The secret of markie bea.., p.1
The Secret of Markie Beach, page 1
The
Secret
of
Markie Beach
Hannah Grieve
© 2022 by Hannah Grieve
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced mechanically, electronically, or by any other means, including photocopying, without permission of the publisher or author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission from the publisher or author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
First Edition: 2022
ISBN : 9781778104602
Edited & Formatted by Samantha Pico. Miss Eloquent Edits
Cover design by Gabriella Regina
For my parents, who made this possible
Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Acknowledgments
One
I never thought I would have to fight for my life. It never even crossed my mind. The privilege of a happy childhood in a small town is that you grow up fostering an innate sense of security. You saw violence in action movies or on the news, not in your own life. If you were lucky, it could get downright boring. All of that changed in one summer.
Only a handful of people live year-round in Markie, the remote beach town in the heart of cottage country where I grew up. My family was one of them. The Collins family has lived in Markie since its founding, helping it flourish into the popular vacation spot it is today. When the snow and ice melted, our little town seemed to come alive, welcoming hordes of summer tourists. For generations, we’ve owned the marina, where boats of every shape and size have docked.
“You know, Alana, you could help out around here for once,” Ben joked.
Ben Giles was another Markie local and a close family friend. He was the mechanic, but when he wasn’t fixing a boat, he was filling one with gas or trying to sell tourists expensive boat shoes they didn’t need.
In his late twenties, he was tall and slim, with strength you only gain from manual labor. Ben had worked for my father at the marina for years, becoming his right-hand man. He was the guy in charge when Dad wasn’t around, and luckily, he was also one of my best friends.
I stuck my tongue out at him, which was blue from my popsicle. “I’m not on the clock. You’re on your own.” Ben was filling an obnoxious silver and red motorboat’s gas tank as he continued to tease me. “I don’t know why you hang around here all the time. Don’t you have any schoolwork to do? I find it hard to believe that a college student has nothing to read.”
“It’s June, Ben. I don’t have to do any work for almost three months.” I kicked the water, splashing droplets on him. “Besides, if I was reading, then I couldn’t be here to annoy you.”
“Lucky me.” The boat owners meandered out of the shop and toward us. They were a group of kids who looked to be around my age, all dressed from head to toe in brand-name surf clothing that screamed “rip off.” One girl wore Prada sunglasses, which she pushed up onto her head of long dark hair.
“You finished?” one of the guys asked Ben. He wore nothing but a pair of cargo shorts and a baseball cap.
“Yep.” Ben nodded. “You’re all set.”
“Thanks, man.” He handed Ben a few bills and helped the girl with the sunglasses into the boat. As the others climbed in, a few of the guys gave me the once-over. One winked at me.
“See, you should be going out with kids like that,” Ben stated once they were gone. “Not hanging around this marina.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’d rather drink gasoline than hang around those guys. They’re so obnoxious.”
“You don’t know that. You didn’t even talk to them.”
I stood, readjusting my shorts. “I would much rather hang out and keep you company, Ben.” I pinched his cheek with affection and irritation.
It was a warm day, the kind that gratified me to live so close to a large body of water. A sheen of sweat had tickled the back of my neck, and I was debating jumping into the harbor fully clothed just to cool off.
“I’m gonna go grab a soda. Want one?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said, pulling out his wallet.
I waved away his money. The marina shop was small, with rows of overpriced candy, home decorations and clothing. Every summer, I worked as the assistant manager there. I got almost anything in the shop for free, one of the perks of being the boss’s daughter. Ben did, too, but he always tried to pay, anyway.
On my way down the dock, I passed a couple of girls around my age. The matching tattoos on their collarbones caught my eye. I would have liked to get a better look but didn’t want to be rude and stare. They smiled at me as I passed by, and I shot a small one in return.
Inside the marina shop, a large opening led into a rectangular hole in the floor, which opened into the water. An antique wooden boat sat in the hole, bobbing with each wave. Old-fashioned pop bottles filled the small fridge by the cashier, but I walked past it to the other side of the counter where another smaller fridge sat, filled with regular pop cans.
“Hey, Alana!” greeted Rachel, a part-time employee. We weren’t exactly best friends, but she came to town every single summer with her family, so we knew each other pretty well. “Are you going to Eli’s tonight?”
“Don’t think so.” I pulled out two sodas before chugging mine in a matter of seconds. The moment the cool liquid touched my lips, my body temperature lowered.
“You should come,” she said. “I don’t know that many people that are going.”
“Why are you going, then?” That came out harsher than I meant it. It wasn’t that I didn’t like Rachel; she was just obnoxious. She talked more than the average person, which wouldn’t normally bother me, except for the fact that she rarely said anything of substance.
Rachel crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the counter. “I want to put myself out there more. And I’m really hoping to get to know Eli better. This is kind of a secret, but I have a thing for him.”
It wasn’t a secret. She ran after him like a sad little puppy. In many ways, Rachel resembled a golden retriever and not just because of her blonde hair. When she wasn’t here, she was at the gym or running on the beach. She had once invited me to go for an early morning jog before work, and I nearly laughed in her face. We were very different people. If I went to the beach, it was to sunbathe and listen to true crime podcasts.
“Just ask him about any movie with Vin Diesel and explosions, and you’ll be fine. Besides, everyone goes to his parties. I’m sure you’ll have fun,” I said. “I’m gonna go bring this to Ben.” I pointed to the pop can. “See you later.”
“Text me if you’re gonna come tonight!” she said as I walked away. I gave her a small smile and turned the corner, running into the girls with the tattoos from the dock. Their tattoos were suns, made of an intricate spiral with little points surrounding them. I forced myself not to stare, meeting their eyes instead.
“Oh, sorry!” I blurted, stepping back.
“No, no, it was our fault.” One of them smiled. They stared at me, as if they were studying me in a cold, calculating way. The one who spoke to me was East Indian with a round face and beautiful hazel eyes. Her hair was tied into a long braid, and she wore an airy red sundress that popped against her complexion. The other was shorter, with a thin face and long, scraggly brown hair. The baggy T-shirt she wore as a dress made her look even skinnier.
They were both beautiful but looked tired, like something heavy was weighing on them. While their eyes appeared somber, the rest of their expressions seemed content. They didn’t have the tourist-cottager look like the rest of the summer invaders, but they weren’t locals, either. I would recognize them. They were probably from the next town over or something like that.
“Okay, well, have a nice day . . .”
I inched around them, heading down the dock. When I turned to glance back at them, my heart dropped to the floor.
They were still watching me. Something about their stares made my skin crawl. Even from a distance, it felt like I was being examined. I hurried over to Ben, trying to calm my nerves before handing him the pop.
“Thanks.”
I swept an uneasy glance at him before looking back down the dock; the two girls had left as quickly as they had appeared. When Ben opened his drink, the hiss made me jump.
“You okay?” he asked between gulps of pop.
I looked back at him. “What?”
“Are you okay?” he repeated. “You look like you just dropped your last french fry in the water.”
“I’m fine.” I shrugged. “Uh, I’m gonna head home, though. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay . . .” Ben turned to an approaching
I kept my eyes peeled for those girls during the walk home, their gaze lingering. I told myself I was just being paranoid, but something about the way they had looked at me put me on edge. I pushed the memory from my head as I turned onto my street.
My parents are the best example of Markie locals I could imagine. My father grew up in town, and when he went off to college, he brought back my mom. She was a city girl through and through but swears she’s much happier in our quiet little town. Even though it was my dad’s hometown, you’d think my mom was the one who grew up there. Everyone knows her, mostly because she makes friends wherever she goes. She’s the type to pull your entire life story out of you in the grocery store checkout line.
Maybe it’s her appearance that makes her so recognizable. While my dad is typically dressed in jeans and a hoodie, his copper hair tucked into a baseball cap, Mom wears crisp white jeans and colorful tunics. She always has at least four rings with different colored gems on her fingers, her dark hair perfectly styled to frame her face.
“You’re back early.” Mom was sitting in the living room reading a magazine when I got home. She had her feet up on the coffee table, enjoying a moment of calm.
“I guess,” I said. “Don’t you have your book club?”
“That’s Wednesdays,” she said. “I was supposed to help your cousin, Jessie, paint the nursery tonight, but she had to go into work. How was your day?”
“Fine,” I said. “The usual.”
“I don’t know why you hang around that marina,” she said. “You’ve spent almost every day there since you got home. Although I guess you do like to spend a lot of time with Ben . . .”
I rolled my eyes. Around age thirteen, I had developed a big crush on him. It was obviously a one-sided affair because he had a good eight years on me, but my mom still teased me about it.
“Seeing as he’s one of my best friends, then, yes, I do,” I said. “Where’s Dad?”
“In Parkson running some errands. Hey, since you’re home, want to watch one of the gory horror movies he hates?” she asked. “He won’t be back until dinner, and there’s a new zombie one that looks good.”
“I’ll get the nachos.”
J
One grotesque horror movie and two plates of loaded nachos later, I sat in my bedroom, reading an old Agatha Christie novel I’d picked up at the used bookstore in town. I kept having to reread the last paragraph, as my mind wandered back to the girls with their strange tattoos and the unease in my gut.
Eventually, I gave up on getting anywhere with the book. I set it aside and sat up on my bed, looking around my childhood bedroom. Most of my clothes were still packed from school because I was too lazy to bother organizing, and I was running out of clean clothes. I made a mental note to do laundry at some point.
“Hey!” Jamie Harris, my best friend, came into my room. She usually did this, dropping in at her leisure. My parents knew to expect her at any hour, and like most Markie locals, we rarely kept the door locked. Jaime and I also went to college together as if we weren’t codependent enough.
I turned around in my seat to face her. “Hey.”
Jamie is the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, inside and out. Her mom was from Mexico City, emigrating here after meeting her dad when he was on vacation there. He was a Markie local, so they had settled in town before having her and her younger brother. They had divorced a few years prior, her brother choosing to live with her dad on the outskirts of town while she stayed with her mom.
“I was stuck helping my mom at the restaurant all morning, and I’m exhausted,” she said. “The breakfast rush in this town is no joke.” She turned to face the full-length mirror in the corner of my room and fixed her shoulder-length black hair.
“Your butt looks insane in those shorts,” I commented. “Did you get them at work?”
She laughed before looking at her ample curves in admiration. “Please, the only people who shop at Windswept are your aunts. Everything smells like moth balls and bad perfume. Not to mention that no one within five miles of this place sells decent plus-size clothing. I haven’t shopped in person since we got back. It’s online shopping for me all the way.”
“Well, they look amazing,” I said. “But, I mean, you could wear a potato sack and still look hot. Seriously, did your boobs get bigger overnight?”
“I know. It’s all the fresh air here. I think I went up half a cup size,” she said, flopping onto my bed. “So, how do you feel about going to Eli’s start-of-summer party tonight? Sammie texted me about it and said Naomi’s gonna be there.” Naomi and Jamie had been on and off since grade ten. They always ended things on good terms but could never walk away from each other. She was her first real relationship, and in a small town with such a limited dating pool, it was hard to forget about people.
“Why would we do that?” I asked. In high school, I would have probably jumped at a fun night out with my friends, but too much had changed.
“Because all we’ve done so far this summer is binge watch serial killer documentaries,” she whined.
“But there’s this new one out about this guy who stole babies out of people’s houses,” I said. “It’s supposed to be insane.”
“Okay, first of all, that sounds horrifying. And if I spend one more night stuffing my face full of you mom’s weird healthy chips, I’m gonna puke.” She sighed, pulling herself off the bed. “Let’s go out and be young, make some bad decisions, and get drunk on cheap beer.”
“I don’t think so.” I curled deeper into my bed, wrapping myself in the sheets. “But you go ahead if you want.”
She stared down at me, putting her hands on her hips. “You can’t hide from them forever.”
“I disagree,” I chirped from my blanket wrap.
She ripped the sheets off of me despite my protest. “Ever since you’ve been home, all you want to do is avoid everyone. I was all for the pity party at first, but now, it’s just getting unhealthy. You need to throw on a push-up bra and go make some hearts bleed.”
I wrestled the sheets back from her and pulled them over my head.
Instead of pulling them off again, she tried crawling into them with me. “Pebbles, you know I’ll support you whatever you want to do, but I really think you need to stop hibernating. All you do is hang around the marina, my house, and here,” she whispered. “Remember how much fun it was at school? Let’s go dance again!” When that didn’t work, she huffed. “If you go with me tonight, I’ll go with you in August to that stupid country music thing you keep hinting at.”
“It’s not stupid; it’s a country music festival, and deal,” I agreed instantly. Getting Jamie to listen to country music was damn near impossible. I could tolerate a party for that.
“Oh my god; thank you, thank you, thank you!” She jumped off the bed and ran over to my closet. “Let me pick out your outfit and do your makeup!”
I went to the mirror and examined my reflection—if I was going to this party, I would need to do some serious work. My skin was breaking out from too much pop, and I had bags under my eyes from staying up too late every night. I pulled the hair tie from the top of my head, letting my hair frame my face, long auburn locks hanging down to the middle of my back. For a moment, I let Jamie’s excitement rub off on me: maybe it would be okay, and if not, I would just lock myself in this room for the rest of the summer. Either way, I guess I was going out.
J
Eli’s house was right on the beach, and his parents let him do whatever he wanted, even when we were kids. When he threw a party, everyone under twenty-five showed up. To be totally honest, no one liked him. He was kind of a jerk, but he had great parties, so we went. I was usually excited to go, but that night, I reluctantly let Jamie drag me down the street.
“Ew.” I shook my head at a group of high school girls in crop tops and short shorts. “So tacky. They look like they’re twelve. I can’t believe their parents let them out of the house like that.”
“Were we that lame at their age?” Jamie asked me as she stepped over someone’s abandoned beer bottle. A red thong was laying a few feet away, and I wondered how someone had lost their underwear so soon. It wasn’t even ten o’clock.
