
SECRETS BENEATH THE WAVES
Joy Daniel · Ongoing · 35.2k Words
Introduction
Chapter 1
Maya's POV
The gun was pointed right at my chest.
I threw myself behind my car door just as the bullet shattered my back window. Glass pieces flew everywhere. My heart pounded so hard I could hear it in my ears. This wasn't meant to happen. Not here. Not in this quiet little town.
But let me back up. This morning started different.
I was driving my beat-up Honda through heavy fog when I first saw Millbrook Bay. The GPS lady had been my only friend for the past six hours. "You have arrived at your destination," she said in her robot voice. I turned off the engine and sat there for a moment.
This was it. My new life.
Three months ago, I was Detective Maya Chen with the LAPD. I had a partner named Danny who made terrible jokes and brought me coffee every morning. We were working on a big case about missing kids when everything went wrong. Danny got shot because I made a bad choice. He died in my arms, and I couldn't save him.
After that, I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. I kept seeing Danny's face every time I closed my eyes. My boss said I needed time off, but I knew I was done being a cop. I quit and decided to become a private detective somewhere far from Los Angeles.
I picked Millbrook Bay because it looked peaceful in the pictures online. A small town by the ocean where nothing bad ever happened. Perfect for someone like me who needed to forget about bad things.
The fog was so thick I could barely see the street signs. I drove slowly past small houses with pretty lawns and fishing boats in the harbor. Everything looked like a picture. Old people walked their dogs. Kids rode bikes. It was exactly what I needed.
But then I noticed something weird. Every person I passed stopped and stared at my car. Not just a quick look, but a long, hard stare. Like they were remembering my face. A woman with a baby stroller actually pulled out her phone and took a picture of my license plate.
That made my detective brain wake up. Why would outsiders care about a new person in town?
I parked in front of a bakery with a "For Rent" sign in the upstairs window. The smell of fresh bread made my stomach growl. I hadn't eaten since yesterday. The bakery owner was a short woman with gray hair and kind eyes.
"You must be the one calling about the apartment," she said when I walked in.
"How did you know?"
She looked awkward. "Word spreads fast in small towns. I'm Mrs. Patterson. You want to see the place?"
The room was tiny but clean. Two rooms above the bakery with big windows facing the street. Perfect for a small detective office. The rent was cheap, which was good because I didn't have much money left.
"I'll take it," I said.
Mrs. Patterson looked surprised. "Don't you want to think about it? Maybe look at other places first?"
"This is great. I can move in today."
She gave me the keys but wouldn't look me in the eyes. "Welcome to Millbrook Bay, dear. I hope you'll be happy here."
But her voice sounded like she didn't think I would be.
I spent the afternoon moving my stuff from the car. I didn't have much. Just clothes, my laptop, and a box of police files I probably shouldn't have kept. Every time I carried something upstairs, I saw people watching me from across the street. They pretended to be doing other things, but I knew they were looking.
By evening, I had hung my "Maya Chen - Private Detective" sign in the window. It felt good to see my name up there. Like maybe I could start over. Maybe I could help people again without anyone getting hurt.
I was making coffee in my tiny kitchen when I heard conversations outside. I looked through the window and saw a group of people gathered on the path. They were all looking up at my flat and talking in whispers.
One man pointed at my sign and shook his head. A woman covered her mouth like she was shocked. An old man in a fishing hat said something that made everyone look scared.
I opened my window to hear better.
"...just like the last one," the woman was saying.
"Shh!" the old man hissed. "She might hear you."
"But what if she finds out about—"
"Nobody talks about that. Ever. You know what happened to the Chen woman who asked questions."
My blood turned to ice. Chen woman? That was my last name. What Chen woman?
I leaned out further to hear more, but the group broke up quickly. People scattered in different ways like they were running from something. In seconds, the street was empty.
I sat down hard on my couch. My hands were shaking. What did that mean? What Chen woman? What questions? What happened to her?
I grabbed my laptop and looked for "Chen woman Millbrook Bay" but found nothing. I tried "missing person Chen California" and got thousands of hits. None of them seemed right.
My phone rang, making me jump. Unknown number.
"Hello?"
Heavy breathing on the other end. Then a woman's voice, barely a whisper: "You need to leave. Tonight. Before they know you're here."
"Who is this? What are you talking about?"
"Your sister tried to warn people too. Look what happened to her."
The line went dead.
My sister? My sister Lisa died in a car crash in San Francisco two years ago. What did she have to do with Millbrook Bay? I never even told her I was coming here.
I tried calling the number back, but it went straight to voicemail. No word, just a beep.
My hands were shaking so bad I could barely hold the phone. I walked to my window and looked down at the empty street. Was someone out there watching me right now?
That's when I saw the car parked across the street. Dark openings. Engine running. It hadn't been there an hour ago.
As I watched, the car door opened slowly.
A figure in black got out and started walking toward my building.
I ran to turn off all my lights and grabbed the baseball bat I always kept by my bed. My heart was pounding like Danny's did right before he died.
The footsteps stopped right below my window.
Then I heard the sound that made my blood freeze.
Click.
The sound of a gun being fired.
That's when I knew this quiet little town was about to become very dangerous. And somehow, I was already in the middle of it.
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