Shattered Whispers

SHATTERED WHISPERS LANTERN BEACH EXPOSURE BOOK 2 CHRISTY BARRITT 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 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Also by Christy Barritt: Other Books in the Lantern Beach Series: About the Author CHAPTER ONE Abby Mendez fumbled with her keys as she huddled outside the side entrance of the theater. The chilling wind blasted against her, its strength nearly slamming her into the building. Earlier, she’d heard someone say gusts would hit nearly forty miles an hour today. She believed it. Finally, she found the key, jammed it into the lock, and twisted. As a gale caught the door and flung it open, Abby practically stumbled inside the theater. Quickly, she fought Mother Nature as she struggled to shut the door behind her. Finally, she managed to get it closed. The theater was dark and silent, except for the muffled sounds of the storm outside. She found the light switch and flipped it. Dim fluorescents buzzed overhead as the historic schoolhouse-turned-theater came into sight. The scent of paint, ancient dust, and old wood filled her senses. She loved this building, and being here always brought her a measure of comfort. Theater was the place Abby had found acceptance and a stirring passion. She was so honored to have been entrusted with starting a troupe on this isolated barrier island off the North Carolina coast. They were currently working on The Legend of Lantern Beach, a play Abby herself had written detailing the island’s history—in the most entertaining way possible. The production, full of pirates and early settlers, would open for the summer season in six weeks, and she couldn’t be happier about it. Right now, Abby needed to work on the set. She had a few people helping her, but she worried everything wouldn’t get done in time for opening night. She strode past the seating area and onto the stage before pausing in front of one of the backdrops—an ocean scene. She frowned as she remembered her visit to the actual ocean earlier tonight. Just an hour ago, Abby had finished a date with Raef Fallon. She could tell the tall, lanky, and slightly clueless man liked her. But she didn’t share his feelings. They had no chemistry, and . . . she wasn’t particularly attracted to the pale blond with the quirky—and slightly off-putting—sense of humor. Now, the two of them had to work together since he’d volunteered to run sound for her at the theater. He’d also offered to help her with the set tonight, but Abby had declined his assistance. The two-and-a-half-hour date had been too much time spent with Raef as it was. Then, when he’d pushed for a second date, she’d been forced to tell him she wasn’t interested in going out again. She hated to do it—hated to hurt him. But she couldn’t lead him on either because that would only leave him with more disappointment in the end. Abby hoped things wouldn’t become awkward between the two of them. But how could they not? Immediately after the date, she’d created a new rule for herself: never date anyone involved with her productions. It seemed men were her poison, a trait that her mother had apparently passed on to her. She’d thought the solution to her problems would be to date passive men. Yet she wasn’t attracted to that type. Instead, she was drawn to men with strong personalities—the type who could often be controlling. But no man would ever control her again. She would be homeless and starving before she accepted the help of a supposedly well-intentioned man who simply wanted to dictate her future. Never again. She frowned, grabbed the supplies she’d tucked behind the stage earlier, and planted herself in front of the backdrop. A few minutes later, she began absently stroking her blue-paint-dipped brush on what would soon be the sky. A sound echoed from inside the building, and she froze. Was someone else here? Her breath caught. Only two other people had keys to this place—her assistant director, Danielle, and her stage manager, Devin. Abby knew for a fact neither of them were here. No other cars were in the parking lot, though she supposed someone could have walked here . . . Still, it seemed unlikely. Her heart thumped harder. She remained frozen on her knees, paintbrush in hand, as she listened for the sound again. Several minutes later, silence still reigned. It was probably the wind. The gusts were strong, and this old building was creaky. Releasing her breath, she began painting the backdrop again. But her nerves remained on edge. They had been ever since Myrtle Beach . . . well, before that even. She thought by coming to Lantern Beach she could escape her trouble. She couldn’t. Memories from her past haunted her every day. The creak sounded again, loud enough this time that Abby flinched. The paintbrush flew from her hands. She glanced down and saw streaks of blue on the glossy wood floor—the floor she’d just had redone less than a month ago. This was so typical for her life. Abby grabbed an old rag she kept near the paint can and quickly cleaned the mess. As she did, the gale smashed more debris into the building. Probably small branches, leaves, and sand. The wind on this barrier island was a force to be reckoned with. Just then, a new sound cut through the air. Was that a . . . a moan? Abby’s throat tightened until she could hardly breathe. She swallowed hard before calling, “Hello?” No answer. Should