I Know Your Name: A Chilling Psychological Thriller (Wolf Lake Thriller Book 5) Read online

  I Know Your Name

  A Chilling Psychological Thriller

  Dan Padavona

  Published by Dan Padavona

  Visit my website at www.danpadavona.com

  Copyright © 2021 by Dan Padavona

  Artwork copyright © 2021 by Dan Padavona

  Cover Design by Caroline Teagle Johnson

  All Rights Reserved

  Although some of the locations in this book are actual places, the characters and setting are wholly of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance between the people in this book and people in the real world is purely coincidental and unintended.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

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  1. CHAPTER ONE

  2. CHAPTER TWO

  3. CHAPTER THREE

  4. CHAPTER FOUR

  5. CHAPTER FIVE

  6. CHAPTER SIX

  7. CHAPTER SEVEN

  8. CHAPTER EIGHT

  9. CHAPTER NINE

  10. CHAPTER TEN

  11. CHAPTER ELEVEN

  12. CHAPTER TWELVE

  13. CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  14. CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  15. CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  16. CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  17. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  18. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  19. CHAPTER NINETEEN

  20. CHAPTER TWENTY

  21. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  22. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  23. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  24. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  25. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  26. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  27. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  28. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  30. CHAPTER THIRTY

  31. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  32. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  33. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  34. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  35. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  36. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  37. CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  38. CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  39. CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  40. CHAPTER FORTY

  41. CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  42. CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  43. CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  44. CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  45. CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  46. CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  47. CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  48. CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

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  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

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  CHAPTER ONE

  Friday, 10:55 p.m.

  Black clouds gathered overhead and blotted out the night sky. The car smelled of gasoline and fast food. The fuel filter was clogged, and fries covered the floor mats. Slumped in the passenger seat of Polly Hart’s car, Shawn Massey fiddled with his phone. Why wouldn’t his mother answer?

  Polly brushed the blonde hair off her cheek and peered through the windshield. The girl directed a concerned scowl at Shawn.

  “Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

  No, he wasn’t. Three years ago, Shawn’s mother had walked out on their family and moved across Wells Ferry to live beside the lake. Shawn had expected Megan Massey would remarry, yet she didn’t have a boyfriend. Not as far as he could tell. She had neither the time nor the inclination. The woman cared about nothing but work.

  A rising star among criminal defense attorneys, Megan would accept a position at a big city firm before long. A job in Buffalo or Albany. Maybe even New York City. Then Shawn would never see her again. She called him every day. Once or twice a week, he ate dinner at her place, an expensive lake house his father could never afford. Their strained conversations spoke volumes. Megan wasn’t comfortable around her only child. She’d leave him at the first opportunity.

  “I have to confront her,” Shawn said, glaring out the window as the manicured properties grew.

  “You aren’t going to do anything stupid, right?”

  Polly held his eyes. Shawn didn’t reply.

  A quarter-mile from the house, Shawn pointed along the shoulder.

  “Drop me off here.”

  “It’s nighttime, Shawn. What if a car comes along and doesn’t notice you?”

  “Stop worrying.” He hopped out of the car and leaned his head inside. “I’ll call you in the morning.”

  Worry creased her forehead.

  “What if I stick around for ten minutes? Just in case it storms.”

  “It’s been threatening to shower all day, and nothing has happened. I’ll walk home afterward.”

  “I’m uncomfortable leaving you here.”

  He forced himself to grin.

  “I’m not afraid of a little rain, Polly.” He tapped the roof of the car. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

  She huffed as he slammed the door. Then she drove off and left him along the road, the darkness suffocating as peepers sang from the lake shore. He stuffed his hands inside his pockets and shuffled down the road. The houses along the water ran upwards of four-hundred grand, the properties spaced out and bordered by trees for privacy. You didn’t need fences in the lake district. Sprawling estates gave you all the isolation you wanted. His sneakers squeaked along the blacktop. Headlights approached from the end of the road and vanished after the driver turned down a side street.

  A humid wind shoved him from behind. Insistent. As if nudging him forward. All week, the news had predicted severe weather—thunderstorms with torrential downpours, flooding, high winds. The Wells River roared in the distance like a monstrous beast consuming the land.

  The trees rustled off the road. Shawn pulled up and stared into the shadows, convinced he wasn’t alone in the night. Walking faster, he lowered his head against the breeze. The sensation that someone watched him grew with each step.

  Before he realized it, he stood in his mother’s driveway, bouncing on his toes as he reconsidered. It was one thing to imagine the argument in his head, but quite another to go head-to-head with a lawyer who masqueraded as a parent. Not that his mother would belittle him. But how did you win a debate with a woman who argued for a living? Three years ago, at the impressionable age of fourteen, he’d heard his parents yelling from the bedroom. They’d fought before, but never like this. A chasm formed between Kemp and Megan Massey, and neither seemed willing to build a bridge. Then one evening, after Shawn finished putting the dinner dishes away, his parents sat him at the kitchen table and gave him the talk. Mom was moving out. It wasn’t forever, just until his parents worked out their differences.

  Even then, Shawn had known better. She wasn’t coming back.

  Shawn drew a breath and raised his gaze to the house. Something was wrong. From outside, it appeared his mother had gone to sleep early. But he knew Megan Massey. She never turned in before one in the morning on the weekend, preferring to sleep late. The lights were off, no flicker from the television screen. Yet he sensed movement inside the house.

  He glanced over his shoulder. Nobody watched.

  Shawn strode up the walkway, past the potted palms, sneakers scraping along paving stones, as he climbed the stoop. The mailbox rattled when the wind gusted. A wet shoe print glistened on the stoop. He raised his knuckles to bang on the door and stopped. T
he door stood open a crack.

  Though Wells Ferry was rich with old money, the town had its problems. Crime grew on the east end of Wells Ferry and spread like a blight. There was no chance his mother would leave the door unlocked at night.

  Shawn’s heart thumped, his instincts on high alert as he paused outside the entryway.

  Voices traveled from somewhere in the house. From the kitchen?

  Shawn set his hand on the door and edged it open. The hinges didn’t groan and give him away. Now he stood in the foyer, the room thick with air freshener and cleaning solution, impenetrable darkness daring him to step forward. Shadows lurched off the furniture and crept across the floorboards. He wanted to call out to his mother, but he kept quiet, sensing danger hid around the corner.

  Dread deadened his legs. He moved along the wall, sticking to the dark. Pictures of boats, sunsets, and shimmering lake waters adorned the walls. No photographs from family vacations. No memories of the loved ones she’d left behind.

  A thought popped into Shawn’s head. What if his mother had brought a date home and entertained him in the kitchen? If so, why were the lights off?

  A thump brought him to a stop. A squealing noise came from the kitchen as someone shoved a chair across the floor.

  “You don’t have to do this,” his mother said from around the corner.

  “Too late,” a voice whispered.

  “Please, no. I’m sorry. It doesn’t have to end this way.”

  Shawn’s legs locked. He didn’t dare move a step closer. Someone was in the house and threatening his mother. Swallowing, Shawn forced himself to move. He wished for a weapon, something he could use to defend his mother. In his bedroom, he kept a multi-tool with two sharp knives, one serrated. Little good that did him now. Scanning the hallway for a makeshift weapon, he found nothing.

  “You never should have crossed me, Megan.”

  Burgeoned by a need to defend his mother, Shawn pushed off the wall and turned the corner. He saw her. Eyes beseeching, Megan hunched over in a chair with the shadowed figure towering over her.

  “We can work this out,” she sobbed.

  The LED clock on the microwave reflected off the knife before the man jabbed the blade into Megan Massey’s stomach. Her mouth opened in a silent scream. Blood trickled off her lower lip.

  “Mom!”

  The man whirled around. He hadn’t noticed Shawn until now.

  Smooth and confident, the man focused on Shawn. Razor-sharp eyes peered out through holes in the ski mask. The stranger dressed in black to blend with the darkness, down to the leather gloves. As though he had all the time in the world, the murderer cleaned the knife with Megan’s shirt. His mother’s eyes fluttered as her life slipped away.

  When the man stepped toward Shawn, the boy turned to run. There was nothing he could do to save his mother from the fatal wound. Now he needed to save himself.

  A snicker escaped the killer’s lips.

  “I know your name,” the madman whispered.

  Shawn scrambled down the hallway as footsteps thundered out of the kitchen. Slipping on the floor, the teenager knocked a photograph off the wall. The frame smacked the hardwood, shattering the pane. Shawn righted himself and raced for the door. Glass crunched behind him under a booted foot.

  The killer burst out of the house as Shawn ran into the night.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Friday, 11:20 p.m.

  Raven Hopkins lay on the precipice of sleep, half-aware of the lightning flickering outside the cabin window. This was the third time this week she’d spent the night in Darren Holt’s cabin in Wolf Lake State Park, and she wouldn’t have wished for anything else.

  A private investigator with Wolf Lake Consulting, Raven curled beside Darren and listened as he snored, massaging the knot out of his shoulder while he muttered something indecipherable inside a dream. He’d worked his fingers to the bones all day, maintaining the park trails and fighting against the weather. After a snowy winter, April had arrived with unseasonable warmth and ceaseless rains. Two mudslides closed the west end of the ridge trail, and water roared over the cliffs of Lucifer Falls, carving out the stream bed where they’d excavated the skeleton of a murder victim last summer.

  Thunder rumbled and shook the walls. The clamor caused Darren to stir before he draped a pillow over his head and fell asleep.

  Raven turned to her back and glanced at her phone. Maybe she should check on her mother.

  No, that was a bad idea. Since last April, Raven had watched Serena Hopkins like a hawk, worried her mother would relapse. After her brother, LeVar, and Thomas Shepherd, now the sheriff of Nightshade County, rescued Serena during a heroin overdose, Serena entered rehab. She’d come so far over the last twelve months. Serena never missed a Narcotics Anonymous meeting, and she’d proved herself capable of handling a high-pressure sales position at Shepherd Systems, where she worked with her best friend, Naomi Mourning.

  Still, Raven fretted. As Serena often acknowledged, one never conquered addiction. The temptation forever lingered. But it was time to cut the strings and let her mother survive on her own. Give her space and allow her to thrive. And Raven would earn more time with Darren.

  Nobody comforted Raven as much as the ranger. The sprawling state park grounds and rustic cabin lent Raven peace. This was their sanctuary, their endless adventure. Since winter’s end, Raven had considered selling her house to Serena. As much as she loved the little house on the west ridge above Wolf Lake, it didn’t speak to her the way the cabin did.

  Happiness fluttered through her chest as she imagined a new life inside these cabin walls.

  Darren’s phone rang, dragging him up from sleep. He flicked on the light, rubbed his eyes, and stared at the phone.

  “It’s Kemp,” he said, giving Raven a confused glance.

  Darren’s cousin, Kemp Massey, lived with his son in Wells Ferry on the western edge of Nightshade County. Raven met Kemp and Shawn over Christmas. She recalled Kemp’s wife had left him three years ago, and Shawn hadn’t taken the separation well. Why would Kemp call Darren this late? Raven worried something had happened to Shawn. As she climbed off the bed, Darren sat upright and grabbed her arm. She questioned Darren with her eyes as he fumbled for a pen and paper.

  “Dead? Are you sure it was murder?” Darren scribbled on a memo pad. “Where is Shawn now?” Another pause as Darren grabbed his clothes off the foot of the bed. “Call the sheriff’s department. Raven and I are on our way.”

  Darren tucked his phone into his pocket and tossed a sweatshirt over his head while Raven pulled on her clothes.

  “What was that about?”

  “Someone murdered Megan Massey at her house, and Shawn saw it happen.”

  Raven placed a hand over her heart.

  “Oh, my God. Who killed her?”

  “Shawn didn’t see the man’s face. He called Kemp a few minutes ago and said the guy was still after him. Then Shawn’s phone died.”

  “So Kemp doesn’t know where Shawn is?”

  “No,” Darren said, slipping his gun into his shoulder holster. Before taking the ranger’s position at Wolf Lake State Park, Darren had worked the force with the Syracuse Police Department.

  Raven grabbed her gun and threw her beaded hair over her shoulder. Thunder rumbled when they stepped into the humid night. Water sloshed off the ridge and rushed toward the lake. The last thing Nightshade County needed was another round of storms. Concern etched into his forehead, Darren surveyed the horizon as lightning flashed. Shawn was out there somewhere, running for his life.

  “I can’t assess the trails in the dark,” Darren said, running a hand through his hair. “The hikers won’t be happy, but I’ll close the ridge trail until I’m sure it’s safe.”

  Raven helped Darren carry a roadblock from the storage shed behind the cabin. Their sneakers slipped in the mud as they traversed the slick grass. Darren had outfitted the roadblock to read Trail Closed Until Further Notice. The sign wouldn’t stop a hiker in
tent on breaking the rules, but it was the best he could do for now.

  Darren started the engine as Raven slid into the passenger seat of his midnight blue Dodge Silverado 4x4. Turning on the high beams, Darren backed the truck out of the welcome center’s parking lot and took the winding road into the village. Rain splattered the windshield. He activated the wipers and leaned forward, hands death-gripping the steering wheel.

  Why would anyone murder Megan Massey? Raven considered the possibilities as they drove down the lake road toward the interstate. Criminal defense attorneys represented unsavory characters. Had Megan crossed a client?

  The truck slowed as Darren pumped the brakes. Around the bend, water rushed across the road and cascaded down the hillside. Raven’s heart pushed into her throat until they made it through the washout.

  “Tell me everything about Megan Massey,” she said, distracting herself from the flooding.

  “Megan and Kemp had issues even when Shawn was younger.” Darren pulled his lips tight as he remembered. “She’s driven. I never pegged her for a small-town attorney and figured she’d end up at a major law firm. Not sure if Kemp would have allowed her to take a big city position.”

  “So Kemp controlled the marriage.”

  “You could interpret it that way. I’d rather say he looks out for Shawn’s best interest and wouldn’t drag his son away from his friends just so his wife could earn a promotion.”

  Raven tapped her sapphire nails against the armrest.

  “What about Shawn? You mentioned he had trouble fitting in at school.”

  Darren wiped a raindrop off his nose. He turned off the high beams when the truck encountered ground fog. As long as nature kept throwing hazards in front of them, Raven wouldn’t relax until they reached the highway.

  “Shawn got along with his classmates until the separation. Then his grades dropped, and the school suspended him after he started a fight.”

  “Rage issues aren’t unusual for teens from broken homes.”

  “Kemp doesn’t know what to do. Shawn refuses to see a counselor, and Megan is… was too focused on her job to notice her son spinning out of control.” Darren took a sharp turn onto the interstate ramp and punched the accelerator. “I still can’t believe someone murdered Megan in front of Shawn. We have to find that kid. Can you call Chelsey?”