Moonlit Novella

Chapter Three

Her footsteps groaned under the aged, wooden boards as she descended the long staircase to the beach. The air around her was rich with fresh cider and burning firewood. The Ashford Hollow Fall Festival was now in full swing as the last streaks of gold and pink faded to midnight blue along the horizon. Warm light came from the lanterns swaying gently on posts near the piers and the bonfire that raged in the center of it all. 

People drifted past her, their chatter bright and unguarded. One man strode past juggling a massive coconut mug, several gift bags, and a plate stacked high with pumpkin pie and a powdered funnel cake. She felt an overwhelming tinge of nostalgia washing over her as she watched the crowd, inhaling a deep breath of the late autumn night. It reminded her of when she and Lily would go to the carnival as kids. Lily always made a beeline for the ricketiest ride that looked ready to implode at any moment. Her heart ached with the thought of it.

“Ivy!”

Rosalie’s voice cut through the hum of the crowd.

Her and Bea were standing in front of a makeshift archery booth, both cradling mugs of what she could only assume was the highly anticipated spiked cider. A patchy scarecrow sat as the centerpiece of the booth, its lopsided head topped with a gleaming red apple.

As Ivy made her way over, she caught sight of a police officer standing near the edge of the beach, arms crossed over his chest. He was watching over the crowd with a measured focus.

Then, for a moment, his eyes locked onto hers.

Something about the way he held her gaze made her stomach tighten, like he already knew exactly who she was. 

Then he moved on, shifting his attention elsewhere.

---

“Wow, that thing is actually kind of creepy.” Ivy studied the scarecrow’s uneven button eyes, the wavy thread stitched across its face as if it was grimacing in pain.

Bea chuckled lightly, “Hey! My kids worked hard on that.”

Ivy lifted a brow. “Well, it definitely captures the spirit of Halloween.”

“Next year, I’ll have them make one that smiles and waves.” Bea smirked, rolling her eyes.  

Rosalie laughed, and explained, “Bea runs the art studio downtown. She has weekend classes for the kids.”

Before Ivy could respond, a sudden chorus of cheers erupted.

An arrow shot clean through the apple, knocking it straight off the scarecrow’s lumpy head.

Ivy could have sworn she saw the thing sag in relief, the arrow just narrowly missing the spot between its shifty, button eyes. 

The thought sent a shiver down her arms.

---

At some point, Ivy found herself drawn to the water’s edge. The roaring bonfire at the heart of the festival sent whipping flames curling up into the night sky, leaving smoke to drift between the stars. Looking out onto the lake, she watched the fire’s muted reflection twist across the calm waters, stretching and shrinking from shape to shape. Stuck in some sort of trance, she watched as the flames moved to form a face, like one of those ancient sacrificial gods. It might have been trying to say something, its wide mouth moving with the current.

“Enjoying the view?” A voice came from behind her.

Ivy jumped, placing a hand over her racing heart as she turned in the direction of the disembodied voice.

Then, she saw him.  

Her first thought was how terribly handsome he was. He stood tall and lean, amber light from the fire flickering against his shadowed features. She caught a glimpse of a sharp jawline. Then, the way his dark lashes framed storm-grey eyes. Eyes that were fixed on her.

She broke her gaze, trailing back to the lake, “I like how quiet it is over here.”

She could hear the water lapping softly against the nearby rocks, the wind whispering through the trees behind them.

He paused as if listening to it with her, then said, “Not much for crowds, then?”

With a silent step, he stood beside her at the lazy shoreline.

“Only in short bursts.” A small smile played on her lips.

He tilted his head slightly, like she’d said something unexpected.

“What?” She asked, her smile growing.

“Nothing.” He said, his eyes flickered over her, thoughtfully. “You’re just… interesting.”

Ivy felt her heart speed up a little, warmth creeping into her cheeks. He looked as if he might say more before-

“Didn’t know you were back in town.”

The words cut through the air like a storm rolling in.

“Chief.”

Ivy turned over her shoulder to see the police officer she’d noticed earlier. A wave of unease washed over her, like she’d wandered somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be and had just been caught. Tension grew thick between them. She took a small step back, removing herself from whatever was unfolding.

Both men flicked a glance in her direction. She quickly averted her gaze, staring instead at the subtle waves rolling up the sand.

“I don’t need any trouble from you.” The officer’s voice was low, controlled, but edged with a warning.

“And she’s new here. Doesn’t need to get caught up in whatever you’ve got going on.”

Ivy’s brows furrowed. How had she even gotten involved in this conversation?

“Excuse me, but I don’t know either of you.” She interjected, crossing her arms.

“Let’s keep it that way.” The officer barely spared her a glance, his ashy-blonde hair tousled from the lake breeze.

Before she had a chance to reply, the other man muttered, “See you around.”

His gaze lingered on her face for a moment before turning back to the officer.

That was clearly my cue to leave.

Ivy hesitated only briefly before turning away. The tension in the air was suffocating, thick with history she didn’t understand.

She stepped back into the warmth of the festival, the distant crackle of the bonfire and the cheerful hum of voices pulling her away from whatever had just happened.

Children ran in chaotic circles around the fire, taking turns stopping and shoveling sand in the other’s direction. Down by the fall-themed tiki bar, Rosalie, Bea, and Graham sat around ridiculous faux coconut mugs, sipping their drinks beneath the glow of lanterns strung through the tree line.

Rosalie was giggling, the oversized pink straw in her drink threatening to topple out. Across from her, Graham’s face was red, his hands moving wildly as he argued some probably meaningless but passionate point

Ivy pulled up a stool beside them. “I just had a strange encounter.”

“Aliens?” Rosalie asked, brows raised. The looping straw took up half her face.

“Not that strange, but close.” Ivy recounted the story: the mysterious man who had struck up conversation with her down by the water, and then the sudden confrontation from the police officer. When she finished, all three of them silently exchanged looks.

“What?” Ivy prodded, looking between them.

“Ivy… It sounds like you’re describing Elias.” Bea was the first to break the silence.

“He’s bad news.” Graham cut in, taking a long sip of his drink.

Ivy frowned. “The officer made it sound like they have history.”

“Chief Mercer.” Graham corrected, “He’s not just an officer; he’s the Chief of Police here.”

Oh.

Ivy let that sink in before asking, “What did Elias do?”

She directed the question at Graham. He knew the most town gossip, probably more than the other two combined.

“Got in a fight about, maybe five years ago. A bad one.” Graham swirled the ice in his drink, as if pulling the memory from somewhere deep. “Mercer came to break it up, but… things got messy.” He paused a moment, a look of distaste settling on his face, before going on, “Chief said he looked possessed or something. Sent that other guy to the hospital. He’s been gone since then.”

“I heard he cut the other guy,” Bea added.

Ivy’s stomach twisted. “Cut him?”

“Yeah,” Bea confirmed, pulling her feet up onto her stool.

Ivy stared at them. Then, slowly, she turned her head toward the water’s edge, where she had just been standing alone with him.

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah.” Bea made a face. Yikes.

“The handsome ones are always crazy.” Rosalie mused.

“It’s hard being the only exception.” Graham sighed dramatically, earning a round of laughter.

Ivy’s smile lingered only for a moment before fading.

Elias.

She remembered his dusk-grey eyes, looking at her in a way that made her head spin.

The way he had spoken to her, the ease in his presence. He hadn’t felt like the man they were describing.

But then again, she had only just met him.

Still, something about him made her want to know more.