Chapter 6
Jared
Ireally don’t want to sleep in my car tonight.
For a start, it’s not large enough for my tall frame to stretch out in comfortably, especially not with all of my belongings crammed into the boot and back seat.
Whatever wouldn’t fit into the car I sold or donated in the week since getting the job in Crystal Lake.
Once I found out the job was in the very place I’m trying to investigate, I was even more eager to leave London for small town life.
Luckily my old flat came furnished, and once all of that was taken out of the equation, I realised I had a pitiful amount of stuff.
After boxing up my clothes and books, it didn’t take long at all to pack up the rest of my belongings.
Aside from the obvious longing for a comfortable bed, the other reason I don’t want to be stuck camping out in my car tonight is the weather.
What started out as a cool autumn day has quickly become a bloody chilly night out here in the middle of nowhere now the sun has set.
I’m dressed warmly, but I’ve still been grateful for the sedan’s heating these past few hours.
Just as I’m about to abandon hope, I see a faint glow in the distance. Please let this be it. I creep down the uneven country lane towards the light, my shoulders lowering from around my ears when a familiar sign comes into view, illuminated by a lone lamppost.
Welcome to Crystal Lake. Population 16,829.
Make that 16,830 now I’ve finally arrived.
A tingling sensation runs over me as I forge onward past the welcome sign with renewed enthusiasm now I know I’m going the right way.
I shake out my hands one at a time. Must be static electricity.
When the bumpy road eventually transitions to smooth tarmac with a few lampposts dotted along either side, there’s no holding back the grin I feel taking over my face.
The first signs of civilisation I’ve encountered for some time are a welcome sight.
Soon enough, I pass by houses that gradually get closer together the further into town I go.
A few minutes later, I’m on what has to be the main road through town.
Quaint shops with quirky names line the street, bathed in the soft glow of old-fashioned lampposts.
So far the town is living up to the picture Garrett painted, and the part of me that loves sniffing out a story buzzes with anticipation.
But there would be time to explore tomorrow.
Tonight, I needed to find my new home and get some sleep.
Ever helpful, Kendra, my new boss, put me in touch with the local real estate agent as soon as I accepted her job offer.
The chipper guy who introduced himself as Guppy—that has to be a nickname—is one of the most efficient people I’ve ever come across, and an hour after our phone call he emailed me photos of the place he found for me and a map of the town with my new home helpfully circled.
After consulting the town map, I navigate my way to the two bedroom house that will be mine for the duration of my stay in Crystal Lake.
When I pull onto the driveway, I’m both impressed and relieved to see the place looks as nice as the photos.
Renting somewhere sight unseen was a risk, but unless I wanted to be stuck in a hotel room tripping over my boxes of stuff until I could find a place myself, it was the only option.
At least the gamble seems to have paid off this time.
Just like the letting agent promised, the keys really are under the mat.
Picking them up, I shake my head in disbelief at the lack of concern over security.
It’s going to take me a minute to adjust to the trusting nature of small town life, but hopefully I’ll be able to use it to my advantage once I start digging into whatever is really going on here.
As far as the town is concerned, I’ve moved to Crystal Lake to join the local newspaper’s small team, replacing a guy who’s just retired.
Technically, it’s the truth. I don’t know much about small towns, but even I know their residents aren’t usually too keen on outsiders, especially not ones from a big city.
If I’d arrived here as a tourist, it’s likely I would never get the locals to trust me enough to reveal the big secret.
Assuming there is one. There’s every chance I may have moved up here for nothing, but Garrett acting so shifty when I questioned him about this place, and my gut feeling, tell me there’s something strange happening here.
And if I’m wrong at least I’ll be able to reconnect with an old friend and enjoy a break from the endless hustle of London life.
The locals will probably still need time to warm up to me, but moving to town instead of visiting should ease the way a little.
Plus, my new job role offers the perfect excuse to ask plenty of questions without raising suspicion.
Keen to get out of the cold and see the inside of the house, I unlock the door and step over the threshold.
Using the torch on my phone, I scan the wall for a light switch and flip it on, bathing the small entrance hall in warm yellow light.
Immediately I notice the row of hooks mounted on the wall opposite the door and the shoe rack underneath.
It’s then I realise I’m standing on a welcome mat with a picture of a howling wolf and text underneath that reads ‘Welcome to my den’.
I snort. The previous tenant must have left that behind.
Confident nobody is going to try breaking into my car, something I’d been very concerned about during the multiple trips to and from my flat while packing it up this morning, I decide to walk through the house.
Familiarising myself with the layout before bringing my boxes in is the smart move, plus I know I won’t be able to relax until I’ve confirmed the house is empty.
Healthy? Probably not, but it’s the only way I’ll get any sleep tonight.
After a quick but thorough exploration of the house I’m equally pleased with the modern yet cosy interior as I was with the outside.
The downstairs is open-plan, with large windows to make the most of what I expect will be a lovely view in the daylight.
Given the late hour, I won’t unpack anything but my suitcase tonight.
Still, I’d rather leave the boxes in the correct room now so they’re ready for me when I begin the task tomorrow morning.
Thanks to the built-in bookshelves in the living area, I’m able to leave most of my boxes downstairs—I might not have a lot of stuff, but I do have a fairly large collection of books even after donating several volumes before leaving London.
Returning from my final trip out to the car, my jaw clicks with the force of the yawn that overtakes my body as I lock the door behind me.
Time for bed. Wearily, I lug my suitcase full of everything I need to see me through tonight and tomorrow morning upstairs and into the main bedroom.
After tearing the plastic off the new mattress that’s waiting for me, I wrestle out the duvet and pillows from the box I left up here earlier and make the bed.
It’s a real effort to resist the urge to climb under the covers immediately, but after driving for hours and hefting around all those boxes I’m in need of a shower.
First I check all the doors and windows are locked—something I never felt compelled to do more than once before my encounter with The Raven.
When a jiggle of the front door handle assures me it’s firmly secured, I head back upstairs ready to shower and settle in for the night.
Hopefully the sounds of the unfamiliar house won’t keep me awake.
I need to be well-rested in order to tackle everything on my to-do list before starting my new job on Monday.
Kendra wanted to give me a week to settle in before I started at The Chronicle, but I told her that wouldn’t be necessary.
I’ve already had too much free time alone with my thoughts since Corbin forced me out of The Ledger.
I’m more than ready to get back to work and the distraction it provides.
With shower-damp hair, I pad back into the bedroom, relieved to have traded my jeans for comfortable flannel pyjama trousers.
Once my phone’s plugged in to charge I turn off the light and lie on my back staring up at the ceiling.
Was Corbin right? What if accepting a job here really was a mistake?
It’s possible there is no big secret, and there’s no guarantee Garrett still lives here.
It’s been years—he might have moved on. For the first time since accepting the job at The Chronicle doubt weighs on me.
Rolling onto my side as if I can turn my back on my problems I clutch the duvet tightly against my chest. No.
My gut hasn’t led me astray before. I need to give it time.
Even if there’s no mystery and no Garrett, there’s also no Raven.
Crystal Lake could be my chance at a fresh start if I’m brave enough to take it.
I wake up bright and early after sleeping surprisingly well—the drive must have worn me out more than I thought.
Glad I thought to pack coffee and a couple of cereal bars in my suitcase I enjoy a quick breakfast at the kitchen island before throwing on jeans and a t-shirt, ready to get to work.
By the time my stomach growls around noon I’ve got everything unpacked and, surrounded by my belongings, the house feels a little more like mine.
I don’t have anything in for lunch and I’ll need to get food for the coming week anyway, so a trip to the shops is necessary.
After looking at the map of the town, I figure out most of the businesses seem to be in the town square and it’s surrounding streets.
Donning my chocolate-brown leather jacket, I step outside.
If I can find my own way to the town square hopefully someone will point me in the direction of some kind of supermarket.
The sky is a clear blue dotted with fluffy white clouds, and I find myself walking a little slower so I can really absorb my new surroundings.
Not having to rush everywhere will take some getting used to, but the leisurely stroll to the town square is the perfect introduction to Crystal Lake.
A group of about ten people traipses past me, and I do a double-take.
Wow, the LARPing community here is no joke.
I marvel in fascination at how realistic their wings and horns look.
It’s not my thing, but I can appreciate the craftsmanship that must have gone into their accessories.
The leathery wings on one guy’s back even have some kind of motor in them to make them flutter.
When I reach the square, it quickly becomes clear that the businesses lining it are mostly bars, coffee shops, and restaurants—no sign of a corner shop or anything close.
“Excuse me,” I say, and the curvy woman with seaweed-green hair and a hoop through one of her matching green eyebrows walking by pauses next to me.
“I’m new in town. Would you mind telling me where the supermarket is? ”
“Sure,” she answers brightly. “Did you get a town map?”
“Uh, yeah.” I fish the map out of my back pocket and unfold it. She pulls a glittery pen from her handbag, uncapping it with her teeth, moving her hand in a ‘gimmie’ gesture. I pass her the map and she marks a couple of nearby places with a small silver star.
“Here.” She shows me the map, using the pen as a pointer.
“This is the supermarket. You’ll find most things you need in there.
If you want fresh bread or other baked goods, go to Sweet Dreams bakery—they’re the best.” She looks me up and down.
“You don’t read like you need anything specialised. Do you?”
Not sure what that’s meant to mean. How can someone look like they have food allergies? “No, I can eat whatever.”
“Cool.” Her shoulders bob, then she passes the map back to me. “Here you go. Welcome to Crystal Lake…”
“Jared,” I say, holding out my hand.
“Raine.” She gives my hand a quick shake. “Are you the new reporter?”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
She chuckles. “Small town. Get used to people knowing who you are.”
OK then. I thank her again, then head in the direction of the supermarket marked on my map.
I can’t believe the first person I came across actually helped me.
It seems that what they say about people in small towns being friendly is true.
So far, my new life is off to a pretty strong start.
Corbin was wrong about my moving here being a mistake.
This little town, where people leave keys under mats and know their neighbours, is exactly what I need right now.