Widow Falls

By Kiersten Modglin

From million-copy bestselling author Kiersten Modglin...

 

The last girl went missing.
Someone doesn't want her to be found.

When Sloane takes a job at the infamous whitewater rafting camp, Widow Falls, she quickly learns that the camp has a reputation for more than just summer fun.

People go missing at Widow Falls.

The guide she's replacing was just one of many. As Sloane settles into her new home—a one-room apartment she'll be sharing with the five other guides—she can't help asking questions and digging into the disappearances she's heard about. Her new roommates tell her stories of dark legends and dangerous folklore surrounding the secluded camp but assure her there's nothing to worry about. It's all just superstition.

When Sloane stumbles upon a clue and a secret message hidden beneath the floorboards of their loft, she begins to realize there may be more to the myths than she's been told.

The message gets her attention: Don't trust anyone at Widow Falls.

As she follows clues to better understand the missing guide she replaced, Sloane can't help noticing the similarities between the two of them.

What happened to the other girl?
Why won't the others help her search?
Are they all in danger?

Whatever's happening at Widow Falls, it's clear someone doesn't want her digging into it. As the seams of her reality are torn apart, making her question everything she sees, feels, and believes, Sloane will have to uncover the truth about the camp—and its occupants—before someone else goes missing.

Because this time…it might be her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kiersten Modglin
• Release date: Sep 21, 2021
• ISBN: 9798223993117

Kiersten Modglin

KIERSTEN MODGLIN is an Amazon Top 10 bestselling author of psychological thrillers. Her books have sold over a million copies and been translated into multiple languages. Kiersten is a member of International Thriller Writers, Novelists, Inc., and the Alliance of Independent Authors. She is a KDP Select All-Star and a recipient of ThrillerFix's Best Psychological Thriller Award, Suspense Magazine's Best Book of 2021 Award, a 2022 Silver Falchion for Best Suspense, and a 2022 Silver Falchion for Best Overall Book of 2021. Kiersten grew up in rural western Kentucky and later relocated to Nashville, Tennessee, where she now lives with her family. Kiersten's readers across the world lovingly refer to her as "KMod." A binge-watching expert, psychology fanatic, and indoor enthusiast, Kiersten enjoys rainy days spent with her favorite people and evenings with her nose in a book.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

SLOANE

That scene when the girl in a horror movie walks into a new house and the hairs on her arms stand on end?

I wished I had instincts like that.

I’d always thought those moments were purely cinematic excellence, and maybe they are, but I can pinpoint the instance they could’ve saved me.

It doesn’t matter anymore.

Thinking back.

Wishing.

Wondering how different my life would’ve been if I’d turned around that day. If I’d had a single inkling that things were about to go so wrong.

But I didn’t.

I didn’t feel a chill. My hair stayed perfectly in place. Nothing felt off to me. And so, I stayed the course.

I walked straight into the horror that was about to unfold without a single, solitary hesitation. I had no idea what was coming.

Far off the beaten path, the road was lined with large trees, their branches outstretched toward the sky, blocking most of the sun. White dust from the gravel flew up in every direction surrounding my car, giving my first sight of my new home a muddied, white-gray glow.

The large, gray barn was to my right, up at the top of a steep hill, with a sign outside of it that read Widow Falls Office, an arrow pointed toward the front door.

There were two small lots for parking, both full of cars. To my left, two male guides stood, talking to a large crowd of people underneath a pavilion.

Swarms of people could be seen walking into the office, all with bright, white helmets on their heads, long, yellow oars in their hands, and goofy grins on their faces. I eased into the gravel parking lot, slowing down as a child darted across the road, a disheveled mother running behind him with one hand in the air toward me, an apology of sorts.

I smiled and lifted my fingers from the steering wheel, then drove farther up, looking for a spot to park. When I finally found one, nestled between a dusty, blue van with an I would rather be camping sticker on the back window and a small, yellow Beetle, I pulled in and stepped from the car.

The hot and humid Tennessee summer was in full swing, and I pulled my knockoff sunglasses up from my eyes, shoving them back on my head as I moved forward, searching for where to go.

I made my way toward the barn slowly, everyone bustling around me in a hurry, guides shouting directions to their groups. A family stood next to the Widow Falls sign, all sporting brand-new shirts from the gift shop that read I survived Widow Falls.

As the glass door swung open, the small, metal bell above the door chimed pleasantly and a group of rowdy teenage boys ran through it, nearly plowing into me.

The woman behind the counter had her gray, wiry hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, a bright, lime green visor on her head. Loose skin hung off her long, thin arms, and, when she saw me, she tucked a white bra strap back under the sleeve of her light blue tank top.

Can I help you?

I’m Sloane, I said, hoping that meant something to her. I’m supposed to be starting work here tomorrow. The woman I talked to, um…Kimberly, I think… She said I could move in today.

She nodded, then licked her finger and turned to her right, thumbing through a stack of papers. Apparently reaching whatever she needed, she pulled a piece of paper from the stack, her nearly silver eyes darting back and forth across the page.

Sloane Marshall, she read aloud, though I wasn’t sure if she was asking me to confirm. Mkay. She held out a bony hand. I need to make a copy of your ID.

I pulled my wallet out of the crossbody purse I was wearing and passed it to her. She spun around, placing it facedown on the oversized, outdated copier and closing the lid. When she pressed the button, it whirred to life.

This is a beautiful place, I said, raising my voice to speak over the noise of the machine, though it fell silent mid-sentence, so I was just screaming at her for no reason.

She slid the ID back to me on the counter, looking over the copy in her hand before adding it to the stack. With another lick of her finger, she flipped through the pages again, pulling out another one.

Are you having the rent pulled straight from your check?

Yeah, I said. At twenty dollars a week, the rent was a steal, and the fact that I wouldn’t have to commute to work or pay any separate utilities was even better. Kimberly acted like that was how you do things, right?

She nodded. She already talked to you about pay?

Yeah, thirty dollars a trip, plus tips, right?

Whatever she told you, she said with a slight brow raise. Finally, she set the paper down with a sigh. Let me show you around. She pulled a key from the coil on her wrist and used it to lock the cash register, locked the screen of the boxy computer in front of her, then reached up to a shelf above her head, retrieving a metal ring of keys which she used to lock the filing cabinet to her left. After that, she tucked the keys in her pocket and lifted the flip-top edge of the counter, walking through the square opening.

This is where our guests check in. Most people do it online these days, but this is where they’ll come to sign their waivers if they haven’t already, rent lockers, and get their gifts or photos if they purchased a photo package. I take care of everything here. Her eyes widened. Oh, I’m Barbara, by the way. Don’t remember if I said that. Anyway, you don’t have to worry about any of this stuff. She pushed the glass door open, leading me back outside, and flipped the sign on the door from Come On In to Be Back Soon.

She led me past the large opening to the left of the door, where I could see various rafts, paddles, helmets, and life jackets. There were two women standing in the shaded area, talking quietly among themselves while they reached inside large, blue barrels, dipping paddles into a strange, blue liquid.

Here are two of our guides—Claudia— She gestured toward the first woman, with raven-colored hair tied into a long braid and olive skin. —and Kayla. The woman next to her, with her wild and wispy red hair tamed back into a bun and freckles sprinkled across her nose, waved with her free hand. Girls, this is Sarah.

Sloane, I corrected her, an apologetic smile on my lips as she looked at me like I must be the one who had it wrong.

Sloane, then. Anyway, they’re cleaning the equipment from their last ride. They’ll show you how to do all of that when you get ready to start. It’s not hard. She waved me on, and I followed her around the side of the barn. There was a single metal door at one end of the long wall farthest away from us, and a tall set of wooden stairs on our right that led to an identical door on the top floor.

And this is the apartment. She led me up the stairs, taking long pauses in between each step. When we’d reached the top, she was breathing so hard I was worried she wouldn’t make it back down. Don’t worry about me, these damn allergies always get my breathing all messed up. She pulled a used tissue from her pocket and blew her nose, then shoved it back in place. That’s Tennessee for you. Anyway—she pushed open the door—here we are.

We stepped inside the room, stale and humid air smacking me in the face. Reaching behind me, she flipped the switch on the wall and the room lit up, but not by much—a single, bare bulb hanging in the middle of the large room. The walls, floors, and ceilings were bare wood, studs and plywood, as far as the eye could see.

The two windows on either end of the room were open, box fans sitting in them, with what looked like sheets that had been cut in half hanging up as curtains, blowing forcefully in their breeze.

On the floor, there were six mattresses with no box springs. They had been spaced apart evenly and spread throughout the room, three on one of the side walls, two on the other, and one at the far end of the room, just under the far window.

One side of the room obviously belonged to the girls. Makeup, hair ties, acne cream, and perfumes littered the floor. There was a single, sunshine yellow mirror hanging between the beds and a straightener resting on a wooden crate they were using for a nightstand. I glanced through the piles of books and framed photographs next to their beds quickly before looking across the room.

The opposite wall looked like it belonged to the guys—the walls were undecorated and impersonal. There were car and sports magazines strewn about, along with several pairs of boxer shorts, a handheld video game console, and an open tub of hair gel.

There were stacks of clothes next to each bed and white, mesh bags for their dirty laundry. The space was small, they’d each been given no real room of their own.

When I’d accepted the job, they’d told me about the living conditions—that I’d be living in a shared, coed space—and I’d been fine with it. I’d lived in dorms with hardly any room and I was used to sharing space, but I’d never expected it to be so…rustic?

It reminded me of my attic growing up, the only true thing separating that from this was the finished flooring. The heat, the smell, and the bare walls were much the same.

In the far right corner, PVC pipe had been hung from the ceiling and there was a navy blue shower curtain which could be closed to give someone a small bit of privacy.

Everyone has their own bed—you can decorate your space however you like. You can see some of them have gotten creative with it. There’s not a ton of space, so you’ll just have to make it work. Keep your stuff wherever you want as long as it's not in anyone’s way, but if anything goes missing, that’s on you.

The way she said it made me wonder if things had gone missing before. There are lockers there. She pointed to a small, gray set of lockers to our left, across from the shower curtain. You can keep your valuables in them, but you have to buy your own lock. She squinted her eyes. You’re number two, I think, but the others can tell you for sure.

When she took a step forward, I followed her, stopping when we’d reached the bed under the window. I’d assumed it would be mine when we entered the room, as it was the only bed that had no decorations or personal items around it, just a simple dingy, yellow sheet and small, white pillow. In a way, I liked the idea of having a bit more space than the others, but I hated feeling so isolated. The other mattresses were just feet apart and directly across from each other, while I had the shower curtain and lockers separating me from them. It was enough that I already felt like the newbie; I couldn’t help feeling like I’d been purposefully separated from the group.

After all, there were three mattresses on the guys’ side. Why were there only two on the girls’ side? I forced the thought away. It didn’t matter. I was sure, with time, I’d appreciate the extra space anyway.

You can stack your clothes here or put them in a locker. Whatever you’d like. They trade off and take turns bringing everyone’s laundry to the laundromat once a week. Everybody gets a turn so you’re not all having to go at once, so when it’s your turn, they can show you where that is. She gestured toward the shower curtain. We hung this up to give you some privacy for changing clothes or whatever, but honestly, everyone’s just so used to everything here, I don’t know how much it gets used. We’re kind of like doctors. Once you’ve seen one bare ass, you’ve seen them all.

I felt mortified, but tried not to show it, breaking eye contact with her immediately and looking around. Um, where’s the bathroom?

We have one specifically for employees downstairs with a shower and commode. That was the door we passed at the bottom of the stairs. You have to share it with the others, so don’t plan on getting too long of a shower, but it’s there. There are two others with just the commode for the customers, but you’re welcome to use it in an emergency. It’s inside, past the office, but there’s a back entrance you can get to anytime. The kitchen’s there too, for your food and whatnot. There’s no air conditioning, obviously, she said, swiping her brow, but you’ll spend most of your day outside, and by the time you get home, you’ll be worn out. We keep the fans running nonstop, but be prepared to sweat off a few extra pounds this summer.

She eyed my waist in a way that had me feeling self-conscious, but looked away quick enough to deny it. And, I think that’s about it. You met Claudia and Kayla. The others are Gabe, Rob, and Josh. You’ll see them later tonight. Everyone’s real nice ’round here, so you’ll fit right in. Oh, I almost forgot…

She moved one of the sheets from the window over, pointing to the outlet on the wall. You can charge your phone or plug in an alarm clock here if you need. There are four plugs in here total, besides the ones the fans use, so you’ll have to share. Most of them don’t charge their phones because we don’t get much service out here, but feel free to do it if you want. ’Specially for an alarm. Although, she chuckled, I will let you know when it’s time to get up if you oversleep, don’t you worry. Do you have any questions?

Um, I don’t think so, I said softly. I guess I should just get my stuff then.

Yep, go ahead and start bringing it in and get all set up. I should get back to the office. If you have any questions, just find someone with a red life jacket. Orange are for customers, y’all get red. She nodded to herself. Okay, I’ll let you get to it.

With that, she was gone and I was alone in the stiflingly hot room wondering what I’d gotten myself into. I thought I could handle this. The job seemed like a dream—a carefree summer with no responsibility, affordable lodging, and the friends I was sure to make. But now, the doubt had begun to creep in.

How was I going to fit into a group that already obviously had a dynamic? They were halfway through the season, already into the flow of things, and what if they didn’t like me? What if they’d moved my bed away from them for a reason?

I shook my head. They would like me. I was nice enough. Fun. This summer was going to be all I’d dreamed of. It would be the chance to have one last bit of fun before the real world set in. One last hurrah after graduation.

I’d do it, I told myself. I’d make it work.

I had to.

For my parents. For myself.

I deserved this.

I ran a hand through my sweaty hair, fanning myself rapidly.

Welcome home, Sloane.

That was the moment I needed the warning. If it hadn’t come yet, during the drive in, I needed it right then. The hair-raising, spine-chilling moment that told me to bolt.

To run away and never look back.

But it never came. Or, if it did, it was drowned out by the voice in my head saying this would all be fine. I needed something to go right for me, and I was determined to make this opportunity work.

Looking back now, I’d do anything to have listened for the voice, quieted my mind and listened, just in case. I’d give anything to have gotten in that car and driven away, forgetting all about Widow Falls and its many secrets.

But I didn’t.

I stayed.

And what came next was my worst nightmare.

CHAPTER TWO

SLOANE

Ihad unpacked nearly everything from my car—not that there was much to unpack—when the door to the room opened for the first time. I spun around, staring at a man who couldn’t have been older than thirty with thick, dark brown hair and wild, green eyes. There was a pink scar that ran across his right cheek, and I watched it stretch as his jaw opened.

Whoa, hey, you’re not allowed to be in here, he said, looking out the door. This area is employees only.

Lucky for you, she’s an employee, came a girl’s voice, much to my relief, and in the next second, the redheaded woman from before entered the room. The one Barbara had introduced as Kayla.

A bald man with a graying beard filed in behind them. What’s going on?

This is the new girl, another faceless voice said. This was Claudia, who appeared in the room a second later, followed by a man with shaggy, blond hair who looked to be the youngest of all of the bunch.

Sloane, I filled in the blank, moving toward them with my hand outstretched.

Gabe, said the first man with the scar, taking my hand. His fingers were pruney from hours in the water and he smelled of sunscreen and sweat, even from where I was standing.

That’s Rob, Kayla told me, pointing to the bald man. Rob gave a quick nod of acknowledgment as Gabe released my hand. And that’s Josh. The blond man grinned with one side of his mouth.

Sup?

Nice to meet you all.

Well, we shouldn’t interrupt her. We all need to get changed anyway, Claudia said, her tone cool as she squatted next to her mattress and flipped through the pile of clothes.

They were all tanned, their hair stringy and frayed from the wind, water, and sun, and they’d brought with them the distinct, pungent smell of stale sweat, lake water, and bug spray.

Feeling as if I’d been dismissed, I made my way back to my mattress, continuing to sort and fold my clothes, stacking them into neat piles. My phone lay charging on my pillow, though Barbara had been right, there was very little service here. Still, I wanted it charged. Just in case.

Where are you from, Sloane? Kayla asked, taking a stack of clothes behind the shower curtain and sliding it shut. In the two-foot gap from the curtain to the floor, I watched her bright yellow shorts drop to the ground. I looked away.

Um, Colorado originally. But I moved to the area a few years ago for school and decided to make the move permanent.

Where’d you go to school? Gabe asked, pulling the stained, white T-shirt from his chest and wiping down with a towel from the floor. I forced my eyes away again, praying my face wasn’t as red as it felt. Snap out of it, Sloane.

UT.

Yeah? he asked, watching me carefully as he swiped the towel under his armpits. That’s where Rob went, too. Isn’t that right, Rob?

Again, Rob gave a small, sharp nod, then chuckled. Yeah, before either of you were born.

Don’t mind him, Gabe said. Rob likes to remind us all that he’s old enough to be our grandpa.

There was a small grumble of laughter throughout the room. It was obvious that he was much older than most of us. I’d guess everyone else was around my age—so early- to mid-twenties or early thirties at the latest—but I didn’t dare ask.

It’s a good school, I said, feeling like I should add to the silence, though I had no idea what to say next. I just graduated last month.

So, what brought you here? The shower curtain flung open and Kayla stepped out, dressed in a loose T-shirt and new shorts. Josh made a move for the curtain, but Claudia beat him to it, shutting it in his face as he rolled his eyes playfully. The move had seemed aggressive, but he didn’t appear upset. Instead, he lowered his head under the curtain and peered up.

Go on, then, he teased. I ain’t got all day.

Get a good look, perv, she said, a bite to her tone. He chuckled and stood back up before her shorts dropped to the floor.

Have you been a guide before? Kayla prompted, and I realized I still hadn’t answered her question, too distracted by the other happenings in the room.

No, I said, shaking my head. Still standing next to his bed, Gabe had dropped his shorts completely and was standing stark naked in the room, drying his lower half, apparently unfazed.

I knew my face must be as red as it felt at that point, as I locked my eyes on Kayla, refusing to look anywhere else. I used to raft back home and I was looking for a summer job while I try to figure out what’s next, so when I saw this listing, it seemed perfect. My eyes were burning, every muscle in my body straining not to look at Gabe’s still-naked figure just a few feet away.

Seeming to notice my discomfort, Kayla leered at him and said, Don’t mind him. Gabe used to be a male stripper. He doesn’t seem to care that no one here wants to see all that.

He swatted his butt playfully as he pulled on his shorts. Oh, you know you want me, Kay. He winked at her, then grinned at me. She shook her head, though I noticed the twinkle in her eyes.

You could pretend to be decent while our new guest gets acclimated.

I turned away, he said. She didn’t see the goods.

"Goods is a bit of a stretch." The shower curtain swung open again and Claudia appeared, having changed into clean clothes herself. She walked across the room, tossing her clothes into a