Secrets in the Hollow E-Book

J.L. Jarvis

• Herausgeber: Bookbinder Press
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: Drake & Wilde
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 153

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

In Sleepy Hollow, history doesn't rest... and neither do its secrets.

Historian Iris Drake sought a quiet escape as a tour guide in the legendary town of Sleepy Hollow, expecting to share tales of headless horsemen and haunted bridges. But a chance encounter with the intriguing Professor Jackson Wilde thrusts her into a hidden world that could upend everything she knows about American history.

Together, they unravel cryptic messages left by the Founding Fathers, uncovering secret chambers and shadowy societies guarded by an elusive group called the Wardens. As Iris and Jackson delve deeper, each clue pulls them closer to a truth with the power to rewrite the nation's past—and jeopardize its future.

Their undeniable attraction complicates their mission. In a maze where allies turn into enemies, and myths become reality, trusting each other is their only hope for survival. But in Sleepy Hollow, where every legend has a kernel of truth, who can they really trust?

Dive into the thrilling journey through history, mystery, and romance today!

Leseprobe

In Sleepy Hollow, history doesn't rest... and neither do its secrets.

Historian Iris Drake sought a quiet escape as a tour guide in the legendary town of Sleepy Hollow, expecting to share tales of headless horsemen and haunted bridges. But a chance encounter with the intriguing Professor Jackson Wilde thrusts her into a hidden world that could upend everything she knows about American history.

Together, they unravel cryptic messages left by the Founding Fathers, uncovering secret chambers and shadowy societies guarded by an elusive group called the Wardens. As Iris and Jackson delve deeper, each clue pulls them closer to a truth with the power to rewrite the nation's past—and jeopardize its future.

Their undeniable attraction complicates their mission. In a maze where allies turn into enemies and myths become reality, trusting each other is their only hope for survival. But in Sleepy Hollow, where every legend has a kernel of truth, who can they really trust?

Dive into the thrilling journey through history, mystery, and romance today!

GET THE AUDIOBOOK

jljarvis.com/secrets

ALSO BY J.L. JARVIS

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(Reading Order)

1 Love in the Time of Pumpkins

2 Secrets in the Hollow

3 Shadow of the Horseman

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A Christmas Eve Stop

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Highland Passage

Knight Errant

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2 The Betrayal

3 The Return

4 The Wanderer

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For more information, visit jljarvis.com.

Get monthly book news at news.jljarvis.com.

SECRETS IN THE HOLLOW

A DRAKE & WILDE MYSTERY

BOOK 2

J.L. JARVIS

SECRETS IN THE HOLLOW

Copyright © 2024 by J.L. Jarvis

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published by Bookbinder Press

bookbinderpress.com

ISBN (ebook) 978-1-942767-66-4

ISBN (paperback) 978-1-942767-76-3

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Thank You!

The Drake & Wilde Mysteries

Book News

About the Author

CHAPTERONE

Iris Drake leaned against the cool windowpane, her breath fogging the glass. “Sfumato,” she murmured, recalling a painting technique that meant ‘to vanish like smoke.’ In the faint glow of dawn, fog rolled over the Hudson River and clung to the land as if guarding its secrets. Soon, the sun would wash over the picturesque landscape. The sight should have been calming, but anxiety gripped her stomach with each passing moment.

She absently reached for the small Ph.D. charm on her keychain, a habit she hadn’t shaken despite everything that had happened. The metal was cool against her skin, grounding her as memories of the past several days flooded back—the hidden messages in Washington Irving’s works, the secret chamber beneath the Old Dutch Church, and the shadowy Wardens of Liberty. So much had changed since she’d arrived in Sleepy Hollow, naïve to the secrets lurking beneath its quaint exterior.

A soft buzz from her phone broke the silence. A text from Jackson.

Meet me at the bridge. 20 minutes.

Iris’s heart raced, not just from the urgency of the message, but from the thought of seeing him again. Their relationship had evolved from skeptical colleagues to something undefined but electric.

As she hurried down the stairs and pushed the door open, a rush of crisp morning air nipped at her cheeks. Fallen leaves crunched beneath her boots as she made her way down the sidewalk. The town was just beginning to stir, but an eerie stillness hung in the air as if Sleepy Hollow itself was holding its breath.

Iris rounded the corner and quickened her pace. The Headless Horseman bridge loomed ahead, shrouded in tendrils of mist rising from the river. And there, leaning against it, was Jackson with his tousled hair, leather jacket, and athletic frame that made her heart sing.

He straightened as she approached, his hazel eyes sweeping over her with a mixture of concern and warmth.

“Iris,” he said, his voice rough from lack of sleep. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course,” Iris replied, stepping closer.

She could smell his familiar scent—leather and coffee—and fought the urge to close the distance between them and bury her face in his chest.

Jackson ran a hand through his hair, a gesture she’d come to recognize as a sign of agitation.

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” he admitted. “I kept thinking about that map, the letters, and the… incident at the church.”

Iris shivered, and not just from the cool air. The memory of their narrow escape from Dr. Grice’s betrayal was still fresh.

“I know. I was restless all night.”

Jackson’s expression was grave.

“I think I’ve cracked another part of the cipher. The Wardens of Liberty are not just some innocuous flash-in-the-pan secret society. They’re still active, and I think they’re here in Sleepy Hollow.”

With a shudder, she glanced around instinctively, suddenly aware of how exposed they were.

“Here?”

“Not here exactly, but close,” Jackson amended, lowering his voice. He leaned in closer, and Iris’s heart skipped a beat. “I found references to a meeting place somewhere in the woods north of town. We need to find it.”

Iris bit her lip, excited at the prospect of a discovery but afraid of the danger that came with it. “Jackson, after what happened at the church… is it safe?”

His eyes met hers, intense and unwavering.

“Probably not,” he admitted. “But we’re in this too deep to back out now. Whatever the Wardens are protecting, they know we’re looking for it. And the secrets they’re keeping could change everything we know about history. If they’re still active today, well, the possibilities are staggering.”

As if to underscore his words, a sudden gust of wind swept over the bridge, carrying with it the faint sound of hoofbeats. Iris and Jackson both tensed, their eyes darting to the far end of the bridge, where mist swirled ominously.

“What was that?” Iris whispered, her hand instinctively finding Jackson’s arm.

He nodded, his body coiled with tension. “It’s just the wind playing tricks with our ears,” he said, but his tone lacked conviction. After what they’d seen that night at the bridge—the impossible figure of the Headless Horseman charging through the mist—neither of them was quick to dismiss the strange occurrences in Sleepy Hollow.

As the sound faded, leaving only the gentle lapping of the river below, Jackson turned back to Iris. He covered her hand with his, then withdrew it in a gesture so tender it made her heart ache.

“I’m sorry I’ve put you in danger,” he said softly. “I wish we could just walk away and pretend we never found any of it.”

Iris leaned closer. “Could you really do that? Forget everything we’ve discovered?”

A wry smile tugged at Jackson’s lips. “No,” he admitted. “No more than you could.”

Their eyes locked, and at that moment, Iris felt the full weight of their shared journey—the dangers they’d faced, the mysteries they’d unraveled, and the bond they’d formed. She could have kissed him right then, but his gaze broke away. When he looked back, he echoed a pact they’d made days before.

“So, still partners?”

Iris nodded, a smile breaking through despite the gravity of their situation. “Still partners,” she affirmed.

As they left the bridge fading into the fog, Iris knew that whatever secrets Sleepy Hollow held, they would be there for each other, no matter how their world had been thrown off balance.

* * *

The streets of Sleepy Hollow were still mostly empty as they walked to a small cafe on the corner. Neither of them spoke as they waited in line, recent events hanging between them.

Jackson handed her a cup of steaming coffee, and his fingers brushed hers. The small gesture sent a flicker of warmth through her, though it did little to settle her anxiety.

“I couldn’t sleep last night either,” Iris admitted as they settled at a small table near the window. “I kept mulling over the same things as you—the items we found and the… Horseman.”

She barely whispered the last word, as if saying it out loud might somehow make it more real.

Jackson leaned back in his chair, studying her with those intense hazel eyes of his. He’d said little about the Horseman since that night—since they’d barely escaped whoever had been chasing them. Iris had hoped to find reassurance in his usual skepticism, but Jackson seemed as rattled as she was.

“It’s a lot to take in,” Jackson said quietly, finally breaking the silence. He took a long sip of his coffee, his gaze focused on the street outside. “There’s so much going on here—and it’s not just folklore.”

Iris leaned in closer, her pulse quickening. “And it all seems to connect to the Wardens of Liberty.”

“Absolutely,” Jackson said, his voice firm. “There’s a pattern in Washington’s letters, and the more we decode, the more it points to something hidden here in Sleepy Hollow. I’m convinced it’s not just some long-lost treasure or relic destined for a museum. It’s… more dangerous.”

The mention of danger made Iris’s stomach sink. She had always known history could be powerful, but this was darker.

Before she could respond, Jackson reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. He spread it across the table, revealing the rough sketch of a map they’d uncovered in the old Bible, its corners worn and faded with time.

“This,” Jackson said, tapping the center of the map, “is our next step. There’s something hidden at this location, something Washington didn’t want to fall into the wrong hands.”

Iris studied the map closely, her heart racing. “It looks like a burial site… near the Old Dutch Church.”

Jackson nodded. “I’ve been combing through local records. There’s a legend about an underground chamber near that spot. Some say it was used during the Revolutionary War for secret meetings. Others believe it was a storehouse for Revolutionary War supplies, most likely munitions, or maybe gold.”

Iris swallowed hard. “And you think that’s where the Wardens hid… whatever it is we’re looking for?”

“That’s my theory,” Jackson said, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

Iris couldn’t believe it. “Buried treasure?”

Jackson lifted his shoulders. “Could be. Ordinarily, that would be my last guess, but we’re not the only ones interested, so it does make me wonder. Whatever it is, Grice is still out there searching, too. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s watching our every move. I can practically feel it.”

The mention of Dr. Arthur Grice sent a chill through Iris. The man had always seemed… unsettling. Cold. Calculating. And after everything that had happened—after he’d threatened them with a gun—there was no telling how far he would go to protect whatever secrets the Wardens were hiding.

“So, what do we do now?” Iris asked, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside her. “We can’t just saunter over there with pickaxes and shovels slung over our shoulders.”

“No.” Jackson leaned forward, his gaze locking with hers. “We have to be careful. If Grice is involved with the Wardens, we can’t let him know we’re onto him. We move quietly, gather as much information as we can, and wait for an opportune moment.”

Iris nodded, a sense of determination rising within her. This wasn’t just historical research anymore. It had become all too real. If the Wardens of Liberty were intent on erasing the truth, she and Jackson had to find it first.

* * *

Iris was organizing a new display of colonial-era artifacts when Margaret Verplanck, the director of the Heritage Center, appeared in the doorway. Margaret was an imposing figure despite her petite frame, with silver-streaked chestnut hair neatly pinned back and sharp green eyes that rarely missed a detail. Dressed in a tailored, moss-green jacket typical of her wardrobe that always seemed fitting for both academic meetings and the Center’s events, Margaret carried herself with the confident authority of someone who had long served as the gatekeeper of Sleepy Hollow’s rich heritage.

Today, however, her usually cheerful demeanor seemed slightly off, and a hint of concern creased her brow.

“Iris, do you have a moment?” Margaret asked, gesturing toward her office, her voice steady but lacking its usual warmth.

“Of course,” Iris replied, setting down the delicate porcelain teacup she’d been arranging. She followed Margaret, curiosity piqued by her boss’s unusual mood.

As they walked, Iris was aware as ever of Margaret’s imposing presence. The Verplanck name was as old as Sleepy Hollow itself, tied to the very foundations of the Hudson Valley. Margaret had always carried that legacy with grace, her knowledge of the area’s history matched only by her dedication to preserving it. With her sharp mind and a deep sense of duty, Margaret was a mentor for Iris, a master of choosing and balancing research projects and garnering support from donors and the community. But today, that usual steadying influence seemed to be faltering.

Once inside the office, Margaret closed the door behind her and took a deep breath, the faint scent of her lavender hand cream wafting through the air. Her neatly organized desk was now cluttered with papers, a rare departure from her typically pristine workspace.

“I’m not quite sure how to say this,” Margaret began, her voice soft but tinged with unease, “but Dr. Grice has… left us. Rather abruptly, I’m afraid.”

Iris blinked in surprise. “Left? You mean he resigned?”

Margaret nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. “He sent an email late last night. No explanation, no forwarding address. It’s all very strange.” Her fingers drummed lightly on the surface of her desk, a rare display of nerves. “To be honest, Iris, I’m relieved he’s gone. There was always something... off about Arthur. He’d become increasingly secretive, almost paranoid. I caught him in the archives after hours more than once, rifling through documents he had no business accessing.”

She leaned in, lowering her voice. “Just last week, we had a rather heated argument about some of the more... sensitive items in our collection. He was pushing for access to materials that have been restricted for decades. When I refused, well…” Margaret trailed off, a shadow crossing her face. “Let’s just say his reaction was inappropriate. I was considering reporting him to the board before he suddenly resigned.”

Iris frowned, processing this new information. “Do you think he took anything?”

Margaret sighed, worry lines creasing her forehead. “I’m not sure. We’re still conducting an inventory. But if he did… well, some of those documents in the wrong hands could be dangerous. They’re not just historical curiosities, Iris. They’re keys to secrets some people would… go to great lengths to protect—or expose.”

A mix of emotions flowed through Iris—relief, confusion, and, most of all, suspicion. Dr. Grice had always been an enigma, so his leaving actually didn’t surprise her. Although he must have guessed she and Jackson would not have reported him to the police, given the secrecy of their research into the Wardens. So he wasn’t in any danger of exposure to them. But they couldn’t have all gone back to work as though nothing had happened. After all, the gun threat crossed over that line.

So good riddance, Dr. Grice.

“That is odd,” Iris agreed, trying to keep her voice neutral. “What does this mean for the Center?”

Margaret’s expression brightened, her shoulders relaxing a fraction. “Well, that’s the other thing I wanted to discuss with you. Remember Professor Wilde, whom you assisted with some research?”

Iris’s heart swelled at the mention of Jackson. “Yes, of course.”

“Well, given how well you two worked together on that project, I’ve asked him to come on as a part-time consultant. He’ll keep his position at Columbia, of course. We don’t have that kind of budget. But he’s agreed to work here a few hours a week on some of our more specialized projects.”

As if on cue, a familiar figure appeared in the doorway.

“Speak of the devil,” Margaret said with a smile.

Jackson Wilde leaned against the doorframe, a slight smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said, his eyes meeting Iris’s with a warmth that made her cheeks flush.

“Not at all,” Margaret replied. “In fact, I was just about to tell Iris about your first project together.”

Iris raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh?”

Margaret reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a clear archival sleeve containing what looked like a weathered piece of parchment. “We’ve just acquired this fascinating document at an estate sale in the area. It appears to be related to Washington Irving, but we need to verify its authenticity and significance.”

Jackson stepped fully into the office, his expression shifting from playful to intrigued. “What kind of document are we talking about?”

“It appears to be a letter, possibly written by Irving himself,” Margaret explained. “But there are… inconsistencies that need to be examined. Given your previous work together on Irving-related matters, I thought you two would be perfect for this.”

As Margaret handed the document to her, a jolt of excitement ran through Iris. This was precisely the kind of research she lived for.

“We’ll get right on it,” Iris said, her eyes meeting Jackson’s. The spark between them was undeniable, a mixture of intellectual curiosity and a deeper connection she wasn’t ready to define.