Angels Gate

By Kerry Christine Vrossink

Ryder Burket is an aspiring culinary and gossip writer for a local newspaper, sent to interview monks at an old monastery turned into a cheese factory. It seems the cheese these monks are making is out of this world. Unfortunately, Ryder is delayed by a small car accident and arrives later than expected, feeling unwell, but her unease has only just begun

When she arrives at the monastery, there are no monks, no cows, and no buildings to indicate a cheese business. The only occupants of the Angels Gate property are creepy caretaker Sam Wilmott and his wife. Too tired to drive, Ryder stays the night but abandons the story in the morning and flees. She returns home to an even more shocking surprise.

She has not been gone a day but four months, and detectives have been investigating her disappearance. Seeking answers, she returns to Angels Gate but never returns. Ryder seems gone for good this time, and the search is on as her friends try to solve the mystery of the mysterious monastery. Will they find Ryder, or will her friends meet the same strange fate?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press AU
• Release date: Dec 21, 2017
• ISBN: 9781504311441

Kerry Christine Vrossink

Kerry Christine Vrossink has been writing since high school. She lives in the small coastal town of Mandurah, Western Australia, with her husband and three sons. For Camerons Sake is her first book.

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Copyright © 2017 Kerry Christine Vrossink.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

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ISBN: 978-1-5043-1145-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5043-1144-1 (e)

Balboa Press rev. date: 11/14/2017

CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

PART TWO   ANGELS GATE

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

PART THREE   DREAMS

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

PART FOUR   DETECTIVE LEWIS

Chapter Seventeen

PART FIVE   MELANIE

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

PART SIX   SECRETS REVEALED

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

PART SEVEN   THE WELL

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Six

Chapter Twenty Seven

PROLOGUE

Melbourne 2006

T he young woman stepped from the tram she had ridden through the City. She had just finished an arduous interview with an unknown author of yet another ‘How to Cook for Beginners’ book being published. It had been quite boring (funny how they all seem to start with scrambled eggs), nothing special about this book, well not to her anyway, but she had no doubt it would most likely appeal to a lot of others, and there would be a lot of interest from the avid readers of her food column to warrant this assignment.

It was only a day trip and she had a little over an hour to kill before making her way back to the airport. A small café across the road caught her eye, just the place to get a strong espresso and review her notes while she waited.

She didn’t notice the tall man sitting in the back, olive complexion, dark curly hair and the largest, deepest brown eyes with eyelashes any woman would die for. But he most certainly noticed her. He watched as the petite blonde entered and took a table across from him. He had never seen such a stunning looking woman, she was absolutely intoxicating. Mid 20s he guessed, 5’0 – 5’4 in height, long hair cascading down her slender back like a waterfall, and with the suns reflection bringing back memories of a golden silk scarf his Mother used to wear over her own auburn curls.

Sliding his wedding ring from his finger and placing it carefully in his pocket, he stood and approached her, Excuse me; you look very familiar to me. Are you by any chance an actress or a model?

She raised her eyes from the notebook and unknowingly began tapping her pencil on the table; the corners of her painted mouth turned up slightly and her large blue eyes sparkled in amusement, Does that one work for you very often?

I’m sorry, what? he replied

That line. Does it work for you often?

He smiled exposing a perfect set of white teeth, No, not really. I suppose it is pretty transparent.

Ah ha, it most certainly is, not to mention not very original, she smiled back revealing her own set of pearly whites.

May I sit? he asked.

"Please yourself, but I must warn you, I’ve a plane to catch so I will be leaving shortly.

He pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down. Really, where are you off to?

Perth, but I’m not off, I’m heading back. I’ve been here for a few hours for work purposes. She didn’t wish to go into any details and decided she would be catching a taxi sooner than anticipated.

Oh no what a such a shame. I would’ve loved to offer my services at showing you around my wonderful City, he stated feigning disappointment.

I see, and what would your wife think about that?

Wife; What makes you assume I’m married? he asked perplexed.

Gees let’s see, she rubbed her chin pretending to think, Oh yes, the third finger of your left hand is slightly indented. Also you can remove the ring, but you can’t remove the tan line it leaves.

He looked down at the tell tale signs she had picked up on and laughed, Touché, you are very observant. My name is Max. He held out his hand which she accepted and they shook.

I’m Ryder. He certainly was charming and extremely handsome, but he was fully aware of his charismatic features and something told her he used his masculine magic a lot, and succeeded no doubt.

I see you’re not wearing a ring Ryder, does this mean you are available?

Actually, no I’m not. I have a partner in Perth, Dennis or Denny as he is more affectionately known. But, even if I was, you are not!

Ouch! They laughed and chattered on, he was surprisingly easy to talk to and before she knew it she had told him she lived in the coastal City of Mandurah with Denny; her best friend was his sister Angela, she worked at the local paper and her dream was to open a restaurant affordable to all, and write a cook book. By the time she realised she had just basically told this man, this complete stranger some of her most personal details, it was time for her to leave.

He appeared devastated, Can’t you stay another day. Melbourne at night comes alive, it is the most beautiful City in the world, well one of them anyway; I’ll take you to one of the finest restaurants and we can dance the night away until the sun comes up and then after breakfast I will show you some of our wonderful sights. Eh what do you say? And you could get some ideas for your own restaurant; ah say yes, please! You could tell Denny you missed your flight.

Why on earth would I want to do that? She was fully aware of his implications and she found it more insulting then flattering at the very thought he assumed she was easy prey.

Max reached across and held her hand, Because, Ryder, I know you like me and to be perfectly honest you are the most amazing woman I have ever met and I don’t want it to end here.

Freeing her hand from his grasp, she stood, Max, not to be rude, but I have met many men like you before and heard many pick up lines, some much better I might add, but you do not interest me, and I can’t be blunter than that. Now if you will excuse me I must find a taxi.

Ryder I’m crushed. Why do you assume I’m simply trying to pick you up? Is it so hard to believe I may genuinely want to get to know you better, and indulge in a more romantic relationship rather than a one night stand so to speak?

She laughed, Actually yes, considering you’ve known me for what, about fifteen minutes. Max, you are a player, anyone can see that, and I’m guessing you have used that exact phrase on many unsuspecting women before me and no doubt will use it on many more after. I feel for your wife, I really do. Goodbye.

He watched for a second as she walked out, then got up and chased after her, catching up just as she was about to cross the road, Ryder, please wait!

Halting, she sighed and turned towards him, What now?

He placed his large hands on her delicate shoulders, I’m sorry if you’ve misjudged my intentions. I admit you are right to a degree, I have cheated on my wife many times in fact, but you are different.

How so? she couldn’t resist asking even though she didn’t really care what the answer would be, she found his advances becoming rather amusing.

Have you ever heard the phrase ‘love at first sight? I’m afraid you have won my heart, and I’m willing to leave my wife if only you would stay. Once you get to know me better, you will realise just how sincere I am.

Ryder studied his face briefly; she could almost believe him, almost.

"Actually, I don’t believe in love at first sight, and to be honest I think you may be a little insane, however if I did believe you, have you ever heard the phrase ‘a leopard never changes his spots’? Max you are probably irresistible to many women I’m sure, and extremely charming, but, even if I did fall for all that baloney it would only be a matter of time before you would be pulling that crap on some other impressionable female, as I’m sure you must have done with your wife. Now please excuse me, I’m not interested in you in any shape or form, I have Denny whom I love with all my heart and have absolutely no intention of leaving him, and now I have to get to the airport!"

Well then at least let me drive you.

He was not giving up and she started to feel a little intimidated by this man. Fortunately at that moment a taxi approaching caught her eye and she hailed it down. No need, taxi’s here, thanks anyway. As she watched him disappear into the distance, she realised during their conversation she had done most of the talking, she knew nothing about him which technically shouldn’t worry her, however, what bothered her the most was the fact it did bother her.

CHAPTER ONE

I t has been said the only difference between sunset and sunrise is darkness, a time for reflecting, dreaming and imagining. Sitting here on the front veranda of her small 2 bedroom beach cottage she has done none of these. Instead she watches as the silhouette of the Banksia tree branches dance in rhythm with the soft night breeze until they could be defined no longer. She remains in the same place, laptop open where the screen remains blank, watching the same silhouette come into focus until they shine brightly with the morning sun.

Early morning joggers pass by; a slight of the hand indicates a wave and a turn of the lip a smile. How she envied them. She doesn’t know them by name, yet is sure they’ve had many disappointments, heartbreak and tragedy throughout their lives, and yet still at this very moment she envies them as they run seemingly carefree and full of joyful spirit. Beyond the joggers the waves roll in slowly teasing the brave morning swimmers who can be heard squealing with delight and surprise as the cold fingers of the swirl grab their feet and then engulf their torso. They are envied also.

A letter must be written, a letter that has been postponed for many weeks, but now is the time, it must be done as she has run out of all excuses for delaying it. A fairly simple letter really, just a few lines to inform a friend that our very best friend has died. It is a long story yet it must be told, and told correctly, worthy enough to be printed and distributed for anyone wishing to read it, and, that is where the problem lies. She knows what she wants to say, what’s needed to be said, but the words forming in her head become blurred before reaching the fingers waiting to type. So here she sits staring at the blank screen, watching branches dance between night and day, waving at joggers and envying swimmers, and has done for the last twelve hours.

Now it was time for some action. Standing she stretched her arms behind her head, went inside, poured a very strong coffee and picked up a tape recorder which had belonged to her Father; she smiled thinking of all the times he used it; a thing of the past but her Dad had been explicit when he said: This new fang dangled technology is beyond me, give me ‘simple’; simple things are easy; that’s why they’re called simple!! Then after inserting a new tape, returned to her position on the veranda and commenced recording the first thoughts that came to mind.

"The three of us, Mary Abbott, Ryder Burket and I, Angela Hill, the three musketeers, friends since year one, through University and as we once declared ‘beyond infinity.’’ Mary the tallest standing 5’10, and heaviest, with jet black hair and the palest blue eyes I’ve every seen. Her pale skin, blood red almost black lipstick and eye make-up brings the word ‘Goth’ to mind, but she swears blind she isn’t one and simply likes that combination (yeah right!). Ryder is the smallest most delicate, yet also with the hottest temper and at times acid tongue, but she is also the most generous and considerate of the three of us. I’m just the average brunette 5’7, average looks, average build, average everything actually. They say opposites attract and I have a tendency to believe this, since we’ve never had an argument in all the years we’ve been friends. But of course nothing stays the same and the day Mary told us she was moving to London to work in a publishing house our ‘trio’ became a ‘duo.’ We were shattered and yet ecstatic, after all it was her chance to make it, a dream come true, (did I mention she was also the most intelligent). A dream we all shared and Mary had done it, she was in.

We all wanted to become writers, and we wanted to become Olympic swimmers also, but that soon came to pass when we realised the prospect of becoming a published writer was a little more reachable than swimming since none of us were terribly good. Especially me, whose body after a few minutes of being emersed seemed to turn to lead, and I really think the other two gave it away more to keep me from being embarrassed.

After Mary left, Ryder and I left Perth and moved down to East Bouvard Mandurah in Western Australia. Once a small fishing town (pop. Around 6000) over fifty years ago, and now a lovely coastal City with a population of around 56,000 and rising, and we rented together the little cottage that I remain in today.

Ryder managed to get a job at the local paper writing all the latest gossip the City had to offer, but soon nudged her way into writing her own culinary column (titled Ryder’s Kitchen) which included recipes from readers sharing their family secrets, plus her own never ending inventions that seemed to blow everyone out of the water. She also did a lot of research on different cooking methods, fusion of all sorts of weird and wonderful flavours, and general knowledge on how different things are made from ice-cream to the wonderful wines of our very own Margaret River.

Ryder had it made, she had been able to get both of her loves of writing and cooking all rolled into one basket, yet that wasn’t enough for her, so she decided to increase her resume by creating an East meets West recipe book for beginners in the kitchen, busy professionals and people who just really can’t be bothered with a lot of ingredients and, I might mention; not one scrambled egg recipe in sight. This book unfortunately didn’t get finished, thereby never got published.

I was fortunate enough to get a part-time job as a waitress at the local tavern which is only a few minutes away, and in my spare time I wrote romance stories, submitting them without much success to several ‘Women’s Magazines’ until finally one day I entered a short story competition and actually won. Instantly my previous stories were in great demand and I landed myself a job writing regularly for one of the magazines. I doubt I’ll ever make Australia’s Richest Women list since I only manage to knock out a couple a month, but I’m doing alright.

My love life is rather stale, but Ryder hooked up with, of all men, my brother and they moved into their own home about four years ago, and it’s only literally around the corner from me, so we keep in constant touch with each other.

It was rather funny really, watching Dennis and Ryder pretend to ignore each other whenever he came over. My brother is an artist, a very good one at that. He gets a vision, sketches it then paints it and for the most part his paintings are a masterpiece, unfortunately he does seem to jump from wonderful to weird and it was during his ‘weird’ stage he met Ryder. Although technically that is incorrect since he’d known her since she was six, but being almost seven years our senior he was naturally hanging around with his mates when we were growing up. It was only after he’d had a massive argument with Dad regarding the pros and cons of ‘artist v army’ five years ago, he started coming down to spend the weekend to get out and away from Dad. However, since I worked most weekends this meant Ryder was left to entertain him, which at first she protested strongly about, but after a few months she stopped whinging and now I know why.

At first they tried to pretend nothing was going on by deliberately avoiding each other in my presence, which on its own is obvious, however, I know I maybe a little green but I’m definitely not a cabbage so I simply called a spade a spade and told them to grow up. Three months later they had bought their house and moved out. So to quote a phrase ‘here I am alone again, naturally.’

I stopped recording, my mind had gone blank, the last twenty three years had dissipated into thin air and I felt tears threatening to spill forth, which in all honesty came as a surprise since I thought I had no more tears left to cry. Sniffing them back, I placed the recorder on the table next to the laptop and pressed rewind, then play. All my thoughts, most of my childhood and adult life had been reduced to one recording, and listening to myself warble on, not only realised what I had been saying was not a letter but more of a testimonial of myself, and not a very good one at that, but that my entire life to date had been a nothing, it had led to nowhere, a joke, a ‘B’ grade movie, not even, a ‘C’ grade if such a thing actually exists.

Then snapping myself out of my self pity I sat before my screen, placed my fingers on the keyboard and began to type:

Dear Mary,

I write to you with a heavy heart. I’m afraid I have some very bad news and although I would like to ‘chatter’ of my achievements and all the general gossip since you left, I feel that is for another day. What I have to tell you is unbelievable to say the very least, but I assure you I have not gone loopy and everything is the truth, the absolute truth. First however, you must read my letter with an open mind, no matter how strange you may find it, always remember, everything is the true!

Have you ever wondered what happens after death? We have no memory of or before birth, but what of death? Does our soul move on to another place, another dimension of this world perhaps that is still connected with the living, or does it simply cease along with our physical body? Many believe this to be the case; however, I have seen and experienced too many unexplained phenomena to believe that, as will you by the end of my story, I’m sure.

What happens to us if we lie in a coma, in between consciousness and unconsciousness, life and death; is our soul lying in this infinite space or is it lying in wait somewhere for us to wake up? Some believe there is a place, a chasm somewhere in-between time where our souls wait to either be returned to our mortal frame or go on