Little Ugly Truths (Lachlan Park #1)

Chapter 1

ONE | KATE

If you asked me a year ago what I thought my life would look like, I wouldn’t have guessed I’d be saying, “Please keep your hands, arms, legs, and feet inside the ride at all times,” to a young teenage couple already lip-locked and tongue-heavy in a ride cart.

It may be protocol to relay the information for safety purposes, but to them, and most people who stand in that line, I’m invisible. Which is ironic considering that’s precisely what I’m going for. However, their blatant neglect of me doesn’t make me feel any better either.

This reality is far from the life I envisioned. The life I worked for. But I only have myself to blame for ending up here, working at a goddamn amusement park on the coast of Maine.

It's less than ideal, but it's safe.

Secluded.

Under the radar.

It may be one of those small tourist towns that lure in families for a quiet vacation every summer, but it's the first place I landed where I didn’t feel like the air was tangling around my neck like a noose.

Maybe I had run far enough to snap the tether that had me in a constant state of paranoia despite the distance I created.

All the other places I stopped before Lachlan Harbor—and there were many—I cautiously scanned and analyzed my surroundings.

Examined every person’s face and frame. Inspected the shadows.

Peered over my shoulder for any evidence of the parasite that had somehow embedded a piece of itself in my bones, paralyzing me from the inside out with a fear I’ve never been able to escape.

The fear may be muted now to a dull, distant hum that stirs more in my dreams, but it doesn’t entirely dissipate the feeling that eyes are following my every move.

It’s my imagination. It has to be.

That, or I’ve been doing this so long that I’m starting to have a psychotic break.

As I said, I never thought I’d end up working at a place like this, and maybe that’s part of my problem.

Lachlan Park sits at the edge of town, tucked into the forest’s edge and along the rocky shoreline.

It’s a short walk to the harbor where commercial fishing boats bring their shipments in and out.

The air is always bursting with the scent of fried food, yet it carries a familiar tang of sweat that clings to your nose.

Then, the briny sea air off the coastal waters, which stretches out for miles, stirs the potent combination into a uniquely unforgettable scent that somehow permeates all of Lachlan Harbor, as if the park is its very essence.

For now, it's my haven.

A loud pop splits through my daze, making me jolt. I turn around to see Nicole, my coworker, chewing on her gum obnoxiously like she always does this time of day. It’s a sign she’s bored. Somehow, I hold my eyes back from rolling like they want to.

Her head slants slightly in deliberation, her features pulled together in that way that tells me she’s scheming.

“Hey, Kate. I bet you ten bucks that they’ll keep making out when they hit the backward track.

” Nicole blows another pink bubble, sinking her teeth into it before she follows it up with a wicked smile.

“Or should we make it fifteen?” Her focus drops from me to the camera footage of the ride, displayed on the monitors in front of her.

Now my eyes roll.

That’s an hour of my pay. No, thank you.

I’m not in a position to be throwing away money like that when I can barely afford my studio. I shouldn’t entertain her. However, I have a keen talent for reading people and have been working here long enough to understand the behaviors of our guests.

I really shouldn’t…

Yet, I have a high probability of walking out fifteen dollars richer.

And when I say working here long enough, I mean four months.

Which may not seem like a lot, but to me it is.

I watch the track carry the young couple’s mine cart into the cave entrance. The dark tunnel swallows them whole, taking them to the belly of the ride.

I contemplate for a second before giving in. “Let’s make it fifteen, and cleanup duty. Because I bet you that in the next five minutes, one of them is going to get motion sickness.”

Nicole narrows her eyes, regarding me. It only takes a moment before she excitedly claps her hands together.

“You’re on. I had my fair share of make-out sessions back in the day.

I would come here on dates whenever I could get away from my parents.

So, I should know that they are bound to keep this up the entire ride. ”

Back in the day? It was more like a few weeks ago, since she literally just turned eighteen.

I swallow the groan wanting to escape my chest.

Yep, this is my life now. A twenty-four-year-old runaway who traded a full-time nursing job with a steady paycheck, benefits, and a 401(k) for a position working the haunted mine ride at an amusement park that has been here since the 1930s.

Of course, it’s been updated with new rides, booths, and restaurants since then, but there are some stains and scars from the past that years can’t erase.

So, for now, I’ll remind myself that working this minimum wage job with a bunch of teenagers is less painful than the hell I endured before I was shaken out of the poisonous fog that kept me submissive and voiceless for far too long.

I guess I can’t forget about Vincent, the mid-to-late sixties cleaner whose tattoos and permanent scowl are older than any of us.

Not that I’ve carried on any conversations with the man or watched him clean, for that matter.

There’s an aura about him that chills my skin and keeps me on high alert when he’s nearby.

I know it's rude, but I usually rush away when I see him. However, our paths often cross, especially after my evening shifts when he’s starting his.

Sure, there are all the other employees at Lachlan Park, but this is the job they hired me for.

I should be friendly, but I don’t enjoy spending more time here than is absolutely necessary.

To further my case, that would mean wandering around to all the other booths and rides, or engaging in small talk after staff meetings.

Plus, this place could be temporary, and making friends seems pointless.

I’m not foolish enough to hope that this could eventually be my home.

As long as I’m running, nowhere is.

At least not in the way the Pacific Northwest was.

I traded one coast for another, hoping that it might feel similar, though it’s a whole country away.

Lachlan Harbor is approximately an hour’s drive from Portland, Maine, which is why it is a popular summer destination for Maine residents who want to escape without being too far from home.

For being a place where tourists flood, it still feels quaint and quiet, giving you enough space to breathe and not feel like a sardine jammed in a tin can.

I lived in Portland, Oregon, before, but I'm starting to realize that even though it lacks the rugged mountains and babbling creeks of the West Coast, I might be turning into a small-town girl—and not just because it means fewer people to train my eye on and observe, like everyone is out to hurt me.

There was just something about it when I stepped off the bus.

A comfort in the air settled in my lungs, giving me my first real breath, along with clarity that had eluded me everywhere else.

It felt like the ideal place to barely penetrate the ground with some roots and plant myself in a place that appears off the map.

Nicole slaps a hand over her mouth, bursting into a fit of giggles. “The headless miner just popped out. It scared him so bad that he could’ve bitten her tongue off!”

Spinning around, I ignore her, helping a mom and her young daughter onto an empty cart that slows beside the loading platform.

The mom gives me a kind, thankful smile that has warmth circulating through my veins, despite the cave-like interior.

Imitation stone walls enclose the space, stalactites and stalagmites lifting from the floor and dropping from the ceiling to enhance the illusion.

Whoever created this place went to great lengths to marble an opaque, gold-looking substance into the rock, using lights behind to make it appear as if it were shining.

The soft, themed music accompanies the soothing crackle of water trickling down into a pool of water on the other side of the track from the loading area.

I used to love the musty smell of damp earth, but now I’ve grown so accustomed to it that it no longer hits me as strongly as it once did.

The excitement is palpable in her tone as she watches the security footage. “Oooh, we’re coming up on the backwards track.”

This part of the ride is a guest favorite. It’s where the surround sound and projection on the rock wall make it look like there's a cave in. Then the cart shoots backward to give more thrill to the experience.

I give the mom and daughter the same spiel as always and send them on their way, right before Nicole curses under her breath behind me from the control panel.

My smile is instant. I’m fifteen dollars richer and have one less mess to clean today.

Nicole makes her annoyance with me clear as day when she groans so loudly that it nearly echoes off the faux cavernous walls.

And since the line is all caught up for now, I walk over to her. “Who was it?”

“It was her—she threw up over the side. Dammit!” She anxiously pulls her fingers through her long, bleached blonde hair. “How did you know she was going to do that?”

Maybe it’s because I'm an eavesdropper and overheard her telling her boyfriend while they were waiting in line that she felt nauseous after the rollercoaster.

The brief time I studied her, I noticed her pale features and the way she had her arms wrapped around her stomach before I loaded them into their cart.

Motion blended with distraction never bodes well for most people, especially when the queasiness is already stirring below the surface.

Being perceptive has its perks.

I wish I could have learned to sharpen my awareness in a different way, rather than from a man who trained my ears as much as my body.

But I don’t tell her how I knew she would get sick on the ride. Instead, I shrug and mutter, “Just a lucky guess.”

Now that I’m right, it means I don’t have to stay an extra twenty minutes and clean up the mess. And as if my replacement heard me talking about him, Jeremy waltzes out of the employee area and joins us to take over the next part of the shift.

He stops beside Nicole, peering at her face with an inquisitive expression twisting his mouth. “What’s your problem?”

Her side-eye glower could burn him alive.

It’s so terrifying that I contemplate stepping back.

She pushes herself out of the chair to a standing position, smoothing out the dark gray overalls dusted with permanent dirt stains.

We are required to wear them as part of our uniform to “sell” the ride more effectively. “I’ve got a mess to go clean up.”

“You lost a bet again?” he snickers, looking a little too amused. The three of us partner on shifts the most, so he knows how much Nicole enjoys making our workdays a little more interesting.

Most of the time, it backfires—on her.

She slaps his bicep. “Shut up.” Her weighted sigh has me suppressing my grin. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

His mouth quirks. “Don’t let the ghosts get you.”

I blow out a breath, containing a hint of a chuckle. “You guys are ridiculous. Those ghosts aren’t even that scary.” Unless you’re terrified of plastic mechanical mannequins lit up with a projector.

Jeremy’s brows draw together, but there’s mischief hidden between the creases and flickering in his eyes. “I’m not talking about those.”

I tuck a loose strand of dark blonde hair behind my ear, folding my arms over my chest. “Ha. Ha. Nice try. You forget that I’m older than you and less gullible.”

Jeremy and Nicole hold my gaze, both with smiles on their faces that should be playful but seem eerie under the circumstances.

Jeremy’s manic laugh sends chills down my spine. “You don’t know the real story about Lachlan Park, do you?”