The Shivers Between, Book I: A Supernatural Mystery: Dark Moves Beneath, #1

By DH Young

Under the waters…what if somebody can hear you scream?

 

Owen Tremaine is in more trouble than he ever imagined. 28 years old, the founder of a software company in Corpus Christi, Texas, he thought work-related burnout was a major crisis. After walking away from his company, he's spent a year trying to reinvent himself as a private investigator, living on a houseboat. Which he realizes is a fantasy that's not really working out, but he doesn't want to admit that to anybody…yet. Maybe a few more months will turn the tide.

 

But then, on a lazy summer afternoon, a good friend gets killed on Owen's houseboat, and Owen finds his body. The police think Owen's girlfriend may be involved. She's missing, and so is Owen's former business partner. Who, judging from the blood left on his floor, may also be dead. Then there's the kidnapping of a local child. And…it turns out that not everybody involved is, strictly speaking, human. Which Owen also never saw coming. Magic? Really?

 

Owen's new skills get a workout. Now he's dealing with what used to be his own cutting-edge software development company, a police detective who takes a personal interest, some downsides of recent anti-terror legislation, and…a surprising discovery about local Native American history. You know, the magic thing. Turns out extinction is more complicated than it first appears.

 

But hey. Owen's still got friends. Too bad he doesn't know as much about them as he thinks he does….

 

Find out what happens. Get it now.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cabin Fever Press
• Release date: Jun 13, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393424277

Book preview

The Shivers Between

Book I

DH Young

Cabin Fever Press

Copyright © 2020 DH Young

All Rights Reserved

Table of Contents

Title Page

Dedication

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

Thanks for Reading!

Dedication

To Mary Anne. She knows why. But for the rest of you…she makes the good things in my life possible. As for me? I just try to keep up.

Author’s Note

I’ve taken some liberties with Corpus Christi’s geography. Mainly I’ve altered driving times for convenience, and created a new City Marina. As for Viktor’s house, it’s really there. Somewhere.

Chapter One

(One Day Before—Hunter)

The hunter found her on Saturday night, at the downtown Whataburger between Water Street and North Shoreline Boulevard.

He’d always wanted to hunt there, but busy streets and bright lights in the parking lot had made it impractical. Tonight, though, he noticed all but one of the lights were out—and road construction had shut down traffic on Water Street. He pulled in to see what would be offered to him.

Corpus Christi, Texas was the home of Whataburger, and the downtown restaurant was huge. Two stories, a deck, kids going everywhere. It felt wrong to him, letting kids run wild like that. But maybe their parents were blind to the nature of the world, or their families’ rightful place in it.

When he saw her he already knew it would go perfectly. Past sunset, the sky going blue-black, the city lights brightening, the dead-fish ocean smell blowing in from the Bay…dwindling twilight was his domain. He glanced slyly at the well-lit building across Water Street from the restaurant, almost wishing someone would come out and try to stop him. But that was mere fantasy. Between the darkness and the construction signs, he wouldn’t even be seen.

She looked to be about ten years old, with long blonde hair and an energetic stomping sort of walk. Blue and white dress, white stockings, dark blue shoes. Or so he guessed. He couldn’t actually see her shoes from the parking lot. But he was sure they would be right. She was that kind of person.

Her parents looked like tourists, if they were her parents. She didn’t seem to fit them, somehow. Her father sported a mostly-red Hawaiian shirt with olive-green nylon shorts, possibly a swimsuit, definitely due for a wash. Her mother wore old jeans and a faded orange T-shirt. But the girl appeared ready for church on Sunday. She was sharper, more in focus, a higher order of being. Did they know she didn’t really belong to them?

He was sitting in his van wondering how he would get to her when she solved the problem for him. He watched her argue with a younger boy (her brother?) and stomp back to her parents with an air of setting things right. He lost sight of her for a few moments, and was thinking about going inside—though he knew better and would never have actually done it—when he felt an almost electric tingle at the base of his spine and realized she was outside the restaurant, with a set of keys in her hand, heading toward his corner of the parking lot. He supposed he wasn’t surprised.

As she passed, he got out of the van. He left the engine running and followed her back toward Water Street. She stomped along, intent on her mission.

Susie? he called. She reminded him of a girl he’d known when he was about her age. What was her name? Albright, that was it. What the hell. Susie Albright?

She stumbled, but kept going without looking back.

Time to invoke authority. Come on Suze, I have something for your mom, he called. Hold up a sec!

She turned around. I’m not Susie, she said. I think you’ve got the wrong person. She hesitated, then shrugged. My name’s Katie.

That’s it, he told her directly, without speaking. He was sure she could hear him. Stay put, now. Keep talking. Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else. Susie’s my horse, you see, and she’s always wandering off in parking lots. I think maybe she wants to be a car.

The girl looked amused. Or maybe a little irritated. Maybe both. I’m supposed to look like a horse? Nice story, I guess. What do you want?

Could she be older than she first appeared? It didn’t matter; he was almost there. Actually Susie’s my niece, and she looks a lot like you. I have something I was going to give her mom, and I thought you were her. He shrugged. Maybe I’ll give it to you anyway. Do you like chocolate?

Um . . . She glanced toward the Whataburger behind him and took a half-step away. I’m not supposed to take stuff from strangers.

Of course she wasn’t. And yes, she was too old for candy to work. But she was beautiful. Dark blue eyes, the color of the sea. Perfect. She belonged in the deeper waters, away from sandbars and shallow folk. In his world, dark and quiet and still.

Well, okay, I can find a different horse then. Oh, she would be so good.

She rolled her eyes. Enough with the horse thing, okay? It was funny the first time, but not anymore. She turned and walked away.

Horses don’t eat chocolate anyway, he said, following her. So I guess it’s for me.

A car pulled into the lot behind him and he froze. He cocked his head, listening, but it went past him and parked on the far side of the lot, under the single working light. It disturbed a group of seagulls, which squawked and flew into the air.

He smiled at the driver when she got out, though he didn’t think she could really see him. He was just a shape in the dark. Most likely she wouldn’t have looked directly at him anyway. She’d probably heard that eye contact was dangerous—they taught that sort of thing in self-defense classes. And of course she’d parked under the light. Good for her. Safety was important.

He turned back to the girl. She’d picked up speed, circling around to the right. She didn’t know where her car was. Hey, what if you took the chocolate inside and asked your mom if it was okay? He angled to cut her off. It was almost time. She stopped between two SUV’s and peered back at him. About to bolt, maybe.

He glanced around. No witnesses except for the lady who’d parked under the light, and she was almost inside. He reached out with a foil-wrapped package.

Seagulls screeched and flew nearer to investigate. No, birdies, none for you. Impatience filled him with the power he needed. Come on, you little bitch. Just a couple of feet closer.

She looked past him, toward her parents. I can’t. I have to go. She turned away, hesitated for a moment, then headed farther from the restaurant.

Okay. That hesitation was a sign. She clearly wanted him to take her.

He stood between her and her parents. The potential witness had gone inside, and there was nobody else around. But that could change at any moment. Time. Go for it.

He ran after her.

His feet scraped on the sandy asphalt and she glanced back over her shoulder. She spun and threw the keys at his face, looking more angry than frightened. When he reached up to block them, she took off at an angle toward the light and the restaurant beyond, dodging between cars so he couldn’t cut her off.

He laughed as he ran. He’d known she was special. But she was just a kid, and gawky, and he would catch her.

She tripped as she jumped over a curb. He dove onto her sprawling body, pinning her down, and covered her mouth with his left hand. He’d scraped it as he landed, and her eyes widened with the taste of his blood.

But she was still a fighter. Even as he brought a rag out of his pocket with his other hand, she bit him, hard. More blood flowed into her mouth. He panted with laughter, excited by the game. He knew she wanted to be with him, or would want it later, when she understood. The same thing, really.

She struggled briefly, but passed out soon after he covered her mouth and nose with the sweet-smelling cloth. She was perfect, he knew. Perfect. She’d never shown any fear at all. He picked her up, filled with compassionate joy by her potential, and carried her back to his van.

As the van moved slowly out of the parking lot, a seagull swooped down to grab the foil-wrapped chocolate he’d dropped on the asphalt. Another flew to contest it. More gulls appeared, summoned by the noise and activity…or, he supposed, just possibly they were created by it. He wasn’t going to rule it out. The night was magical, and so was he, and so was his prize.

Taking her, having her, wasn’t really the point this time. It was part of a larger plan. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t play with her. He shivered all over, rubbing his arms gently, then put both hands on the wheel as he turned toward the Crosstown Expressway.

In the parking lot across Water Street from Corpus Christi Police Headquarters, the only sounds were the ticking of a cooling engine, tucked away safely under a light, and the discordant screaming of gulls.

Chapter Two

(Sunday Afternoon—Owen)

Shadow quit struggling when they got past the boat. Owen set him back down on the dock, nearly tripping himself over somebody’s bait bucket.

He braced on one knee and scratched Leon’s dog behind the ears. Once they were past the worst of it, he figured seventy pounds of muscle and bone, split about equally between Black Lab and Great Dane, ought to be able to walk on its own.

But he didn’t blame Shadow for balking earlier—Owen half-longed to plant himself on the concrete and whimper right alongside him. If he could just get a little more distance first.

The smell ought to have faded by now. He stood, inhaling a warm soup of Texas Gulf Coast humidity, diesel exhaust, and the almost-visible stink of rotting fish. Anything beyond that, this far from the boat, had to be a memory…stuck in his nose. He tried breathing through his mouth instead.

It didn’t help. It just reminded him that his mouth still tasted vile, and his teeth felt fuzzy under his tongue.

But the marina was full of people going about their business as if they didn’t notice a thing. Owen practiced forcing himself to breathe normally until he was fairly sure he wouldn’t pass out, then twitched Shadow’s leash. He led the dog down the dock, up the ramp and across the parking lot, unable to meet the eyes of anyone he passed. Shadow bumped into his legs all the way.

He hooked the leash over a post of the Coast Guard’s Kids Don’t Float! sign next to the payphone, for once barely registering either the newly familiar oddity of the recently installed payphone or the well-meaning slogan’s enthusiastically goofy claim. Shadow sat on his feet.

Owen wiped at his face with his T-shirt, but the sweat kept dripping. The shirt was too stiff with dried saltwater to help much. He found the police non-emergency number and dialed. His knees shook and he pulled over a cheap plastic chair.

CCPDmayIhelpyou?

He almost smiled, and something in his chest opened. He forgot about sitting down. She sounded so bored. Efficient, too. She probably sat at a clean desk, in a cubicle in an air-conditioned building, living in a chill world where phone calls were dull. He wanted to kiss her. This is Owen, uh, Tremaine. There’s a—

Sirhowdoyouspell ‘Tremaine’?

T-r-e-maine, like the state. Look, there’s a dead body on my boat. He closed his eyes, wishing his memory of Leon’s face would subside, and feeling guilty that he wanted it to. No way it was an accident. Somebody killed him. I’m at—

Sir, what is your location? She sounded more alert. But what did she think he’d been about to tell her? So much for efficiency.

Owen sensed bureaucratic machinery jerking into motion on the other end of the line, and sighed. The official wheels, once started, would grind in their own way, however disconnected they might become from any reality he could grasp. He reached down to pet Shadow, who licked his fingers gratefully. God, he wished he could get back into his kayak and paddle away from all this. Out in the Laguna Madre, he could go for days without talking to anybody.

But Leon deserved more than that. Ma’am, please just be quiet for a minute and listen to me. I’m at the Corpus Christi City Marina, the new one, on Ocean Drive. Slip 35, on the first finger to the left as you walk out. The dead man is Leon Purvis. He has a—

Sir, I have to ask this. Do you feel you are in immediate danger?

He hadn’t even thought of that. Should he have? If this had happened to Leon, somebody must have been responsible. Who? Why? Was whoever had done it still here? Uh, maybe. I mean, I don’t know, but I don’t think so. I’m not on the boat, and from…from the condition of the body I don’t think anything happened today.

Sir, I’m dispatching a cruiser and an ambulance. She sounded doubtful. They should be there shortly. Please stay on the line. Do you have a driver’s license number or state ID?

Machinery in motion. The conversation suddenly seemed hazy and meaningless, her now-skeptical voice nothing more than a bland echo. What was the point? He’d have to go through it all again when the cops showed up in person.

He should get himself together before they did. Besides, Shadow really needed to go for a little walk. No telling how long he’d been shut up in there. The poor guy was probably hungry and thirsty too.

So Leon’s dog would trump bureaucratic gibberish, for now at least. "Ma’am, I think we’re done. I’ll be waiting out by my boat. It’s the Fusty Navel, slip 35."

SirIneedto—

Owen hung up, feeling a little better. Irritation and defiance had restored his strength. He led Shadow out of the parking lot and down the street, tempted as he went to just keep going and never look back. Who would it hurt?

But…no. The police would probably react badly if he wasn’t there. Not that it would be much better if he stuck around.

Still, he wasn’t staying on the boat tonight even if the police allowed it. Leon’s little cabin cruiser wouldn’t be available this time either. Maybe he could get a hotel room, if he could find a place that didn’t mind dogs.

He thought of Shawna, but she’d moved into an efficiency apartment. He and Shadow wouldn’t be able to breathe. And Shawna had a huge, spoiled, declawed Siamese. Owen didn’t want to strain their relationship just when it had started to work again.

But he needed to call her anyway, to break their date for tonight. She’d understand, under the circumstances. At least he hoped she would.

Shadow took care of some urgent business on the sidewalk. Owen cleaned it up with a baggie he’d grabbed from a dispenser in the parking lot, then turned back toward the payphone.