The Caraway Estate - A Phsycological Thriller by Author Rebecca Helmer

The Synopsis

Shipwrecked and found nearly dead on the shore of a mansion in Bar Harbor, Maine, Natalie is rescued by Adam, the charismatic, yet elusive manager of The Caraway Estate. As she is captivated by the enchantment of Adam and his lavish life, she also becomes skeptical of the identity of the elusive, wealthy man he works for. As she presses to learn of Adam's untold past, she is overwhelmed by his harrowing, dark history. Natalie soon realizes that the Estate's perfect setting is shrouded in deceit in this psychological mystery thriller. It's the perfect hideaway, until she tried to escape.

 

 

Chapter One

        It was never supposed to happen the way it did. Nobody was supposed to die. Nobody needed to get hurt.
        Natalie peered upward at the sails of the catamaran, her eyes squinting toward the sun, bright against wide, empty sky. She let her hand fall over the side, fingers tickling in the ocean mist. A thin coat of sea salt had dried and dusted the back of her ribs. Her ivory flesh had not seen sun in too long to remember. It was starting to freckle slightly across her bony forearms. She disliked her freckles. They were cute, people always told her. She didn't want to be cute. If she was honest, she might admit that she wanted to look like the other girl, arm's length across the deck.
        Brooke had an otherworldly beauty, lain out on an oversized beach towel in a scant bubble gum pink bikini. Ribs protruding under endowed breasts, spread wide by gravity and wiggling with the current. A mess of blonde hair spilled out from a wide brimmed hat, restless in the wind like a Midwest wheat field.
        As if sensing a pair of eyes on her, Brooke rolled her head to the side, and smiled peacefully back at Natalie. The sun checkered on her face through the criss-cross of her hat briefly, just before she rolled over onto her belly, and reached to take Natalie's hand.
        "I'm glad you finally came out here with me," Brooke said, whimsically.
        "Me too," Natalie admitted.
        "I thought I'd never get you free from all your boring classes."
        Natalie laughed, "I may have thought the same thing for a while."
        " Well, this trip can celebrate all your hard work to finish your program," Brooke said cheerily, "and all the people you're going to help."
        "I hope so."
        " I know so. You'll do great."
        "We can be celebrating you too, you know... You and Troy." Natalie said, poking her gently in the arm. "He's so lucky to have you."
        "He is lucky!" Brooke laughed boastfully, and they broke into giggling like they did back in college. It was stifled when Troy emerged from the cabin in green striped board shorts and a baseball cap, wielding three cold drinks. He was muscular and attractive, his dark hair well-manicured, even on the ocean. His father came from New England money, which meant he had some growing up to do, Natalie thought, but he had goodness in him. If Brooke loved him, she would too.
        "What are you ladies laughing about up here?"
        "Nothing that would interest you," Brooke quipped.
        "I doubt that very much," Troy said, handing drinks across the deck, his loose shirt billowing in a strong headwind.
        Natalie quietly observed Troy quietly from half-closed eyes shaded in sunglasses. She knew exactly nothing about sailing, and wouldn't even be on board if it hadn't been for Brooke's persistence. She watched him curiously, as he tugged on ropes of tethered sails, lifting a smaller sail alongside the main sail. It whipped excitedly, and there was an instantaneous lift.
        The Atlantic was calm with a consistent southwest wind, ideal for sailing. Glassy waters were crowned by a radiant sun in a cloudless sky. The catamaran etched through the surface, the bow whispering a salty mist. The main sail billowed and it gathered speed. June had finally begun warming up after a numbing winter. It was a beautiful day for sailing. A perfect day.
        But good weather shouldn't be trusted as an indicator of good fortune.
        The wind drove them steadily southwest in the ocean's current. "We're coming up on Blue Hill Bay," Troy called out, as they entered a wide channel that flanked a spattering of islands off the coast.
        They rounded the bend of Bar Harbor. Natalie knew as well as anyone in the area, the small, quiet town on Mount Desert Island quietly harbored private, luxurious homes of the incredibly wealthy, including at least four of Fortune 500's richest people. Inevitably, people would sometimes sail the perimeter, just to ogle, as they were.
        "Look at these houses!" Brooke gasped. She sat up on slender thighs and leaned toward the starboard side to get a closer view, gawking up at the architecture. Opulent mansions nestled in the bluffs. They glided past at just a distance to avoid being obnoxious.
        Natalie followed their gaze, shielding her eyes from the sun. She cast her hair from her face, and it whipped obediently behind her. "Incredible," Natalie quietly admitted, if only to herself.
        "Most of these are only summer homes too." Troy said. "I wonder who lives in them."
        "People much more important than us, darling," Brooke replied, with an exaggerated air of aristocracy.
        Troy pulled his bikini-clad fiancé to him by the waist. "Don't worry, baby," he said, pressing his lips on her neck, "I'll buy you one."
        She squealed and reciprocated his groping. "Your daddy's not that rich!" She giggled.
       Natalie felt a familiar twinge of awkwardness, though she should have grown accustomed to Wild Brooke, after rooming with her. Natalie had been broke in college, and had few options. It was a means to an end. The apartment complex on West Elm had been the most affordable on campus. Natalie learned too late, that it was also one of the hottest places for parties.
       They became the strangest breed of best friends. Brooke was contagious. When she came giggling back to the apartment with various boys, Natalie took her studies elsewhere, generally unperturbed. She discovered numerous retreats to hide out on campus. She sought out her fellow introverted bookworms, beasts of her own kind.
       Now again, Natalie ignored the pair kissing noisily nearby, and marveled at the homes on the bluff. Even more so, she marveled at how insignificant she felt in the sudden gust of salty air, uncertain of her next move in life. Under the shadow of the impossibly rich mansions dotting the hillside, an unsettling feeling of anxiety came over her. She had always had a lofty goal laid out in front of her, throughout her course in education, but now, for the first time in a decade, she had no distinct plan. She didn't like the feeling of the unknown.
       As she vacillated between thoughts of the future and the past, the mansions seemed to do the opposite. With their foundations rooted so solidly in the rocky eastern coast, they loomed intimidatingly above her, even their positions saying, I'm higher than you. I'm better than you. You will never have me. Natalie knew it. She would never be rich or powerful, but that was never what she wanted. She wanted to help people, the most broken, helpless, pathetic people, who had suffered beyond what a human should endure. People who had gone through hell and back.
       People just like her.
       Following an hour or two of circumnavigating Mount Desert Island and sailing out to the open sea, the three prepared to return to the harbor for dinner. Troy turned the vessel hard for the shore. The wind picked up, and carried them effortlessly through soft, rolling waves. Natalie realized, in the beauty of the rocking ocean that she was maybe – yes, a bit lonely. She suddenly felt like the third wheel. A gentle nudge in the arm tore her away from her thoughts.
       "What are you so quiet for?" Brooke suddenly giggled beside her.
       Natalie laughed softly. "I'm always quiet, aren't I?" Natalie retorted.
       "True. Such a deep thinker. One of the greats."
       Natalie smirked and rolled her eyes. "Ha."
       "I'm serious," Brooke insisted. "I told you that's why we're on this trip. To celebrate you. Besides, I'm going to need that brain of yours. Especially when we have our marriage problems." She tucked her legs beside her and looked out to sea, more contemplative than was usual for her.
       "Don't say that. You two are perfect for each other," Natalie said matter-of-factly. "And this is just as much a celebration of your engagement. If I had any money yet, I would be footing the bill."
       "Oh, you'll be successful soon enough, Doctor," Brooke replied, "And then you can spend your life paying off your student loans," she laughed.
       Natalie halfway heard, but her eyes were fixated on the shore. "You see that house right there?" she finally asked, pointing to a distant mansion on the horizon, bright white, tall and massive. "I bet that's where you'll end up."
       Brooke cast her eyes over the blue, and laughed wholeheartedly. "I like that idea."
       "And you'll have three children."
       "Oh! Three?"
       "Two boys and one girl. At least. They'll be gorgeous, funny, and smart, just like their mom and dad."
       It was a euphoric fantasy, one that matched the deepening violet-blue of the sky. For a moment, life seemed just right. Brooke smiled pensively, and exhaled, gazing out into a wide open future.
       Natalie was brought back to her own unknown. A vast open road. She had an aching, a yearning for something to fill her bones. It was all probably normal. A typical post-doctorate slump.
       Natalie sat upright and grabbed a strappy dress to throw over her sun-kissed shoulders before they reached the harbor. She tied back her wind-whipped hair. The apples of her cheeks were hot. She would have a slight sunburn tomorrow.
Troy and Brooke chatted a ways off. Something about deciding between clam chowder or sturgeon for dinner when they got back to the harbor. If only that was their problem. In a moment, everything changed.
Something hit the boat hard.

 

The Dream

It all started as a dream.

When Rebecca Helmer began penning the complex adult mystery thriller, The Caraway Estate, she had no plans to write a best seller. However, after awaking from a dream one Halloween night, she was haunted with Natalie's story. She saw visions of underground waterways, a world of mystery and intrigue, and the unforeseen turning point that would change everything. Helmer was flooded with the words that came spilling out on paper, until the novel had been recorded. The first draft of the book was written in thirty days.

The story grips the reader from the first page. The unexpected plot twists and turns throughout will keep readers on the edge of their seat, with an incessant desire to know what lies just around the corner in the compelling new novel, The Caraway Estate.

 

The Author

Rebecca Helmer was awarded the Art Bervin Award for her outstanding collegiate critical writing, and was the only author of those reviewed to be awarded all perfect scores.

She is an award-winning singer-songwriter and recording artist, and she currently resides in Idaho with her husband and children.

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Contact rebecca @ rebecca helmer . com