What Everyone Knew (A Disappearance Mystery Thriller Book 2)

  LAURA GREENE

  A DISAPPEARANCE

  Mystery Thriller

  WHAT EVERYONE KNEW

  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.

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Also by Laura Greene

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  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Melody waits in a small study. The room is from another era, swathed in wooden oak panelling and leather bound books. It was only yesterday that she discovered her father's note, and yet it is constantly on her mind. He had been to Deacon House. Not only that, but he had been inside the library and left a warning that Melody should turn back and never darken the doorstep of that remote mansion again.

  This place is dangerous, Melody thinks to herself as she stares at the books placed on the desk in front of her. They are a collection of school books covering a variety of subjects; everything a young child would need to expand their mind and their abilities, with the right guidance.

  It is Melody who is to offer that guidance.

  Everything is arranged neatly.

  Melody has spent the past day preparing as best she can, but the nerves are still there. It is not simply the nerves of her hidden identity. No one knows, as far as Melody is aware, that she is the daughter of a man who once walked the corridors and rooms of this sprawling house, and recently, too.

  No, the nerves Melody feels are also from having to face a young girl and to be a worthwhile guide in the meantime. After all, she's never been a tutor before, even though this is about to be her cover. But little Rebecca requires guidance, and, while Melody's real purpose there is to find out what happened to her father, she would like to be as good a teacher as she can be.

  Why should a child suffer because something dark and ominous is going on at Deacon House? Besides, in order to keep the Deacons from knowing her true identity, she has to keep up the act. She has to inhabit the role of a teacher, and a good one at that.

  Melody catches her reflection momentarily on a large mirror adorning the opposite wall. I look like a school governess, she thinks. Then she stares at herself, sternly. She is playing the part a little too well — her dress and appearance a far cry from her usual relaxed personality. If I am playing a part, she thinks, might as well dress up for the role. And dress up she has. There is a refinement about her.

  Footsteps echo somewhere nearby. She is still not used to how unseen footsteps cause strange echoes which deceive the ear at Deacon House.

  Melody is on the second floor of the mansion, with countless rooms around her, but she is comfortable in the small study.

  The window looks out across a vast lawn to the rear and then to a dark patch of forest, terminating in a high ridge of evergreen trees. Beyond that, the ferocious mountains rise up like an unstoppable force of nature cutting through the Earth's crust. A force that not even the ominous woods could resist.

  As the footsteps grow closer to the door of the study, Melody checks herself in the mirror once more. Her hair is up and pulled back in a high bun. She is wearing a cream blouse and a dark green thick skirt that hangs down to her ankles. A gold necklace and locket an old boyfriend gave her hangs around her neck.

  Doubt begins to permeate her mind as she knows the footsteps are about to reveal themselves.

  “I look too fierce, I look too fierce,” she whispers to herself as a loud knock sounds on the door.

  “Please, enter,” Melody says, clearing her throat.

  The door opens a few inches, creaking as all doors seem to at Deacon House, and then ceases to move. For a moment, Melody stares blankly at the door, wondering what or who lies on the other side.

  Every knock at a door seems ethereal somehow in this place; almost as though it were a strange dream, caught in the grips of a bygone era. Although being in such a sprawling house on a remote Scottish island, invokes images of ghostly apparitions walking the halls and rooms of a forgotten mansion, it is an entirely different type of pale face that now stares at Melody. One timid and innocent. Not one to fear, but one to cherish.

  Poking through the gap in the door, a brown haired little girl stares up at Melody with a shy smile. Her pale cheeks soon blush as Melody looks at her and smiles.

  “Hello?” Melody says in an enthusiastic but soothing tone. “Are you Rebecca?”

  The girl darts back into the hallway. A whispering conversation is then heard between Rebecca and someone else — low enough that Melody cannot quite make out the words. But they take on an encouraging approach. They are the words of a family member trying to put young Rebecca at ease.

  As the whispers diminish, the door then pushes open to reveal Will Deacon standing in all his domineering glory. Rebecca now hides behind her uncle's legs, peeking out from behind. They are like a barrier for Rebecca, a shield protecting her from the unknown woman about to take her into her care. But such a large figure casts a dark, deep shadow, one that dims the starkness of Rebecca's pretty red tartan dress.

  “Good day, Miss Winter.” Will says, nodding with a furrowed brow. He then turns to his niece. “Come now, Rebecca. This is Miss Winter. Don't be shy.”

  Will's voice is deep and carries with it a timbre older than his years, it has character to it, a voice that can only be forged through dark and difficult experiences. It may seem aged in a way that it shouldn't, but it is no less vital. And with it comes an underpinning of a stern kindness. The type that needs unlocked to be truly seen.

  Melody is glad to see Will be both firm and well-meaning with little Rebecca. There is something about this man; something deep. To Melody he resembles the mountains nearby, carved out of the Earth's sheer rock to withstand the elements and all the tragedies they bring.

  But someone so impervious to such difficulties can often have a dark heart, and this is something Melody is particularly wary of when thinking about what happened to her father.

  “Rebecca,” Melody says, leaning on her knees and bending down until she is eye level with the little girl. “I'm Melody. And I hope we can be friends.” Melody reaches out with her hand.

  Rebecca stares momentarily at the hand of the grown-up before finally reaching out cautiously and shaking hands with her new teacher. Her pretty red tartan dress flutters in a draft coming through the door behind her. It is a draft that can only mean one thing: someone has entered the mansion.

  “Will! Rebecca!” another loud voice comes from below. It has something of the quality of Will's voice: rich and booming, though not as deep, and not as darkened by the dangers of the world.

  Will rolls his eyes at the sound of the voice, then he smiles.

  “That will be my brother, Maximilian. He's returned from a business trip I sent
him on, sooner than intended, I see.”

  “Oh, it'll be nice to meet him,” Melody offers with a smile.

  “Quite,” replies Will. “You might regret that, though, he has a way with wo...” Just as he is about to say the word, he clearly checks himself at the presence of his niece.

  Melody knows he was about to say that his brother has a way with women. But Melody has handled many unwanted advances before, so she is quite unmoved by this less than subtle warning.

  When Will's brother yells from downstairs again, Rebecca turns and darts back out of the room, her feet pattering along the corridor outside and away from the study.

  “Rebecca! Come back here at once!” Will booms.

  But it's too late for her to turn back. Like all children, once the whim is felt, they must dash off to it, almost helpless as if being carried by an unseen wind. Rebecca's feet can be heard running down the main staircase and into the reception hall below.

  Melody listens and almost grimaces at the sound on the stairs, worrying that she might be running too fast for her own good.

  “Uncle Max!” Rebecca then yells, her voice reverberating throughout the main stairwell like droplets of water in a cave. It is the voice of a child filled with love and excitement.

  “My little Rebecca! Come here and give your Uncle Max a big hug,” the other voice echoes. Despite the size of Deacon House, even though it warps the words from a distance through unfathomable echoes and reverberations, the words are still clear and clean.

  Will sighs and then steps fully into the study where Melody is still standing and closes the door. It is clear from the way Will looks at the door and quietens his voice, that this is a conversation he does not wish to be heard by unwelcome ears.

  “Forgive Rebecca for her exuberance,” he says. “She is very fond of her Uncle Max and he has been away for a few days. He's not always the best influence on her, but what can one do when a child has already lost so much.”

  “Yes, you must feel very deeply about Rebecca's well-being. You and your brother.” Melody offers. “I would very much like to meet him, too. I'm sure he can't be as bad as you say.”

  Will looks suspiciously over his shoulder at the closed door again. The sound of Rebecca jumping around somewhere with her Uncle can distantly be heard. Maximilian is regaling her with stories of his adventures, clearly embellished in some places, completely made up in others.

  “The thing is, Miss Winter... A matter most delicate... I would ask you to be wary of my brother. He means well, and, please do not misunderstand me, he is a good man, but he does have a habit of being...” Will seems to be searching his mind for the right words. “He has a habit of being overly affectionate with the staff here at Deacon House. This has caused problems before and I've had to hire other servants simply because the previous ones had fallen in love with him, had their hearts broken, and Max, he is a free spirit in many ways, so he is in and out of love with different women with each calendar month. And, I do not wish to make you feel uncomfortable, but you are a striking lady, and so...”

  “Thank you,” Melody interrupts, blushing. The compliment does something to her deep within.

  “It is so difficult to find someone with your qualifications on the island to come and teach Rebecca. So, for your and Rebecca's benefit,” Will continues, “by all means be friendly to Max, but if he should ever...”

  “Don't worry, Mr Deacon,” Melody says with confidence. “I'm sure I can bat away his unwanted advances with ease. I didn't come to the island to fall in love.

  “And why did you come to the island?”

  “To write my book, of course. You know that.”

  “Quite.”

  Melody is nervous at that last exchange. Does he know who I am? But she quickly dismisses this as paranoia. Will Deacon has no reason to believe that she is there to find out what happened to her father.

  “Shall we?” Melody says, pointing to the door.

  “Indeed,” Will says, opening the door.

  Melody walks alongside Will to the top of the stairs, their footsteps echoing and merging together.

  “It is pleasing to have you with us, Miss Winter,” Will says quietly. “I feel you will do wonders for our Rebecca.”

  Reaching the staircase, they descend. At the bottom, Melody catches out of the corner of her eye a cheerful Rebecca playing with a new doll with strawberry blond curls and a lime green dress. Clearly, it's one that Uncle Maximilian has just given her.

  And there he is, too.

  “Oh... And who is this treat?” Maximilian says with a broad, enchanting smile. He is as tall as Will, leaner still, and his black hair carries with it a dishevelled look not at home with what Melody thinks is his economic standing.

  Keeping Will's warning in mind, Melody does not give him an inch. “I'm no treat, Mr Deacon,” she says firmly. “I am Rebecca's new teacher. Miss Winter. Nice to meet you.”

  “I am only joking,” Maximilian teases, a slight grin forming on the side of his mouth. Next, his chest inflates proudly as he says, “Excuse my shabby appearance, I've been running around keeping the family empire going while Brother here mopes around.” At these words, Melody hears Will sigh next to her.

  Maximilian then steps forward and shakes Melody's hand. He gives her a strange look for a moment, almost as though he recognizes her. But Melody once again feels she is looking for something that is not there. A moment passes after Maximilian makes his apologies, then he disappears upstairs to have a bath. In the wake of his abrupt departure, Melody concludes that he probably needs it after traveling all day.

  “I look forward to getting to know you, Miss Winter,” Maximilian says from some unseen place upstairs. “And don't let my brother's stiffness bore you, you can call me Max. None of this Mr Deacon nonsense.” A loud slam of a wooden door then sounds and it appears Maximilian is gone, though Melody wonders how much can be heard from his room given how far voices carry in the house. It is the perfect place for eavesdropping, and Melody tries to take a mental note of this in case it proves useful during her investigation.

  But for now, she must turn her attention to her new job as a teacher at Deacon House.

  “Is this your new doll?” Melody says, turning to Rebecca, who is touching her doll’s hair gently in a reassuring way.

  Rebecca holds the doll in her hands, its blue eyes and strawberry blond hair are a beautiful compliment to Rebecca's red tartan dress. “Yes, Miss Winter,” she says. “Uncle Max always brings me a present after one of his trips.”

  Will steps forward and opens the palm of his right hand. “You can play with the doll later, Rebecca. Please give it to me, for now.”

  “No! I want to play with it!” Rebecca says, forcefully, her bottom lip quivering.

  “Remember what I said before today: No distractions. You must go with Miss Winter here and have your first lesson. After that, the doll will be waiting for you and you can...”

  Rebecca moves backwards in defiance as only a child can. “No, Uncle Will! I want my doll!”

  “Listen to me, now!” Will's voice rises in volume, and to Melody it seems as though it is strong enough to shake the very foundations of Deacon House.

  Rebecca's eyes blink involuntarily at the booming noise. She steps back, and Melody is shocked to see an expression of fear flicker across her face.

  Then a voice returns from the stairwell above.

  “Let her have the doll, for goodness sake, Man,” Maximilian says, suddenly reappearing in front of a large, looming and grim oil painting which dominates the staircase. “I can hear you shouting from the other wing.”

  “Stay out of this, Max,” Will says sharply. “Rebecca is my responsibility.”

  “You don't have to be a bully about it.” Maximilian lets out a displeased grunt and then disappears again to some unseen part of the house, clearly not wishing to engage with his brother any longer.

  “Uncle Max understands...” Rebecca says, quietly playing with her new doll and stroki
ng its hair.

  Will opens his mouth to speak once more, no doubt to chastise the child, but Melody steps forward in anticipation of this and crouches down in front of Rebecca. She reaches out and touches the doll's pretty green dress.

  “Have you thought of a name for her, yet?” Melody says in a soothing tone.

  “Sarah,” Rebecca whispers quietly, her face is sad as though anticipating losing the doll, no matter how temporarily. Even an hour is a lifetime to a child that age, and to be given a present only for it to be taken away seems unfair through juvenile eyes. This, Melody understands.

  “That's a pretty name,” Melody says. “I think Sarah looks like she will be a most excellent student. In fact, I would be very happy to teach both you and Sarah together upstairs in the study, as long as you can persuade Sarah to listen and be polite. What do you say?”