Shrouded Lake

By Dani Simmonds

Haunted or hunted?

After tragedy strikes, Catriona Moor's life is upended when she's forced to take over the family business at the Whisper on the Moor Resort. After finding the operating funds for the business have been stolen, her life becomes further complicated when she finds out there's been a murder at the resort. The police can't seem to find the perpetrator, so she has no choice but to launch her own investigation. Catriona quickly realizes the danger she's in when help comes from the most unlikely of sources—the resident ghost at the resort. Can the ghost help her find the real killer? Or will Catriona join her in the afterlife?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dani Simmonds
• Release date: Mar 28, 2019
• ISBN: 9781733838009

Dani Simmonds

Dani Simmonds has always loved reading mysteries and horror, which was later fueled into writing them when she moved into her first haunted apartment. She's held a wide variety of jobs over the years, from working at the School of Drama, to working in a psychiatric hospital, to her current position in the art industry. This has given her quite an extensive range of interesting people and experiences to draw from. She lives in Everett, Washington, near her children and grandchildren. Check out her website at https://danisimmonds.com/ for news on up and coming books.

Book preview

Prologue

W here do you think you’re going? You thought you could get away from me? He growled sharply, taking a step toward her. You thought I wouldn’t find the documents you hid? I finally found them carefully camouflaged behind your desk. Well, I won’t have you taking them to the police. His lips pulled into a sneer as he pulled a gun from his pocket. And I’ll see you don’t.

The blood drained from the young woman’s face as she backed away. She issued an abrupt scream. The cold, damp air bit into her lungs and puffed out in a plume of life. She turned and ran for the stairs, her pink scarf rippling into a fluttering fan behind her.

He found them! How?

She misjudged the bottom step in the darkness and stumbled on the stairs. Catching herself, she grasped the railing.

A flash of light briefly ran through the room as the shot rang out. Stunned, the woman slowly looked down. A red rose quickly blossomed across her chest with its rapidly spreading pedals. She fell against the bookcase, knocking over a framed photo.

Collapsing onto the stairs, the billowing collection of delicate pink cloth soon enveloped her, then stilled.

1

The start of any journey begins with checking north on the compass. —Brandt Moor

October 13, Friday

Y ou’re not going back to work at the resort? Doris Olsen asked in surprise, raising an eyebrow.

Catriona Moor breathed a sigh of relief. She’d told her aunt and it wasn’t so difficult, after all. She shook her head. I figured it’s time for me to move on to the next chapter of my life and try something new. I’m thirty-two now. I’ve worked for Dad all my life. Well, my whole life until now. I even dropped out of college to help him out after both of his heart attacks. Cat paused to cut some wire. But lately, I haven’t felt valued or recognized, and Dad doesn’t need me anymore. In the last few weeks, they haven’t had any problems they couldn’t handle without me. I miss the challenge and excitement of doing something new and want to try my hand at learning other skills while I’m still young. Maybe I’ll finally finish school or get a job at one of the luxury hotels in Seattle. She sat back and took a bite from one of the chocolate cookies Doris had brought in.

The older woman adjusted her crutches. You’re a lifesaver for me here.

Cat’s dimple on her left cheek flashed as she smiled at her aunt. It was Cat’s last day at her aunt’s shop, called Below the Bevel Frame Shop, located in Everett, Washington. Cat had been helping her over the last six weeks while her aunt recovered from her knee replacement surgery. It was also the day her younger sister, Mirin, would arrive from California.

So have you told your dad yet? Doris asked.

Cat tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. No, my dry run entailed telling you first. I’ll tell him tonight when Mirin and I go home. I hope her coming up will help soften the blow.

The fluorescent lights flickered four times. Cat stopped wrapping the frame’s hanging wire and glanced up, smelling lilacs.

Lisa? Cat muttered, looking around the room.

Doris frowned in curiosity at the lights. So, uh, how’s Mirin doing?

Cat looked back at the frame, distracted. She’s obviously still upset, of course. Her husband slept with her boss’s wife. She didn’t even know about their affair and felt naturally shocked to lose her job as a result.

Her aunt’s mouth twisted. Unbelievable. Punishing the victim is horrible. I would’ve killed Jeff.

I agree. So she figured a long road trip would help clear her head and allow her to take pictures along the way. She pointed to one of Mirin’s panoramic photos for sale on the wall. She should arrive around lunchtime. Since it’s Friday, she’ll have the weekend to catch up with Dad. Maybe he can find a position for her somewhere at the resort.

What about your job since you’re leaving?

Cat shrugged. I don’t know. It’s up to Dad, I suppose. She’s not the hands-on person he needs.

Butterflies fluttered through her stomach as Cat went over her speech to her father. When her sister showed up, they’d head to the resort. At least her aunt understood her need to get a job outside the family business. Hopefully, her father would echo the same opinion.

I’m sure it’ll work out. It’s good you left your car back at the resort, Doris mused. You can catch up on the drive.

Uh–huh.

Glancing up at the clock, Cat grabbed her purse from under the counter. The lights overhead abruptly blinked four times as the door chime signaled someone entering the shop. She popped the rest of her cookie into her mouth. Cat fished her phone out and saw her sister hadn’t called yet. She started to dial Mirin to check on her status when she heard a man’s voice behind her.

May I please speak with Catri-mina Moor?

Figures. Salesman.

Ready to give the door-to-door peddler the bum’s rush, Cat groaned and turned around, blinking in surprise at the two police officers standing in front of her aunt. Doris nodded toward Cat, her eyes large. The taller of the two police officers approached Cat, removing his hat.

Miss Moor, I am Officer Briggs. The employees at the Whisper on the Moor Resort told us where to find you. I’m sorry to tell you, but your father, Brandt Moor, perished in a fire at the resort.

And just like that, her father was gone.

Choking and coughing, Cat spit the cookie into the trashcan. What?

Doris hobbled to Cat’s side. Oh my God!

I—I’m sorry. I must’ve misunderstood you. Th—that’s not right, Cat gasped.

My condolences, Miss Moor. Your father died in a fire earlier today in his cottage. The fire had mostly consumed the building before the fire department arrived. They recovered his body, and dental records have already confirmed his identity. I’m so sorry for your loss.

Officer Briggs uttered some other words, but Cat no longer heard him. She pushed by him and ran into the bathroom and threw up.

When the last of the dry-heaves subsided, she got up and washed her face. Still tasting the vomit, she used the mouthwash from under the sink.

Cat? Doris called gently through the door. You okay, hun?

Yeah, I’m… fine. She leaned over the sink with her hands firmly gripped on the edge of it.

When Catriona finally came out, her Aunt Doris stared at her with wide eyes.

Good God, Cat, I’m so sorry. Doris enveloped Catriona in a hug. The crushing embrace made her wonder if she’d throw up again. How horrible.

I—I can’t believe this; it’s so unreal. This shouldn’t happen. Shaking, Cat sat on one of the stools as tears glistened on her cheeks. She looked around and saw they were alone.

They had a call. Doris waved a hand toward the room behind her. I told them I’d stay with you. She took the stool next to Cat and placed her arm around her shoulders. I’m so sorry, Cat. I can’t believe Brandt’s gone. Your father was the sweetest man. I know life was rough after my sister died, but I never once heard him complain. Please let me know if you need help with anything.

I shall, Aunt Doris. I—I need to head back. Cat slowly wiped her eyes.

Of course. Go take care of those at the resort. They need you now.

Could you drive me back to your house, please? I’ll text Mirin to meet me there. I want to tell her in private.

The butterflies in her stomach now slashed and tore at her insides, flooding her heart with blood and tears. She couldn’t believe her father, her pillar, was gone. They simply had to be wrong—it must be a mistake—her father couldn’t be dead.

Cat thought of her decision to leave the resort and, instantly, felt guilty. Logically, she knew her plans weren’t responsible for his death, but in her heart, she felt as if she’d betrayed him.

Cat couldn’t leave the resort now. They needed her, just not in the way she’d hoped.

She decided they would drive out to the resort and see for themselves if the cottage had burned—after she broke her sister’s heart.

Marking her hours on the calendar, she realized it was Friday the thirteenth.

Very bad luck, indeed.

Mirin, Dad died in a fire at the cottage this morning, Cat repeated gently to her sister.

What? No… that’s… impossible. Mirin’s eyes welled up, and tears silently spilled over her cheeks.

Mirin was thirty—two years Cat’s junior. Short and dark-haired like their mother, Mirin’s own long hair sparkled with highlight streaks, and she sported a new Monroe piercing on the left side of her upper lip. In comparison, Cat was tall like their father and wore her short blonde hair cut in a reverse bob.

I’m sorry, Mirin, Cat continued. But it’s true. The officer stated they’ve already identified his body.

Mirin cried harder. No, they must have the wrong person, the wrong cottage, the wrong resort.

Cat folded her arms around her sister. I’m so sorry, hun. Come on. We’ll go to the resort and have a look ourselves. I’ll drive. You could be right—maybe they meant to call someone else.

Have you tried ringing him?

Yes. And it went straight to voicemail.

Do you think he suffered a third heart attack? Mirin asked as Cat pulled away from the curb.

Possibly. I don’t know.

I wish—I wish I’d seen him before—before it happened. I haven’t seen him since, shit—when?

I think two years ago, Christmas.

Holy crap, I can’t believe it’s been so long. What’s wrong with me? Why did I stay away so long? Mirin shook her head.

Life. You were busy working for the Keer Architectural Firm, schmoozing clients, and dazzling them with your talent and charm.

Mirin whipped her head to glare at her sister. Is that a dig?

Cat sighed. No. I’m only saying life has kept us all busy. Even I wish I’d spent more quality time with Dad lately, and I lived with him.

Maybe… Mirin began, but Cat’s phone ringing interrupted her.

Cat glanced at the display and saw it was an unfamiliar number. She answered the phone through the car speakers.

May I speak with Catriona Moor?

Speaking.

My name’s Kurt Banning from the Index Police Department. First, Miss Moor, I want to say I’m sorry for your loss. I’m in charge of your father’s case and will look into the cottage fire and your father’s death. I understand your sister, Mirin Burton, is with you?

Cat looked over at her sister. Damn, you’re thorough.

I got off the phone with your aunt a moment ago. I’d like to make an appointment with you and your sister to go over some questions. I can meet you in your office at the resort tomorrow. Would noon work for you?

Cat glanced at Mirin, who nodded. Yes, noon’s fine.

Great. See you tomorrow. And again, I’m sorry for your loss.

Part of Cat’s brain still frantically hoped her father was alive; however, with the second phone call from the police, it seemed less likely. The longer she took driving to the resort, the more she could prolong her hope. Eventually, they would arrive at the resort and then see firsthand if their cottage had burned.

And their father dead.

Located in a secluded forest off the Cascade Loop in Index, Washington, the Whisper on the Moor Resort nestled into the shadows of the Cascade Mountains. As Catriona drove into the foothills, the sky became overcast and bleak. Almost home now, she dreaded finding out Dad was gone. And like Schrödinger’s Cat, if she didn’t have factual proof, then he could still be alive.

When they reached the entrance to the resort, a deep fog had entrapped the world around them.

The resort’s logo consisted of crossed oars in front of two clouds, above a lake flanked by a pair of pine trees. Cat once asked her dad why he added clouds when it’s always foggy at the lake.

I could make a white square for the logo… He chuckled. It’d be an accurate portrayal, although not exciting from a marketing perspective.

Cat drove down the long driveway toward the resort. Normally peaceful and therapeutic, the forest road wove past the visual, musical beat of trees, punctuated by the rare sprinkling of sunlight through the pines. Today, she didn’t notice anything as the tightness grew in her chest.

They rounded the last curve of the road, and the main lodge emerged from the fog. Nestled between the trees and the lake, it sat alongside the marina.

With twenty cottages sprinkled around the lake, guests could rent golf carts for transport. Their family cottage, number twenty, enjoyed the most seclusion, being the farthest from the lodge.

The Whisper on the Moor Resort sat on top of land riddled with natural caves, caverns, and tunnels. These tunnels snaked throughout many parcels of land, creating natural passageways stretching for miles. During Prohibition, they were a great asset to the bootleggers. The caverns directly beneath the lodge hosted the resort’s extra storage.

Quiet and secluded, the lake enjoyed its privacy. Originally named Hidden Lake, they renamed it Shrouded Lake because of the ever-present fog, which sometimes burned off around noon, only to roll back later in the day.

Cat turned down the second driveway on the right, which circled the lake. She slowed the car down, hoping to postpone what she already suspected. As the car made its final turn around the bend, what remained of their cottage came into view.

Cat stopped the car as she and Mirin stared in silence at the burned-out hulk of their family cottage. Several collapsed walls leaned heavily against the remaining structure. The big bay window facing the lake resembled a gaping mouth. Several slow tendrils of smoke rose from the ashes. Curling into soot snakes, they drifted away in the breeze.

Seeing the remnants of the fire brought the harsh reality crashing down—their father was dead. Her hopes that it was a terrible misunderstanding crumbled.

Schrödinger’s Cat was undeniably dead.

Mirin started to cry. Unable to produce any comforting words, Catriona squeezed her arm. I wanted them to be wrong too. Let’s get a cottage. Then we’ll talk with the employees to see if anyone knows what happened.

She realized everything she owned burned in the fire, except for the overnight bag in the trunk. But she’d gladly give up all her possessions to get her father back.

As Cat followed the loop back to the lodge, her thoughts returned to the small coils of smoke curling toward the sky. Their dad was truly gone.

She’ll get them a cottage and a little privacy. Then they could start processing this horrific day.

Catriona parked in front of the main lodge. You want to come in?

Mirin shook her head.

Cat dragged her feet up the stairs to the lobby entrance, her sorrow weighing heavily on her. The daytime porter, Patrick, opened the door for her. As she crossed the threshold, he enveloped her in a big hug.

Oh, Cat! I’m so sorry to hear about Brandt. The place won’t feel the same without his sunny smile, Patrick sniffled, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his dark red uniform. His neatly trimmed goatee trembled as he tried to hold back his emotions.

Catriona breathed in the warm smell of his aftershave and of the freshly baked cookies on the courtesy table behind him. For a moment, she could imagine her father hugging her, so she closed her eyes. She finally pulled away and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue as she looked around.

The large wooden compass rose inlaid into the floor radiated out toward the far corners of the lobby. Comfortable blue and white striped couches scattered invitingly throughout the room, surrounded by various nautical equipment and decor. Her father personally picked out each display item, and she often wondered if her father envisaged the resort someplace tropical and salty.

Mirin’s photos, framed by their Aunt Doris, displayed proudly along the lobby walls and included the nearby mountains, the rare sunset over the water, and guests enjoying the lake. Cat’s favorite consisted of the marina viewed through the fog on a moonlit night.

The reception desk, located in the back corner of the lobby, contained adornments of nautical rope and knot carvings along the front. A wooden inlay on the wall behind it displayed the resort’s name and logo.

The fireplace to the right of the reception desk boasted of an intricately carved woven rope pattern around the mantel, ending in a monkey fist knot at the base.

Behind reception, the right hallway led down to several rooms, including Catriona and Brandt’s office and the staff entrance to the restaurant’s kitchen. The hallway to the left led to the elevator, restaurant, bar, and several conference rooms.

As a master wood craftsman, Brandt Moor designed and created all the wooden inlays and carvings displayed around the resort.

Kameka, the receptionist, waddled up to Cat and gave her a bumbling hug. Her long black hair hung behind her like a shawl. Nearing the end of her pregnancy, she resembled a little round ball.

Oh, Cat, we’re going to miss him so much. I couldn’t believe it when I heard the news.

Cat tried to hug her back. I can barely reach around you anymore. I can’t believe how big you’ve gotten in the last six weeks. Kameka grabbed Cat’s hand and put it on her abdomen, where something hard moved against her palm. Oh, wow!

Kameka grinned. It’s probably an elbow. Her elbow. We found out we’re having a girl.

Congratulations! How’re you feeling?

Tired. It’s exhausting work to grow a human being.

I’ll bet. I’ve got Mirin with me, and we need a cottage. Do you have one available?

Kameka slowly returned to the main desk and checked the computer. Cottage number three is free. Do you want it?

Catriona opened her mouth to ask for a cottage farther away so the paying guests could be near the lodge, then decided she didn’t want to stay too close to her old home.

We’ll take it. She accepted the keys from Kameka, noting briefly they were glowing blue.

Dropping their belongings off at the cottage would merely simulate a symbol of residency; it simply wouldn’t resemble home without Dad.

Cat looked up as Nancy the bartender came into the lobby. Nancy wore her long black hair in a high ponytail. She rushed over to greet Cat. Oh, Cat, I can’t believe what I’ve heard today! Are you holding up okay? Can I do anything for you?

Cat hugged Nancy and kissed her on the cheek. I’ll take all the days before today.

I’m so sorry to hear about Brandt. I can’t believe I won’t see his smirk and grin around here anymore. Is Mirin with you? Nancy asked.

Cat nodded. We’re in cottage number three. She paused and looked around. Do any of you know what happened with the fire?

Nancy shrugged. I don’t know if it’s reliable since the gossip train doesn’t do any fact-checking. I heard the guest next door woke up around two in the morning to use the bathroom, saw the fire, and spotted someone running from it. They called 911, but not in time for Brandt.

Oh, and the police took Anthony in for questioning, Kameka interjected.

Anthony Sanchez? Cat asked in shock. Why would they take him? He’s only a waiter.

Kameka shrugged. Several people saw him running from the fire.

Cat chewed on her lower lip. Which doesn’t make any sense. Several people? Several people were looking outside at that hour?

Good question.

I’ll return soon to see everyone. Cat stopped to grab a couple of cookies.

Surprised, she wondered why they brought Anthony in for questioning. Obviously, her father’s death didn’t involve any of her employees. Perhaps when the police arrived at the fire, they spotted Anthony and wanted to question him as a witness.

Cat felt exhausted, both physically and emotionally. She struggled to keep her composure, but it was a thin veil at best. Everything at the resort reminded her of her father, so she felt some comfort here. Eventually, they’ll have some time to process everything, but for now, she felt the numbness of shock, which she welcomed. That’ll help get her through seeing all the employees.

When Catriona got back to the car, she saw Mirin holding her hand over her eyes.

A migraine? Cat asked.

She nodded slowly. Cat placed one of the cookies into her other hand, and Mirin took small bites between sniffles.

Cat drove them out to cottage number three, a sturdy whitewashed building with a wraparound porch and a private dock. Here the sights and smells of the lake ate at Cat’s heart. The fog gave small veiled glimpses of the lake as it revealed then obscured it as the layers shifted and turned the lawns spanning the cottages into a grayscale ground covering. She could hear the subtle sounds of the water lapping against the dock as a duck disturbed the glassy surface. The musty, earthy scent of cold fog and wet wood smelled sweetly of home.

Inside, the cottage glowed with warm-toned cedar panels, giving it a provincial charm. Built in an open plan design, the only enclosed spaces consisted of the bedrooms and the bathroom.

Looking around, a flood of memories hit Cat. Signs of their father displayed prominently throughout. The cabin presented a large wooden compass rose inlay above the fireplace, exactly like the one on the lobby floor. Each cottage contained a different design, and this one remained Cat’s favorite of all the fireplace inlays their father had made.

The cottage they’d lived in, number twenty, included a wooden inlay of the Cascade Mountains. Cat realized with sorrow the colorful inset of wood she’d looked at every morning no longer existed, nor any photos of it—nor any photos from their cottage, period.

Mirin quickly pushed past her and headed for the bathroom. Shortly after, Cat could hear her throwing up.

You okay, Mirin? Catriona asked through the door. Need me to get you anything?

No, she groaned. I’m going to take a migraine pill and lie down. Which room do you want?

I’ll take the one facing the lake if you don’t mind.

Mirin made a grunting sound which she took as ‘okay.’

Cat heard the sound of tinkling and turned. The windchimes she’d made in her ninth summer still hung on the wall next to the window. Her father showed her how to make them, then proudly bought one for each cottage from her.

Mirin closing the bedroom door jostled her from the memory. Her sister didn’t take part in creative arts and crafts like Cat, but she shared a green thumb with their mother and had spent her spare time in the garden with her.

Cat stared at the closed door and realized