Bellamy and the Haunting by Alicia Michaels

Author:Alicia Michaels [Michaels, Alicia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: YA fairy tale retelling
Publisher: Clean Teen Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2017-04-04T04:00:00+00:00

“Is this her?” Tate asked, turning the screen of his tablet toward me.

Glancing up from my phone, I studied the photo from the article he was reading. Shaking my head, I sighed. “No,” I replied. “But she has to be in here somewhere.”

We’d spent the past two hours researching the drownings that had been happening at Lake Blackshear since last summer, seeming to hit a crescendo as the various school districts and colleges had their spring breaks. With the lake being a popular vacation spot in the state, people had been coming in from all over, many of them never making it home again.

Tate had reluctantly left me long enough to take a taxi back to the cabin, shower, shave, and change into clean clothes. He’d returned to the hospital with a bag of both my things and his, along with his tablet, which had been left on the charger in our room. With him on the tablet and me using my phone, we were able to comb through more of the news stories faster. It had become frustrating, as we hadn’t yet come across the story about our ghost—which would give us a clearer idea of when she’d died.

“You know what I don’t get?” Tate asked, gaze still fixed on the tablet screen as he scrolled with his finger.

“Hmm?” I mumbled absently, still combing through articles on my phone.

“How the ghost managed to drag you into the lake … or rather, how the lake itself seemed to attack you. I mean, how does a tree root get beneath a lake?”

“Actually,” I said, glancing up at him. “That’s one of the interesting things about Lake Blackshear. It’s manmade, created when they built a dam back in 1930 off the Flint River. The people who worked to pave the way for the dam didn’t make much of an effort to cut down the cypress trees in the area, thinking all the water flooding it would eventually kill them. But in some places along the lake—which spans twenty miles—you can actually see the tops of the cypress trees growing out of the lake. Some of them died, but never fell down; others are still thriving.”

Raising his eyes to meet my gaze, he shook his head in amazement. “Did you research this place before we came?”

I shrugged. “There was a book about Georgia history in the library … the dam they built happens to be the first county-owned, constructed, and operated power dam in U.S. History.”

“Right,” Tate murmured, going back to his phone. “What about this girl?”

I shook my head at the photo and went back to my phone. “Nope. We haven’t found her yet, and I’m almost past the date that the rise in drownings began.”

“Me too,” he agreed. “Maybe we need to switch gears here. Let’s backtrack. You said they were making out in a pickup truck.”

“Yes,” I said. “Like maybe they’d had a date or something. She seemed really nervous, so it was probably a first date.”

“So, the guy takes her out, then they go park.

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