Sketch E-Book

Didi Oviatt

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

When local girl Misty is found dead in an underground bunker, the town is thrown into a whirlwind of panic and speculation. Times are tough, but the spaced-out farmer community pulls together as one, trying to uncover who's guilty.

Thrown smack in the middle of the chaos is a group of teens: local troublemakers, but with good hearts. Although they're innocent, the local law enforcers believe otherwise, and the true killer is lurking far too close for comfort.

Will the four be able to uncover the truth before one of them pays the price for Misty's death?

Leseprobe

SKETCH

A YOUNG ADULT PSYCHOLOGICAL THRILLER

DIDI OVIATT

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

About the Book

You may also like

About the Author

Copyright (C) 2019 Didi Oviatt

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2022 by Next Chapter

Published 2022 by Next Chapter

Edited by Marilyn Wagner

Cover art by Cover Mint

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

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

CHAPTERONE

Michael wakes to the sound of drumming fingers on the wooden table next to his uncomfortable bunk. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and looks up to see his older brother John's face an inch from his, wide-eyed and impatient. John is one year older than Michael to the day. They both have shaggy black hair, a few freckles, and big green eyes. The only difference in appearance is that John is a few inches shorter, not nearly as muscular, and the gap between his front teeth is very noticeably larger. You’d never tell that Michael’s the younger of the two. He’s bigger, tougher, and meaner in every way. They’re as close as twins, and look the part.

They share a cramped bedroom in a wooden shack of a home, in the middle of nowhere. Their sleepy farming town in central Montana isn’t even big enough to make it on a map… any map. Being deep into a depression, there’s no money to spare to fix the leaky roof, or busted windows. The walls are cracked, and floors are creaky.

"Michael, get your lazy butt out of bed."

Michael peaks out of the corner of his sleepy eyes, trying to process wakefulness. John has been sitting up next to him for a half an hour. He’s been waiting for Michael to bounce to life, not daring to actually shake him awake, or yell. The last time John tried that, he got a fist to the face and had a black eye for a week. So instead, he’s been sitting as close as he can get without actually touching his loudly snoring brother, just waiting.

"Jeez, it took you long enough. I’ve been waiting for hours." John lies.

Michael and John have been waiting on this day for over a month. Their best friend Steven spends the summer with his dad every year. Now that they’re 16 and 17, practically all grown up, this will be the last summer they’ll be able to spend with Steven for who knows how long. Times have been tough, and nothing seems to be lining up for improvement in the foreseeable future. The odds of Steven ever coming back to this place after the summer is slim.

Steven’s father is one of the lucky men in the area who has been able to keep a job. He’s a cashier at the one and only grocery/convenience store for miles. They sell everything from guns, to gas, to bread. It’s a small store, but it has every essential any passer-through may need for survival.

Not many people in town have the money for food. For the most part, they poach small game, and find their own way of living. But the area does seem to get a lot of drifters. There’s a small room that’s rented out in the back of the store. Steven’s father has been the keeper of the place since the boys can remember.

Michael slowly sits up, stretching his arms as far as they can go in the lack of space their bedroom allows.

"Hold your horses, John. God, you can be such a butt-hole sometimes."

Michael doesn’t handle being woken up very well. He isn’t a morning person, and his short temper is at an all-time high within the first hour that he rolls to his feet. There’s been a mean streak in Michael’s blood since he was knee high to his mommy, pulling on her apron for attention. He’s been known as the fighter of his class every year since the first year he went to school. Resorting to fists has been his favorite thing to do since he can remember. Over the years, he’s progressed into quite the scrappy teen.

Michael has learned to save his fighting for after school, so that there are no teachers around to get him in trouble. The Hounds boys work odd jobs on local farms and gardening at home, but they spend most of their time hunting. They sell or trade the firs from their kills for anything that can be used to take care of themselves and their sick mom.

Not having a father at home made them learn to take care of themselves and at young age. It’s also made their mom very good at finding strange but effective punishments when either of them got into trouble growing up.

"Well, you boys are too big for a small woman like me to be whoopin’ ya, so I guess I’ll have to find some other way to teach you a lesson."

She’d say this before taking them door to door, asking everyone they came in contact with if the boys could scrub their floors and wash their windows. It’s always been disgusting and humiliating enough to teach the boys a lesson. Mrs. Hounds is by no means a weak woman. She’s been raising Michael and John by herself since they were babies. Their father took off without a word. No explanation or excuses, he just up and left.

"That man was no good anyway, we’re all better off without him."

It’s all their mother had said on the matter. Now that she’s sick, they have little to no time for fights or playing around.

In no time at all, Michael and John have their shoes and hats on. Their lunches are packed, and they’re out the door. It’s a long walk to Steven's house. They only have one peddle bike between the two of them, so they opt to leave it behind. Some people call it the boonies, some call it redneck hills, and some the Sticks. To the Hounds and the other twenty or so families that live in this spaced-out little farming community, it’s home. It’s an adventurous place with lots to explore and get into.

Mrs. Hounds was gone most of the time while the boys were growing up. She worked long hours as a nurse at the little clinic at the edge of town. She decided they were old enough at 11 and 12 to get through the summers without a babysitter, given they would check in at the neighbors at least once a day. It was a hard decision for her, but she really couldn't afford to pay for childcare. Especially with the price of heat and food, they struggled enough as it was.

So, at only 11 and 12, Michael and John had the freedom that most kids their age only dreamed of. They caused a lot of trouble and learned to take care of themselves. It paid off in the long run, as now they’re not only taking care of themselves, but their mother too.

"We have to stop and see if Chloe changed her mind," says Michael.

Chloe lives a half a mile in the opposite direction from Steven’s house. Obviously, John isn’t happy about the idea.

"Hell no! We’re not going to get your stupid girlfriend. She doesn’t even like Steven and she already said ‘there was no way in hell she was walking half a day to meet up with some dumb kid with a big mouth,’ remember?"

John actually likes Chloe, and he knows how mad Michael gets when he labels her with the girlfriend title. Right now, he doesn’t care.

"Well, you do whatever you want, but I’m going to get her."

Michael doesn’t do much without Chloe. He takes off toward her house, knowing that John won’t argue with him much further. Being the younger of the two doesn't stop Michael from getting his point across by any means. John rolls his eyes and follows with his head dropped to his chest. There’s no point in fighting about it. Kicking rocks along the way, John keeps a close distance in the rear.

It only takes about ten minutes before they’re knocking on the giant wooden door to the front entrance of Chloe’s house. It swings open with a woosh, and there she stands. Her long, bleached from the sun, blonde hair is pulled into a ponytail that falls into the middle of her back. She’s wearing a light pink tank top with matching shoes. Chloe is short and slim with an hourglass shape. At first glance one could easily think her to be the proper, private school type… until she talks.

"What in Sam's hell are you two dirtbags doin’ at my house so early in the mornin’? I thought you were goin’ to hang out with that pig you call a friend.” She grips a hand on her hip. “If you think your gunna’ guilt me into walkin’ all the way to his cow shit smellin' crap-hole just because you came out of your way to get me. You must be slow in the head."

Chloe doesn't have much of a filter in what she says, never has. And, she sure doesn’t have the time or desire to be proper. She rolls her eyes at the two filthy Hounds boys standing on her giant porch filled with flowers and wicker decor. She quickly decides that she’d rather go on an adventure and play in the mud at some point, than sit at home with her parents' maid. Her parents travel on business most of the summers and leave her alone with a jolly, oversized woman who speaks little English. Living in a depression makes no difference to the Mead family. They have ‘old money’ and aren’t afraid to show it.

Despite their efforts to make Chloe a snob much like them, she put her foot down at a very early age. Chloe refused private school and has a mind of her own. Eventually they gave up and let her do her own thing, turning a blind eye to her in the process.

"I’ll be back by dark!" Chloe yells into the house.

She slams the door, stomps past them onto the road, and takes the lead to their ‘stupid friend’s house’.

Chloe's house is the only one of its size within a five-county range, and it’s the only one of its size that the Hounds boys have ever seen. None of the others who live in the area really understand why the Meads built such a place there. They’re never home and they don’t fit in. Really, no one with more than a couple dollars saved up in pennies does.

Chloe doesn’t care. She fits in just fine, and she loves it there. Which is probably the reason Michael likes to be around her so much. So does John, even though he’d never admit it out loud. Michael decided the day that Chloe put a water snake in their teacher’s drawer, ultimately resulting in her screaming, running out of the room and practically peeing her pants, that Chloe was probably the funniest girl he’d ever meet. Not only that, but she’s all spit and grit. Chloe isn’t one bit afraid of Michael’s temper. She’s reminded him of that on a daily basis, practically their whole lives.

One time he got mad at her for drilling him in the ear with a dirt clod. They were supposed to be on the same team in an all-out playground war. When he got to yelling at her, she told him, “Michael Hounds, I’ll give you a pass on this one, but if you ever yell at me like this again, don’t you think I won’t be afraid to kick you as hard as I can between the legs and then run circles around you. You’ll feel it for a week and you’ll never catch me!”

He knew she wasn’t joking because he’d seen her do it before. Every kid in school knew that she was the fastest around on foot.

The three of them take off toward Steven’s house, having what they think will be great timing. Then, after about a ten-minute walk, Chloe unexpectedly takes a risky turn. The wooded area she disappears into is thick and darkened by the shadowing trees.

“Hey maybe we should stick to the road this time,” shouts John.

“Yeah Chloe, remember what happened last time we took a shortcut?” Michael mocks, “John got a tiny scratch on his leg and cried like a baby.”

He ducks into the darkness, leaving John to stand alone on the road for a few seconds before running after them. John is afraid to get too far behind them, just in case he gets lost. He loves the woods just as much as the other two, but only on one condition. John is extremely cautious, and always makes sure that he can at least see, or hear, who ever he’s with.

“It wasn’t a tiny scratch, you dick. Mom had to put six stitches in my thigh, remember?”

John keeps on ranting and raving while he follows his younger and much braver brother, along with his all too crazy girlfriend into the woods. John is a great aim with his rifle, and awesome at skinning deer, but when it comes to exploring new places, he’s definitely not the type to lead the way. After years of running into bear and being stalked by mountain lions, he’s developed a slight fear of getting caught up alone in the wilderness. That’s not to mention the deep-rooted terror of wolves that’s instilled into his blood, despite the fact that he’s yet to actually see one.

The woods get thicker and thicker. They have to climb over the dead fallen trees, tread through small muddy ponds, and avoid the giant holes in the ground. All the while, not knowing what kind of wild animals might be lurking nearby.

“Snake!” yells Chloe.

The thick trees open up into a small grassy flat, and Chloe sprints into it like a cheetah. One thing about Chloe is that she loves to catch snakes.

“Don’t be stupid Chloe, that sucker’s huge!” shouts Michael, as he reluctantly chases after her.

Michael hates snakes, he never really can tell them apart. Not knowing if they’re poisonous or not scares the crap out of him. Every time they come across one, he’s convinced it’s going to sink its fangs in and put one of them into the ground forever. Chloe laughs at him before pulling out the pocket knife she keeps tied to her belt for just such an occasion. Then she dives into the tall grass.

By the time John and Michael catch up to her in the middle of the flat, she has cut the head off the biggest snake they’ve seen her kill yet. She’s starting to gather a small stack of sticks and bark, placing them on a mound of sandy mud.

“Well, ain't you dirtbags gunna’ help me build a fire? I didn’t pack no fancy sandwich in any stupid little pack like you two sissy lala’s. I’m havin’ this juicy snake for lunch. Ain’t ya’ gettin’ hungry?”

It drives John crazy that Chloe’s favorite way to refer to him is a dirtbag. Nonetheless, they head back out of the flat to pick up all of the dead wood they can carry back. Soon enough, a fire is blazing and the only smell around is that of the long-skinned serpent wrapped around Chloe’s makeshift roasting stick. She holds it over the fire and watches the meat sizzle and drip. Surprisingly, it smells like chicken and both the Hounds brothers can’t help themselves but to have a taste.

It doesn’t take long after their brunch is devoured that the three hoodlums are stepping out of the deep woods and back onto a road. As the sun continues to rise in the sky, it leaves on the pavement a sweltering heat. It’s only a short walk longer to Steven’s house, and the luxury of water will be welcomed.

“See, told ya it wouldn’t be so bad,” says Michael, as he turns to his brother and flashes a smug grin. “We didn’t even see any other animals, and we ate some pretty awesome tastin’ snake.”

John can’t argue with that. Though he isn’t entirely convinced that the shortcut took any time off their trip, considering they had to move much slower, climbing over and ducking through all the irritating deadfall. Usually Steven meets them halfway down the long windy road on his bike. The last couple years they’ve had to spend more time working than hanging out with Steven, it’s made things very different.

That’s why today they decided to take the time away from of their chores and surprise Steven when he got into town. Chloe and Steven have always butted heads more than they get along. John swears it’s because Steven secretly has the hots for her. But he’d never say it out loud for fear of setting off Michael.

“Steven!” both boys shout as they run through his yard, and meet him at the porch.

Chloe stands her ground on the driveway with her arms crossed. Her eyes roll a full circle.

“I see you brought your snappy sidekick.” Steven says, glancing over at her.

She sticks out her tongue and sneers.

“Glad you’re still as ugly as you were last summer, Steven.”

CHAPTERTWO

It’s a hot and sweaty day. Steven’s been back for a couple of weeks now. Just like every other summer, the four spend little time outside of their jobs away from one another. They’re kicked back on Steven’s porch eating ice cream. The Hounds brothers have been out of bed since before the sun came up, digging ditches and fixing fences.

The small cushioned seat of the rickety porch swing and the cold ice cream in their mouths is a welcomed treat. Ice cream is rare. Steven’s father found an old barrel hidden in the back of the freezer in the store. It had too much frost on the top to sell to any passersby, so he was allowed to take it home and share with his family. Now, here they sit, enjoying the day. They’re waiting for Mr. Smith to leave for work so they can get into the basement.

Chloe figured out how to pick a lock with the pins from her hair years ago, so that she could get into her father’s office while he was gone, which sadly, is still more often than not. Her father’s oversized office is his favorite hiding place for any trinkets having been taken away from Chloe. By the time she gets into the room and steals them back, he never remembers what he had hidden anyway in the first place.

The first time Chloe broke into his office, it was to steal a few boxes of shotgun shells and .22 bullets for Michael. Her father had purchased them in bulk to save a few bucks. She was twelve at the time. While Chloe was in the room, she also found all the pocket knives, critter traps, and blow dart guns that had also been taken away from her… this sparked an inferno of breaking and entering.

Chloe decided that very day, that she wanted to pick every lock they come across, just to see what was behind it. The boys all loved her new talent. They were able to acquire lots of forbidden treasures, and no one ever knew what they were missing. They’d all been taught from birth not to steal. But to the Hounds brothers and their two closest friends, rules are just not something they’re interested in.

They have a shed built deep into the woods that no one would possibly be crazy enough to enter. This is where they’ve stashed their treasure for years. They have guns, fleshing knives, saws, spray paint, rope of all lengths, and even small pieces of furniture. Practically anything that could be carried and that they knew would not be missed. Most of all from Chloe’s place. They all just figure that’s the beauty of living in a gigantic house full of crap that you don’t need, and most likely would ever notice has gone missing.

As soon as Steven’s dad, Robert Smith, pulls down the road, they look mischievously at one another and then take off in a sprint down the steps into his basement. Steven has always wanted to know what’s locked away down here. His father told him years ago that it was just a room full of old newspapers. But Steven’s always known there has to be more to this dingy-looking door all locked away. It doesn’t take Chloe long to pick the lock. She’s getting better and faster at it with every lock she opens. The door creaks, and there it is.

“Holy shit,” gasps John.

“This is the best day of my life,” says Michael.

“Look at the dust on all this stuff. I’ll bet this door hasn’t been open in years! No one will even notice if we take it!” adds Chloe.

Steven whispers in fear, “I don’t know guys, my dad will kill me if he finds out.”

“No, he won’t, Red, I can take him,” jokes Michael.

Staring back at them from the wall to wall metal storage shelves are two small crossbows and an open chest of arrows. Along with old war paint, hatchets, a couple machetes and rope. There is one box of newspapers setting on the floor.

“What the hell was my dad doing with this stuff?” Steven asks, more to himself than the others.

Steven’s dad isn’t an adventurous man, and aside from the yearly deer and occasional bear he shoots, he doesn’t even like to get out and do much.

“The bears are getting out of control around here,” and, “we gotta’ have meat to survive,” is his logic for hunting.

He doesn’t enjoy hunting as a sport like the majority of other men and even women in town. It’s more of a chore for him, which is only one step away from insanity from Steven’s point of view. Hunting is Steven’s favorite thing to do with his dad, aside from throwing a football.

“Who cares why he has this stuff!?” John says, always the planner of the group. “Let’s just take it now and hurry, in case he forgot something and has to come back home. We don’t want to get caught carrying it all out of your house.”

They grab as much as they can lift and head straight for the woods. Distracted by all the cool things, they don’t even bother to glance at the newspapers in the box on the floor.

“This is awesome! I get to shoot one first,” shouts Chloe, grabbing the black one.

“And I get the other one first,” follows Michael, staking his claim on the green one.

“Oh hell no! They’re my dads, I get to shoot one first.”

Steven can’t help but to fight for this one. He hasn't been this excited and scared, all at the same time in all of his sixteen years.

Michael has nothing else to say, and he refuses let Steven take ahold of his new weapon. Michael holds the crossbow to his side and throws a powerful swing at Steven with his free hand. Being friends with Michael means you’re bound to get into a fight or two, so you have to be able to take a punch.

Steven is no pansy and he isn’t a little guy by any means. His shaggy red hair goes flying to the side as his jaw takes the blow of the hit. Steven doesn’t much care if this is a fight he can win or lose, he jumps in with fists swinging. Quicker than the crossbow can hit the ground, John swoops in to grab it. He and Chloe stand to the side, waiting for one of them to knock the other out or wrestle one another into submission.

“My money’s on Steven this time. I think he’s had a growth spurt since the last time they got into it. Even his fists are bigger.” Chimes in Chloe, watching intently with her own fists balled.

“You’re on, Blondie. My brother never has lost a fight to Steven,” replies John matter of factly. “If he loses, you have to skin the next ten rabbits I shoot.”

“And, if Steven wins?”

“I won’t tell Michael that I catch you staring at him all the time.”

Chloe’s heart skips a beat, and she lowers her eyes at him.

“Deal,” she agrees, reaching her hand out to give John’s a firm shake.

The fight doesn’t last long. A little bobbing and weaving, and the next thing they know Steven is knocked out on the ground. Chloe splashes a little water on his face and helps him up with a struggled pull.

“You’re lucky he didn’t break your nose this time,” she tells him.

Chloe giggles, helps guide Steven back up to his wobbling feet, and then over to a nearby boulder. She steadies his shoulders while he sits down with a huff. Chloe enjoys seeing Steven get a beating once in a while, she thinks he has it coming. She especially enjoys seeing Michael do the beating. She could watch him fight every day of the week, it never gets old. Chloe has secretly had a thing for Michael since they were little, but she always figured he never saw her that way. She accepted how close they are as friends, and has never told or shown him that she’s felt any different. She doesn’t want anyone to think she’s some sort of sissy lala for having those type feelings anyway.

After the few minutes it takes Steven to regain his strength and thought process, Michael hands him the weapon.

“You sure do have some giant red kahunas, Steven Smith,” he teases as he gives the crossbow up.

Anyone willing to take a punch like that over a dumb ol’ bow probably deserves to shoot it first anyway, Michael thinks. Plus, he knows that if he really wanted to shoot one first all he’d have to do is wink at Chloe and she’d hand hers over in a heartbeat.

For being the loudest and toughest girl he knows, she sure isn’t very good at hiding the way she blushes when he gives her certain looks or says certain things. Michael loves that she has no clue how much he notices her. To him, she’s like having a steaming mug of hot cocoa hidden away for no one else but himself to enjoy on rainy days. Once her teeth were no longer too big for her smile and the rest of her body grew into the size of her feet and hands, she became quite an attractive young woman. Any guy their age would be a fool not to notice.

Michael has always known she’d be his one day, but he does want to ‘get to know’ other girls before he’s ready to settle down with Chloe. So he’s decided not to let her in on his not so little plans for their big future together, just yet. In the meantime, he assumes that they’ll stay the same as they always have, until he’s ready for the rest of his life.

Their day, full of shooting the new-found toys, turns into weeks of much anticipated target practice before and after working on the farms. Soon, they have plenty of experience under their belts, and are each getting to be an awesome shot. It has become a part of their regular routine. It has only taken about three weeks and any squirrel, pigeon, rabbit, or badger within sight stands no chance. The larger game like deer and elk are a bit tougher to get close enough to for a good shot, but each of them is determined. It has grown to be a standing bet on who will nail the first one.

It’s a day like any other, Michael and Chloe are crouched down behind a fallen tree. They have mud caked on their flesh an inch thick. Mud is hands down the best camouflage. Not only does it hide them from sight, but from smell too. Fresh coyote tracks have been in this spot almost every day for the last week. The two sit in perfect silence, just waiting, as they have several times before, stalking an animal. That’s when they see it.

The biggest bear either of them have ever come across slowly makes its way to a pond, just a few yards away from them. The hair on the animal is thick and dark brown. Its paws leave tracks the size of dinner plates. They set their sights.

It’s Chloe who pulls the trigger first, and Michael nearly in unison.

“Got him!” She yells.

Chloe jumps up as soon as the arrows strike fur. But rather than the bear dropping like the small game they’ve killed in the past, or running off to die within minutes like it would have if it were shot with a gun, the bear stands its ground. It is pissed… roaring ferociously and swiping its huge paws around in the dirt.

“No!” Michael yells as the bear storms toward them. “Shit, run Chloe run!”

They take off in the opposite direction. The bear’s gaining ground, and quick.

“Hurry, in the tree!” Chloe shouts as she starts up the base of a huge oak tree. Michael is right behind her.

“What are we doing Chloe? Bears can climb trees too, you idiot!” He yells at her while he’s scaling the branches like an ape.

As fast as humanly possible they scurry up the tree, branch for branch. Luckily, the bear is hit and wounded. It’s unable to lift itself up the trunk. Putting its front paws at the base of the tree, it bawls and bawls. It’s three-inch-long claws ravish the bark violently. It’s close enough to the two that they can smell the horrendous breath and see the steam pouring from out of its mouth.

“Oh my God, look at the size of its teeth,” Michael points out.

“I wonder how long it’s gunna’ take him to die?”

“I don’t know, we could be up here all night,” he says, peeking at her slyly out of the corner of his eye.

“Crap.” Chloe blushes, trying not to look back at him.