Dark Water: A Siren Novel (18 page)

And the surprising thing was I did.

He leaned forward, pushing me against the bridge. I released his sweater just long enough to put both hands on the wall and lift myself up. My legs squeezed his waist, his hands gripped my thighs. His mouth moved down my neck, across the bare skin above my tank top. I wound my fingers through his hair, bringing his face even closer. He slid one hand across my waist and up my back, took the collar of my jacket and tugged until the denim slid down my arm. As his lips brushed my shoulder, his fingers traveled back up my arm, pulled the thin tank-top strap aside. His other hand inched up my right thigh, under the cuff of my shorts. I tightened my legs around him and kissed wherever I could reach—his neck, his jaw, the soft space beneath his ear.

I’m okay
, I thought, preparing to answer the question I knew was coming.
I’m amazing, actually. This … you … it’s exactly what I want. It’s
all
that I want
.

Only, the question, the one Simon always asked, no matter how many times we were together, never came.

Either I was even more convincing than I realized, or someone else had become braver, too.

“You two aware your rides left without you?”

Simon leapt back. I covered my mouth, as if to erase evidence of what we’d just been doing, and then hopped down from the wall.

Jack sat on a tall horse at the end of the bridge. He nodded up the trail, where our horses were strolling back the way we came.

“Might want to catch up,” he said. “We got half a dozen employees looking for you, and a couple of empty horses won’t do much to ease their worries.”

With that, he turned and galloped away—but not without giving us a quick wink first.

The air was still for a second, and then Simon and I cracked up. The release felt so good, so energizing, I didn’t even worry about what kind of trouble we’d likely get into when we returned to the farm.

“Come here,” Simon said when we calmed down. He held out one hand, which I took, and pulled me into a loose hug. “Vanessa …”

When he didn’t say anything else, I nodded against his chest. “I know. Me, too.”

He kissed the top of my head, the tip of my nose, my lips. Softly. Delicately. Tenderly.

And then we retrieved our horses and headed for the farm, where we didn’t get into trouble—or a warm invitation to return.

We took our time returning to Winter Harbor. We drove around a while, grabbed some lunch, wandered through a few antique shops, and stopped for a leisurely dinner. We kept the conversation light and never referred to last summer, fall, or even week. For my part, those topics barely crossed my mind.

I didn’t think either of us wanted the day to end, but we agreed not worrying our parents was essential if we were going to have another like it. So when the sun started to set, we headed east.

The fact that Simon wanted to spend more time together was so reassuring that when he offered to drive back, I gave him the keys. It had been twelve hours since my swim, and though I’d continued to sneak sips of salt water, my energy was steadily waning. Plus, it had been such a full day, I thought my fatigue could be easily attributed to everything we’d done.

I must’ve dozed off at some point, because in one instant, I was watching the sky turn purple over a field of flowers, and in the next, I was wide awake, staring at flashing red lights.

“What is it?” I asked, sitting up straight. “Where are we?”

“It looks like an accident.” Simon’s voice was tense. He inched the Jeep forward in the slow-moving line of traffic. “And we just crossed the Winter Harbor border.”

Accidents happened all the time. I
knew
they happened all the time, to ordinary people for ordinary reasons. Which was why I managed to stay calm as we passed two police cars and an ambulance, and neared the circle of EMTs administering CPR.

But then one of the EMTs moved. The plastic mask came off the girl’s mouth and her head dropped to one side.

And Carla’s lifeless eyes met mine.

C
HAPTER 14
 

“That made it to the
Herald
Web site in less than twelve
hours,” Paige said, scrolling to the top of the page. “First-time visitors would never guess that until last summer, the only thing on this page was a cartoon crab telling you to pick up the paper in town.”

“That’s it?” I asked. “That’s all you have to say?”

She closed her laptop and sat back. “Of course not. It’s awful. Tragic. And it totally freaks me out. But if I talk about how much it freaks me out, that’ll just make me freak out even more. And it’s too early in the summer to completely lose it.”

I glanced around to make sure we were still alone on the employee break deck. “But you knew her. Did she ever, I don’t know, say anything to suggest—”

“That she was being chased by evil sirens? No. And she only worked here a few days and spent half the time frantically running around and the other half crying. The most I learned was that she has an expensive addiction to Kleenex.” Paige looked down at her lap, then toward the harbor. “She
had
an expensive addiction to Kleenex.”

I followed her gaze. The water was calm, flat. The cloudless sky was a brilliant blue. Like yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that, the weather in Winter Harbor was perfect. This should be reassuring, since last summer’s victims, Justine included, had always been found after severe thunderstorms … but it also made the situation even more puzzling.

“What about you?” Paige turned back. “I mean, it’s bad enough that you actually saw her lying there, in the middle of the road, but then to read that online … with your sister’s
name …” She pushed her sunglasses on top of her head and leaned toward me. “Are you okay? Do you want to take the day off? Spend some time with your parents?”

“Thank you, but, no. I’m fine. I feel a little guilty, but otherwise I’m fine.”

“Guilty? What for?”

“For the very first thought that ran through my head when I got a good look at the victim last night.”

Paige put one hand over mine on the table.

“It’s a terrible, tragic thing no matter what, just like you said, and—”

“It’s okay, Vanessa.”

“I was relieved it was a girl.” The words flew from my mouth. “It’s awful, I know, but—”

“It’s not awful. It’s understandable. I’d think the exact same thing.”

I sighed. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, although I’m not saying it because I think it’s what you want to hear.” She paused. “But you know other people will probably make similar connections. That piece on the
Herald
Web site is just the beginning. The bigger news channels might not pick it up right away, but at least around here, people will be talking, comparing …”

“Like, Carla to Justine? Since she was the first victim and only girl?”

Paige’s face scrunched in apology.

“I know. But there are some major differences, the biggest
of which being that Carla wasn’t found near water. Also, there’s a sharp turn by that intersection, so it’s very possible it was only a terrible hit-and-run. And because despite what I thought last night, you and I know that there’s no chance anything like last summer can happen again.” I shrugged. “So let them talk.”

She squeezed my hand. “Fearless. Just like handsome, perceptive Mr. Science Guy said.”

I drained my iced coffee, like it would stop the heat from spreading across my face. “Speaking of, I should probably get downstairs. He texted this morning to say he and Caleb were coming for breakfast today in addition to lunch. And don’t worry—they’ll pay for this meal. I’m sure he wanted to see for himself that I made it here in one piece.”

“Please. If Simon wants filet mignon instead of bacon on his egg sandwich, he can have it—and free of charge. Anyone who makes my Vanessa as happy as he makes you is entitled to whatever he wants.” A smile played on her lips as she stood up and gathered her laptop and folders. “And Caleb’s okay. By association, of course.”

“Of course.”

Her smile grew. I was about to ask if I’d missed something when her smile disappeared and she looked at me, instantly serious.

“I’m sorry, by the way. For the other night at Murph’s. I never apologized and I really wanted you to know how bad I felt afterward. I don’t know what got into me … I guess it was just too
much, you know? Seeing all those pictures and thinking about all that stuff again?”

I stood, too. “It’s okay. I understand.”

She opened her arms. We hugged across the table.

“See?” She sniffed. “I’m about one tragedy shy of a total meltdown.”

“Then it’s a good thing this most recent tragedy will also be the last.”

We went downstairs and parted ways in the kitchen. Paige headed for Louis, who appeared to be having his own mini meltdown by the fryer, and I veered toward the dining room.

“Vanessa! Thank goodness!”

I froze by the bar. The swinging door swung back, bumping me forward. Natalie took my movement as some kind of offer and thrust a coffeepot at me as she breezed past.

“Table eight needs to be topped off, ten needs another place setting, and four’s out of sugar.”

“Okay, but I’m not—”

“Oh, and do you know how to work the air-conditioning? It’s kind of hot with all those bodies in there! Thanks!”

Still holding the coffeepot, I scanned the room and counted.

Eight tables. There were twenty tables in the dining room … and only eight were empty. This was easily the busiest Betty’s had been all summer.

Dishes clattered in the kitchen behind me. Voices grew louder. I bolted, starting with the topping off of table eight.

“About time,” one man grunted, as I filled his cup.

“Sorry for the wait,” I said. “We’re a little understaffed this morning.”

“Don’t mind him,” said the man’s friend. “He usually takes his coffee one way: burned and from the gas-station snack store.”

My eyes fell to their hands as I smiled. The first man wore a wedding ring. The second didn’t.

“Can I get you anything else?” I asked.

“A phone number would be nice.” The single guy drained the coffee I’d just poured. Grinning, he held out his cup. I refilled it.

“Your server will be with you shortly.”

“No rush.” His grin widened. “When the view’s this nice, I like to enjoy it as long as I can.” I forced a smile and turned around. Aware of his eyes on my back as I left, I dashed to the bar and grabbed a silverware bundle and sugar bowl. I delivered both to their respective tables, too quickly to receive potential attention, and continued to the lobby where several customers waited to be seated. I snatched menus from the hostess stand and showed the customers—three parties, all male—to their tables. Glimpsing my reflection in the mirror over the darkened fireplace, I saw perspiration already lining my forehead and remembered Natalie’s comment about the air-conditioning. The thermostat was on the other side of the room, next to the kitchen door; I ran there next, sticking to the room’s perimeter to keep a safe distance from my admirer.

I’d just lowered the temperature from seventy-five, which Paige had said was as low as we could go for money-saving
purposes, to seventy-two, when my cell phone buzzed in my shorts pocket.

Caleb overslept. Be there soon. –S

I texted back.

Take your time. I’ll be here
.

“Bottomless beverages.”

I looked up. Paige stood next to me, hands on her hips, eyes on the crowd, apron around her waist.

“What?” I’d heard her; I just didn’t know what she meant.

“Natalie’s dad promised some sort of deal to anyone who got here before eight. So let’s give them free drinks and unlimited refills of whatever they want—coffee, tea, OJ, soda. And if they ask to fill up their thermoses before they head out on the water, let’s do that, too.”

Something—suspicion, wariness, envy—simmered low in my belly. “What do you mean, Natalie’s dad? What does he have to do with this?”

She took an elastic band from her wrist, gathered her dark hair in a ponytail. “She and I brainstormed a few ideas to boost business the other day, some of which she shared with her dad, who apparently shared them with the entire marina. I’d be mad … but
look
at this place.” She turned to me, blue eyes bright. “Maybe we’ll be okay after all.”

I opened my mouth to ask more questions, but stopped when she took a pen and pad of paper from her apron and held them toward me.