Courtney Adkisson

Cover Design by Art by Karri

Sneak Peek – Chapter 1

One

January 1922

I jolted awake.

My skin was covered in goosebumps, and it took more than a moment to gather my wits. I took in my surroundings feeling my heart pounding out of my chest.

I was more than a little relieved to find myself in my messy but quiet study. It would’ve been pitch black, had it not been for the dimming fire in the hearth or the oil lamp that glowed in the corner. I managed to return my panicked breathing back to a steady rhythm.

I turned my head and I jumped.

I rolled my eyes, rubbing my face in embarrassment as I groaned at my own reflection in the mirror. Then again my appearance…wasn’t the best.

I stared myself down for a moment. My auburn hair had grown out to my shoulders after months of growth. My beard had become scruffy and appeared barely presentable. My green eyes were tired and my clothes from the night before were more than a little disheveled. I couldn’t remember the last time I looked like myself.

The older I became, the more I looked like my father.

And I hated that reminder.

But I was me, and I was no longer that fifteen-year-old boy running in the woods scared and alone. This particular nightmare was an almost daily expectation. It had repeated since the night I found my mother. It haunted me as if I was missing some pieces of a puzzle that I could never solve. And I never found them.

My father had died in the line of duty, but I’ve always blamed myself for my mother’s death, even though she was just as much a victim as he was. This cursed place had a way of reminding you of the ghosts that roamed here. Their lives always ended in vain.

I looked down at the piles of photographs that were scattered about my desk. Some needed more sorting while others remained tacked onto a local map my father had acquired from my cousin who worked as a cartographer for the state. He was thrilled to find it for us since he missed being in his hometown.

The legend read off “The Town of Blackwood Hollow” in beautiful print which seemed like a farce if anything with the chaos that happens here. The map was covered in photographs pinned throughout the town. All linked to friends, families that moved, missing people. It was a long-standing project my father had refused to surrender…that I later pursued. Because all of this was his…and I didn’t have the heart to get rid of any of it.

In stark contrast, my hastily written barely legible chicken scratch penned names, dates, and other various details to each family. Cases. They were all cases that I refused to ignore, now added to the history mapped out of Blackwood Hollow. Too many accidents that were left to rot and die with the victims. It was always a hard pill to swallow, but I refused to put down that torch.

I looked around my desk, then bent over, rummaging around until I felt the neck of the whiskey bottle. I picked it up, noticing the weight. As I looked at it, I cursed realizing the thing was empty…again. My father kept his collection in the cellar and I only just recently started raiding the stash that hasn’t been touched much since I turned of age. With the prohibition…it’s not like we had much in the way of options right now, at least not publicly.

I hated that in the more recent months I had taken to drinking. It was never something I prided myself on. But after the last case, I started wondering if anyone else in this line of work had the same feelings. It got harder to cope the longer I went about things.

A little girl went missing this time…the father I knew, and a dear friend of mine was absolutely devastated by it. Now things were getting too personal. His face when we found her…I couldn’t handle it. They packed up their things and claimed they would start a new life somewhere else. Because that’s all this town is good for. Death and escape. Where he ended up, I wasn’t sure. There was no means of contact after he left. He could’ve been dead for all I knew.

I placed the whiskey bottle back under my desk as I continued to clear off a few stray papers.

As I moved a few things aside, I stopped, feeling something underneath. I lifted the chaos piled on my desk and spotted a worn necklace with a damaged cross laying untouched. It was still stained.

My mother’s ribboned cross. One that I didn’t have the heart to bury with her.

I cursed under my breath, pulling out a drawer and tossing it out of sight. I slammed the drawer harder than I had intended.

A shimmer of photograph caught my eye. Despite the lack of color, my memory filled the blanks. In the picture a woman, smiling at me with curled what I knew was honey blonde hair, fair skin and bright green eyes and a man with dark auburn hair and hazel eyes standing next to her. They were dressed for the summer, just the two of them, before I was even conceived. My face twisted with guilt as I stared at their forever smiling faces.

“Don’t look at me like that…” I spat.

For a long moment, my parents stared back at me in the eerie silence. I grabbed the photograph, pulled out the same drawer I had thrown the necklace into and slammed it shut. Tears that were forced back released, falling down my face.

My fist slammed onto the desk and I felt my voice yell without restraint.

This was not the life I wanted. But there was no other option.

My mind was swirling then I jumped at the sudden ring of my telephone.

***

The small town of Blackwood Hollow was a strange, isolated place.

If it was ever sought out, I never really knew. There was a moment in my life I wanted to run from this place, but that was nearly a decade ago.

I never once explored outside the boundaries of town. Visitors were a rarity, and people wanting to settle here puzzled me. But I suppose that if someone came from the bustling streets of the main cities, perhaps from the outside, it looked like a quaint little town. Most families who came here moved for the sake of privacy, avoiding prohibition, or something they were running from. Others have been here since the very beginning, far before me, generations of accumulated status including my own parents.

Despite the town’s grueling reputation, I knew nothing but here. As I got out of my teens I accepted this was home, no matter how chaotic it was under the surface.

Blackwood Hollow was all rolling fields, bordered by grayish pines on all sides. It was as if they were imprisoning us from the rest of the world. My mother used to joke of it being a peaceful little snow globe. Compared to the cities that were rapidly growing, this place seemed like a quiet paradise.

The only history that seemed consistent throughout the generations was a sign greeting everyone:

Welcome to Blackwood Hollow, NJ, Est. 1675.

Now that the winter season had hit us, the town was already blessed with patches of snow and ice. Even though there was always the inevitable chill, it caused many locals to instinctively bundle up in their winter attire.

I found myself mimicking them, tightening my dark, charcoal wool coat that wrapped all the way down to my ankles. It was from my great-grandfather who came from Ireland. It always felt as though my family was perhaps one of the few that basked in this weather. Then again, I always dressed for the cold, including my boots. I kept my newsboy style cap close as well as my dark scarf to keep the wind off my neck.

When I stopped, my eyes rested on the cross at the top of the church. I felt my hand immediately reach into my pocket. I pulled out that photograph of my blissful summery parents staring back at me. My eyes went back to the cross.

It was supposed to be a sign of hope. But to me it had become something that haunted my mind. Something empty. Maybe I wasn’t praying enough. And yet that’s who called me this morning: a man of the church and an old friend.

“I was worried maybe Michael scooped you up,” a voice greeted, startling me.

I whipped around to find the older reverend leaning against the door of his clergy house.

Reverend Bill Donovan was a man in his fifties, showing a bit of age in his eyes and bright red hair that was thinning at the back. Despite bags under his eyes, he still had those cheery laughing lines. Even in a serious time, Bill was known to keep everyone’s spirits up and his faith close.

I had known the man since I was a boy and being, for lack of a better phrase “dragged” to the local church. The only church. My family went, dare I say, “religiously” after the first noticeable incidents. They insisted that praying would keep the demons of Blackwood Hollow at bay, the same ones that took them from me. Of course…that didn’t change anything around this cursed town. I’m not sure, but God seemed rather silent in the last few years.

The idea of going to church churned up too many memories that I even couldn’t fathom anymore. I had a hard time going after I was old enough to leave my aunt and uncle, and inherited the estate. Plus, in this town, I knew the truth. I expected Bill was smart enough to know the same. He was the eyes and ears of this town before I was even born. And now, here he was…asking me for help again.

Bill was bundled like everyone else, clutching his jacket with dear life as he withstood the cold even for a few minutes. He leaned further out of the door, squinting as if to be sure as he approached.

“Reverend,” I greeted him with a small smile. “Surprised that you called.”

“You’re allowed to call me Bill or Mr. Donovan, Connor,” Bill corrected. “You’re a grown man now.”

I nodded, glancing at the church. Habit. He was always mindful of everyone. Though I became exceedingly uncomfortable as the pastor made an unsettled face. I felt the need to fill the awkward silence.

“I’m sorry it’s been a minute since I-”

Bill put up a hand to stop me.

“I’m sure God will forgive your absences. Everyone has their reasons,” Bill reassured, as he stepped down from the clergy house, coming closer to me. He offered a hand, pale and ungloved despite the chill. I reached out and shook it firmly. There was some warmth in the gesture, but…it wasn’t what it should’ve been. Something troubled him, and I could tell by the phone call. I had to remind myself why I was here to begin with.

“I meant to see you for a while now,” I mentioned. “How’s Mary?”

“Still kicking and making the best Irish stew out of all of us,” Bill smirked.

“Remind me to drop by next time,” I said. “Is this a good time? You called rather late.”

“God knows I have all the time in the world,” Bill grinned, leaning in and patting me on the shoulder. I felt his hand push me gently towards the clergy house. “Although I’m not a fan of this chill mind you. Unlike you.”

Bill winked at me, opening the door and waving us inside. I couldn’t help but smile at him despite the worries plaguing my mind. He was right, though. I was a fan of snow, and the possibilities of snowball fights and forts. That opportunity hadn’t presented itself in a long time though.

Bill closed the door behind us quickly as the screeching of a tea kettle caught his attention, and he rushed over into the kitchen.

“Please,” Bill offered, gesturing to the simplistic dining room set up.

The room was as bare bones you could get: a square wooden table and two chairs. There was a third chair, but it remained empty considering the dust it collected. It sat idly by an adjacent window just in case of the rare occasion of more company. There wasn’t much room for a party unless you wanted to sit on the wooden floors, though I couldn’t imagine anyone stopping by for more than a few minutes. Staying at the clergy house longer than that would mean something was troubling such as a post funeral arrangement or a marital squabble.

It was surreal being back in this place. Very rarely did I have a chance to be here. When I was a child, the rowdy children would play in the living room with various toys and games while our parents went to service. I, unfortunately, was one of those children. Mrs. Donovan would babysit and keep us entertained while her husband led services for the day. Thankfully, I grew out of at least attempting to be a nuisance during such events. The children my age were rather boring anyway or wouldn’t play fair.

The kitchen had the basics anyone would need. A wood burning stove that was being used at its absolute best with the current season. Blackwood Hollow had electricity for a while now, but despite all that, Bill tried to keep things humble unless necessary. That’s something I’ve always admired about him.

Bill grabbed a spare teacup included in a plain tea set, clearly passed down or donated judging by its wear and tear. I sat down in the opposite chair of the small dining table looking around the room. Bill grinned as he placed a teacup in front of me filled with what looked and smelled like a strong, black breakfast tea.

“Thank you,” I said as I immediately reached for the sugar and stirred it. I couldn’t stand bland tea. It makes it hard to focus on anything but the taste.

“Mary just got this, said the Fields family got a new batch for their tea shop,” Bill mentioned.

I flinched at the name. I’ve been rather distant with the family for a while now. Felt like such a ghost after some…disagreements. I had to restrain myself from feeling anything other than sympathy as I cleared my throat and I forced myself to smile. “My mother loved their tea. This by far was a favorite in the morning.”

I noticed Bill’s eyes were on me. My parents were close to Bill in my younger years. I wondered if he had missed them as much as I had or if the town even noticed they were even gone.

Bill always had such a way about him that made me feel as though he could look into my very soul. Then again, I wondered if most religious men could. That’s why they were called to this “business” I guess. I wasn’t sure if I was ever holy enough to even be in the presence of such a profession. It was probably for the best considering my predicament.

Bill sighed, moving the kettle back in its place to cool.

“So…dare I ask how you are feeling,” Bill asked, choosing his words carefully.

I put the teacup down, and my leg instinctively started to bounce slightly under the table. It was an unconscious habit as my mind searched for any possible answers.

Bill sat down as I felt the looming silence filled the room, engulfing us slowly. Part of me wanted to be honest, but the other part just wanted to get to the bottom of the call.

“I’m alive to say the least,” I replied simply, as my fingers started tapping along the top of teacup.

My mind was racing as Bill watched me, his arms crossed. I had a suspicious feeling he wanted to pry, which I thought was mildly amusing being in a job that requires so much patience.

“Well, I suppose that’s acceptable for now,” Bill sighed. “However, the way you choose to live is still…concerning.”

“That being?”

“You know how small this town is. Word gets around,” Bill reminded me. Here we go.

“Does it ever,” I agreed.

This town had a habit of knowing everyone’s business. It was a blessing and a curse depending on who you talked to. I wasn’t exactly sure where my position sat yet. A lot has happened in a decade.

“I do pray for you,” Bill mentioned. “Hoping you’ll one day find your answer somewhere other than the bottle.”

I flinched. Of course he would know about that…and lecture me on it. I knew he meant well. Well…there was no way of avoiding even a smidgen of this conversation.

“Did the boy tell you?”

“More like his mother but you know how she is,” Bill corrected.

Of course it was her. It’s always her business. The idea of anything getting past her seemed impossible for me. Even though she had her own life now, and I wasn’t in it.

“Have you seen her lately?”

“She comes every Sunday with or without Mr. Atwood,” Bill grumbled as he shook his head, almost hissing at the name. “I know you don’t want to hear about him. But there’s a reason I say to watch the bottle.”

In an instant I watched his eyes shift to an almost stern parental warning. I acknowledged the warning and nodded. I knew I had to quit or at least moderate. Even my father warned me while he was alive. He was unfortunate enough to see the worst from family and friends growing up. Now I’m victim to it, some days were harder than others, especially lately.

“She’s happy,” I gritted. “No one asked for my opinion on it anyway.”

“I was there…I’m very aware of your opinion,” Bill scoffed. “And believe me I agreed. And I’m not sure happy is the correct word. But no one asked me either. I’m just…sorry I didn’t make it in time.”

There we go…the flashing of what used to be filling my mind. I rolled my eyes at the memory as I mulled it over as I sipped more of my tea.

Then I grinned. Despite the semi-seriousness of the conversation, I found it amusing of Bill’s behavior to be so protective. “Are you about to lecture me on my bad habits and past infatuations,” I asked. “Or are we going to talk about why you called so late?”

I knew he meant well despite the teasing, there was a long silence before Bill found the courage to speak again. He shifted before lightening his tone. Yes…I suppose I should be worried about him.

“Oh yes right,” Bill sighed. “You know Mrs. Baker?”

I almost spit out my tea.

“Ted Baker is married?!” I demanded. Bill raised his brows, smiling slightly. The tension broke and he nodded. Now this time I had to compose myself. “Didn’t think that stoic boulder would ever find someone with his cheery nature.”

“Well, he did. Elizabeth Sutton,” Bill chuckled. “I was there. I officiate all the weddings around here you know. Sort of part of the job.”

Somehow that was even crazier.

“Elizabeth Sutton?! The bubbly theater girl who sings at the church,” I clarified. My tone didn’t conceal my utter shock at the news. This was unreal.

“The very same,” Bill chuckled. I felt relieved and chuckled with him in disbelief.

“Didn’t think she would be his type. Chatty and all that,” I quipped, sipping more tea. “What about her?”

“Well-” Bill started, his playful smile immediately fading as he began shifting uncomfortably in his seat which was odd behavior even for him. “It’s actually about Evelyn.”

Evelyn.

I felt my body freeze.

Bill noticed and started stammering and started backtracking. “I-it’s okay if you say no-”

I felt my teacup land a little hard on the saucer. Bill nearly jumped and I gave him an apologetic look before putting out a hand to proceed.

“I’m all ears,” I interrupted smiling politely.

Anything for her. Although…it seemed rather strange that she had any issues at all. If she did, she would’ve told me. Or at the very least Bryan would’ve noticed, wouldn’t he? Perhaps it was something with her father again. The embarrassment of his gambling addiction was nothing new. Or it could be about the boy. Maybe that’s why he wouldn’t mention it.

Bill nodded, taking a breath. I leaned forward instinctively, ready to hear every word.

“The Bakers had Evelyn over with Bryan the other night,” Bill explained, the words slow and processing. “She showed up with a shiner.”

What?!

My jaw clenched at the thought. Someone hit Evelyn. But who?

I remember Avery Atwood. He was known to be a rather well-known pretty boy of sorts. He was an uncannily popular boy at school to the girls with his looks. That led to him always flirting with the next girl that would come his way. Though he wasn’t thrilled that his parents had insisted Evelyn and him get married since their reasoning was…questionable: a debt payment and her father was the main culprit.

Evelyn was reasonably distraught after finding out she had no choice but to marry Avery. I’m not sure the man was thrilled either with the type of attention he had from other women. I doubt he really stopped. I had a sneaking suspicion that he might’ve still been seeing others on the side, knowing Evelyn’s feelings for him. It was a shame she was trapped in such a conundrum.

But…to swing at her?

I felt the urge to break something. I was more than a little relieved to see that Bill was just as upset as I was. He was, after all, her more pleasant father figure.

“What happened?” I grumbled, my voice surprisingly steady.

Bill leaned forward and then whispered as if we were out in the open.

“I normally do not condone unreal gossip, but the boy came to me directly,” Bill whispered.

I furrowed my brows. It was odd for the boy to just up and ask for help.

“Bryan,” I clarified. “When?”

“Last night,” Bill stated simply. “Before that I had some…suspicions.”

I knew Bill had his reservations as well. Knowing the history between Evelyn and I, maybe being away from everyone made me just as blind to what was happening.

I stayed quiet as he took a moment to gather his thoughts.

“When they got married, he stayed away from the church. Even the ceremony was on their property,” Bill explained. “His family sort of stayed out of things, claimed to have prayed differently or something of that nature. Never felt comfortable in such a small place after moving from their own country. But even so, Evelyn came by herself, alone, then stopped almost entirely for a while. It wasn’t until I approached her that she convinced him she would come back.”

Bill paused for a moment. She never told me she stopped attending services. The idea of Evelyn not showing up was such an oddity, especially after her mother passed away. She didn’t have any comfort with her father being as deep in the dark as he was. Everyone knew her at service growing up. I didn’t realize Avery was that disconnected from the rest of us.

“I was rather grateful she came back,” Bill added. “When she started coming back, however, something changed…he changed.”

“Was there a tragedy?”

I was already feeling rather betrayed that I was so disjointed from her life.

“I’m not sure. There have been no funerals under his family name, but nonetheless Evelyn came to me a few weeks ago stating he’s been snapping at the oddest moments. He’s even gotten accusatory and unusually possessive. What’s worse is she suspects he’s been leaving in the middle of the night unannounced. Then again given his record we shouldn’t be surprised, should we?”

I mulled over every detail. Avery was far from stupid, but his family status and his choices were not always made by him.

Perhaps their marital arrangement was only something to hide behind with Evelyn’s family being indebted to them. It’s not like he was committing murder, just committing a shoddy marriage.

“When Bryan showed up, he was silent and pacing. He said he was worried for his mother’s safety,” Bill added.

Despite the priest being in front of me I couldn’t help but curse, as I leaned back in my chair. Bill seemed to forgive me, nodding in agreement.

“Have you talked to Avery?” I asked.

“No…I rather not stir the pot any more than it is,” Bill replied. “As you know, I’ve already tried once to interfere with that family’s decisions. Unfortunately, I can’t force them to listen. I’d rather keep my flock together, not scatter them and turn them against each other.”

I nodded. I could understand Bill’s urge to want to protect her. But he wasn’t always in the position to do so.

“Mistress?”

Bill shrugged. “It’s very possible if he’s out and about,” he admitted. “But…Bryan seemed more concerned about her and wouldn’t tell me why other than the incident last night.”

I’d have to talk to the boy. It was the only way to get a clear picture of what’s been going on. I knew very well that Evelyn would never stand for this kind of behavior from anyone in her family not after what we’d been through.

“I know this isn’t the most comfortable circumstance for you,” Bill added. “But I didn’t know who else to go to.”

“You think Michael could-”

“There’s nothing against Avery yet. It’s all hearsay and speculation,” Bill said. He sighed, looking at me, sympathy in his eyes but there was a shift to pleading. “Is it too late to ask for that favor? You’re still working, yes?”

The possibilities caused my mind to simmer. How could she not tell me what was happening? Perhaps she was afraid of getting in trouble. She told me she needed to limit contact with me…perhaps that was Avery’s doing. I knew my reasons why I limited things with her. I would never tell her.

I tried to keep my cool as Bill sighed, looking out the nearby window. It took a moment as he watched the passerby before he spoke again. “Elizabeth is helping me run the services tonight,” Bill explained. “I encouraged Evelyn to come assist for some peace of mind. If things get out of hand, I want you to protect her.”

I felt my body stiffen. “You act like he’s going to suddenly turn feral on her.”

“Something already happened, and that man has been showing his true colors in these short months. If he shows up, I need someone to get in between them.”

I turned, following his line of sight. Outside, happy, unbothered people passed the clergy house as they ran their errands. I felt as if I were in a snow globe with our own troubles separated from their reality.

“I don’t know about you…but there’s almost a sudden shift in the air,” Bill whispered, uncomfortably. “I can feel it gnawing on my bones. I just don’t know what has changed.”

I knew what he meant. There was something that happens here that gives all of Blackwood Hollow fair warning. Some seem blind to it, while others like myself and my closer colleagues feel it in our souls. But we were never sure of what or who was going to be in the crosshairs. Ever since my father, I was always prepared for the worst. So why did Avery’s interruption feel so wrong. “You always had a way of knowing when something is about to happen.”

“So do you,” Bill scoffed back. “Will you ask the boy his side of the story? I know you’ll listen to him.”

I nodded. I just hope the boy was willing to talk.

“He’s very fond of you…he’s at that age where he won’t tell you,” Bill chuckled. “Teenagers.”

I felt a forced chuckle in my throat. I stood from my chair, and Bill sighed as he did the same.

“Thank you. For everything,” I said and nodded as I turned to head to the door.

“Connor,” he called out, forcing me to stop.

Bill gripped onto my shoulder; he gestured towards my hand. I furrowed my brows in confusion as I reached out my hand, opening it.

Bill placed a wooden cross into it.

“Token of my gratitude,” Bill explained.

I swallowed at the gesture. It was as if it was going to start burning just being in my presence. I felt my hand move towards him to give it back, Bill stopped me firmly, gently closing my hand around it.

“I was going to give this to your mother when she served with us. After your father died. But then…everything happened.”

I looked back down, staring at the cross as my throat went dry.

It was dark wood, similar to the one that was around her neck.

“I know you haven’t made it to services in a while,” Bill stated softly. “Just a little bit of God to protect you, hm?”

Bill meant well. I knew he did, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t still reluctant to take it. I pocketed the cross into my jacket anyway.

“Thank you,” I grunted. “Just hope He can save me from doing something I’ll regret.”

“Let’s start with the drinking, hm,” Bill replied with a wink, patting my shoulder as I wrapped my coat back around my body.

Bill opened the door, and we nearly came out of our skin as two women shrieked from behind the door. One of the women lost her grip on some loose sheet music she was carrying. She immediately flushed and dove for it. Then my eyes rested on her and I almost grinned, forgetting the seriousness of the past hour for a mere moment.

“Elizabeth Sutton,” I greeted her.

I could tell she was too distracted blushing even harder than before.

“That’s Mrs. Baker to you now-” Elizabeth began but froze as she finally looked up at me.

She was still breathing heavily from the flustered encounter. She paused, recomposing herself and stood tall as if to show some form of confidence. Elizabeth Baker was a late twenties girl, who recently had been wedded to the “love of her life,” Ted. She was a pretty girl. Sandy hair, bright blue eyes and dressed in a red coat that seemed to perfectly match her rosy chilled cheeks and painted lips. I could see how Ted would be infatuated with her. It’s not hard with someone like Elizabeth.

I tried not to laugh as Elizabeth’s mouth was gaping before grinning to my surprise.

“Mr. Sullivan!” Elizabeth shrieked in glee. “It’s been too long!”

I scoffed in amusement, nodding towards the papers.

“Do you need a hand?” I asked, as I instinctively knelt down to help her with what she dropped.

She seemed to snap out of her daze and immediately followed suit. I did my best to gather what I could before it collected moisture from the snow. That’s when the other woman’s voice greeted us.

“Connor?” she greeted from behind Elizabeth.

I froze at the voice. I looked up, my body slowly straightening from the ground.

Evelyn Fields…well Evelyn Atwood now. The name gave me a bad taste in my mouth…always had when she had to change it.

The winter did not phase her beautiful nature. Evelyn was almost the total opposite of Elizabeth. Her eyes were gray, her hair was almost auburn, but it had shown darker like her mother in the winter season. She was bundled in a black ankle length wool coat and had a splash of lavender color on a scarf she wore.

We’ve known each other since we were children. When we were a bit older, I would’ve told her everything in small doses. I don’t know if she’d believe that even now, she still managed to take my breath away.

And then…I saw it. The bruising formed around her right eye.

I tried my best not to show my rage. How could Avery possibly lay a hand on her? But my hands were having difficulty not forming into fists. Evelyn stood smiling but I could tell that she was more than a little embarrassed. It wasn’t like her to be so aversive. She was a good honest girl and now she wouldn’t tell me she was in trouble. Maybe it was such a fluke of an incident that even she didn’t know how to go about explaining it. One would hope.

I must’ve looked awful already with my unkempt appearance and the horrendous nightmares I faced. But, in that moment I didn’t care, and I felt myself staring at her. It wasn’t until Bill reached out to his arm and gripped my shoulder that I felt myself finally take a breath.

“Mrs. Atwood, Mrs. Baker, I wasn’t expecting either of you for another hour at least,” Bill interrupted, trying his best polite smile.

Elizabeth nudged Evelyn who was cringing. Though her eyes never left mine. I felt myself staring. Whether she noticed or not, she pretended not to make a bigger deal.

“I’m so sorry Reverend, we just needed the air,” Elizabeth said hurriedly. “Is this a bad time?”

“No! No of course not,” Bill replied with a grin, “Connor was just-”

“Leaving actually,” I finished mimicking his polite smile.

I found myself stepping around the women carefully as I made my way down the small stairs. Elizabeth smiled sweetly at me and as I glanced at Evelyn once more she refused to look me in the eyes. That hurt. Hard. More than I was willing to come to terms with. Especially in her circumstances.

I didn’t want her to be brave. I wanted her to tell me so I could punch the man if he deserved it.

“Oh! Don’t forget we’re having a special service tonight,” Elizabeth announced. “Maybe you should join us?”

That’s when I noticed Elizabeth’s eyes flicked motioning towards Evelyn as she stood by the door. I raised my brows slightly.

“Yes, I was just inviting Mr. Sullivan out tonight,” Bill agreed.

I felt my eyes look down at the ground and then back at Evelyn.

“Connor’s not a fan of being at services he-” Evelyn began.

“I’d be happy to,” I intervened. That’s when she finally looked at me, sort of stunned at my answer. I’m not surprised. “What time?”

“Seven,” Bill and Elizabeth answered almost in unison.

“Great,” I chimed. I looked at Evelyn painting a smile on my face. “Will you be there Miss Fields?”

“It’s Mrs. Atwood,” Evelyn corrected. My stomach clenched. Even sixteen years later, it was still hard to admit she was no longer Miss Fields. “And yes, I will be there.”

Evelyn seemed to notice the silent pain on my face. That man didn’t deserve an ounce of her. And I was going to get to the bottom of whatever the hell this was.

I swallowed as she turned escaping into the clergy house behind Elizabeth and Bill.

I turned to head back. Then I heard Elizabeth rush down the steps frantically and I heard her voice call out, “Connor?”

I turned.

Elizabeth stopped in front of me, smiling sweetly. She leaned in, close enough to speak out of ear shot. “Thank you. Please try to talk some sense into her,” she whispered. “That man needs to be reminded who she is to us.”

“I’ll try,” I whispered back.

Elizabeth smiled sweetly and kissed me on the cheek. I couldn’t help but blush a little as she grinned. “If only you’d come to church more often,” she quipped. “I might actually consider you an angel.”

I scoffed in amusement as Elizabeth rushed her way back to the clergy house. Bill gave me a nod before shutting the door behind him.

I had to walk home in the cold, trying not to destroy everything in my path. How could he? What was wrong with Avery and why would he go after her? I was going to get my answers. I didn’t care how I got them.

If God wanted to stop me, he needed to do it soon. Because I couldn’t promise the man wouldn’t be dead.

***

Blackwood Hollow is a fictionalized supernatural horror mystery, self-published and available on ebook, paperback and hardcover. Check out my website on where to find it globally!

Blackwood Hollow:

Connor Sullivan always knew that there was something wrong with his hometown of Blackwood Hollow, NJ. Mysterious deaths and missing persons cases seemed more common than they should for such a small, isolated place. Some even believed it to be a “curse.” After the tragic death of his parents, Connor became a private investigator spending years trying to follow even the smallest lead to the disappearances to no avail. Whether it was monsters or men among them, not even Connor had been able to connect the dots. When a good friend, Reverend Bill Donovan calls over a domestic dispute involving one of his parishioners, Evelyn Fields, Connor’s curiosity is piqued enough to take up the case. Connor couldn’t have predicted that this one case would begin the domino effect which may very well lead him to finally solve the mysteries that surround Blackwood Hollow.