shore on the wind and the waves. There were the rocks, of course, stones that had been polished by the sand and the water until they shone like glass. They adorned the beach like seashells, gifts from this inland sea. Folks here wouldn’t readily admit it, but most thought these small stones somehow carried the spirit of the lake within them. People picked them up and carried them in their pockets or set them on their dashboards, windowsills, and desks for luck.
Rocks weren’t the only things Fred found during his walks. Even as a little boy, the lake would offer things up to him for his perusal, inspection, or enjoyment. One morning, after a particularly violent storm had reared up suddenly in the night, Fred found a piece of a lifeboat and knew that the lake had taken a ship with all its astonished hands to the bottom. Once, he found a canoe floating in the shallows, still containing a picnic lunch, two life jackets, and an unopened bottle of Jack Daniel’s. He did some checking around but never learned who owned the canoe or what the lake had done with them, but he knew better than to open that bottle of Jack. Still, he had never found anything like this. Never a person.
That morning had begun like any other, with Fred and his German shepherd, Sadie, descending the long, wooden stairway from his deck to the beach. Instead of running down the shoreline as she usually did, Sadie had just stood still. Tail down, head lowered, she’d stared out across the lake and growled deep in her throat, as though the lake’s very presence was menacing. Fred had called to her, “Sadie! Let’s go, girl!” But she wouldn’t move.
He had taken a moment to scan the horizon in the direction of Sadie’s gaze, and sure enough, he saw something floating there, but at such a distance, he couldn’t tell what it was. A piece of driftwood? An overturned kayak? As he’d watched it float closer to shore, Fred had begun to feel a knot in the pit of his stomach. That was no kayak.
He’d squinted into the sun as he’d reached into his back pocket for the cell phone that his wife insisted he carry on these walks and dialed Johnny’s number at the station.
