Dark Water: A Siren Novel (34 page)

Until, several long seconds later, he smiled.

I stopped. The ocean fell silent. Colin continued toward me, arms outstretched, looking happier than I’d ever seen him. His
hand had just grazed my stomach when the light in his eyes went out. His entire body fell limp.

At the same time, somewhere in the back of my mind, Paige’s voice was pleading.

Vanessa, help me. Please. Now
.

I’m at Betty’s … and he’s after me
.

C
HAPTER 25
 

I
TRIED TO SAVE HIM
. I brought him back to shore. I pounded his chest and forced air into his lungs. Each time I pulled away and saw his lips turned up, I thought he was coming to, that his face was contorting as his body struggled to hang on … but he was only smiling.

“No.”
I squeezed his nose between two fingers and pressed my mouth to his. His chest rose, fell, and stopped. I did it again, and again.

He grinned the whole time.

Vanessa … please hurry.…

I breathed more. Pounded harder. Rain poured down, blending with the tears streaming down my face, but I didn’t feel it. I didn’t feel anything.

Neither did Colin. Every few seconds I checked for a pulse, but his veins were still. His heart was done.

Oh my God … he’s in here.…

I sat up and looked down the beach, in the direction of the restaurant. It was a few miles away, so I wouldn’t have been able to see it on a clear day, but I hoped Paige could somehow sense me tuning in, reaching out. I pictured her pretty smile, imagined her laugh, and answered.

Where?

I waited. When all I heard was the rain thrashing and water roaring onto shore, I tried again.

Keep talking, Paige. I’ll be there as soon as I can
.

Still listening for her, I leaned toward Colin. I lowered my mouth to his ear and spoke softly.

“I don’t know how you were involved with those girls … but I do know what you just tried to do to me.” I brushed at my eyes, which wouldn’t stop crying. “And I’m still sorry. You would’ve faced consequences eventually … but not this. Not from me.”

Unable to look at him, I kept my gaze averted as I climbed to my feet, pulled off my soaked denim jacket, and used it to cover his vacant eyes. I offered one more silent apology, then shoved my feet into my sandals, which were still on the beach where I’d left them before entering the water, and ran up the steep path to the parking lot.

The next several minutes were a blur. I reached the rain-filled Jeep and called the police to report a found body, give them the location, and tell them something was going on at Betty’s. I called Simon and left a hurried message saying that I was fine but Paige was in trouble, and asked him to go to the restaurant as soon as possible. As I started the car and gunned it
backward, I called my parents and assured them that I was okay and would be home as soon as I could.

I didn’t think about what I’d just done. I couldn’t. If I did, I’d stop. I’d sit right there in my car with the top down, and let the freshwater pummel my skin until it began to slowly poison my body.

And Paige needed me. I couldn’t save Colin … or Justine or Charlotte … but I could still save my best friend.

I was so focused on this, I almost peeled out of the lot without noticing the car parked between a Dumpster and a sand dune. When I saw it, I hit the brake so hard, the Jeep lunged forward.

It was an empty orange pickup. With fishing poles hanging out the back. The fact that Paige was in danger even though Colin could no longer hurt her meant he hadn’t acted alone the past few weeks. Did he have help here, too? Were the fishermen lurking somewhere around the lot, waiting to finish the job?

Vanessa!

I shook my head and hit the gas. The tires spun in mud before gaining traction and shooting backward. I flew out onto the road, slid into a turn, and headed for town.

The storm worsened as I drove. The sky turned as black as night and the rain was a thick gray wall my headlights couldn’t break through. I was actually grateful for the lightning, which managed to illuminate the darkness—and the road—every few seconds. I gripped the steering wheel and stared straight ahead, thinking only of Paige. When my cell phone rang, I checked
the number on the screen; but it was only my parents, so I let it go to voice mail.

Nearing town, I spoke again.

I’m almost there. Are you okay?

There was a long beat. I held my breath as I stared through the blurred windshield, following the fuzzy double yellow line. I was about to repeat myself, louder, when she answered.

Yes
, she said, voice trembling.
But he’s here
.

Who? Where?

She spoke again but her voice was lost in an explosion of thunder. A shard of lightning lit up the sky before striking a tree to my right, splitting it in two. Seeing the halved trunk tilting toward the road, I punched the gas—but it was no use. The tree gained momentum on the way down and hit the pavement before I could pass. I skidded to a stop, avoiding a collision by inches, then backed up and tried to go around it.

But it was too long. It blocked the entire road and its top branches tangled in the woods twenty feet away. I threw open the door, jumped out of the car, and ran to the tree, determined to create a passable lane. I leaned into it with all my weight; it rocked slightly, but didn’t budge. Because it sat at an angle, it was too tall to simply drive over. On the other side, the road remained dark. This was the kind of storm people pulled over to wait out, so chances were slim that anyone besides the police would come this way and, when they couldn’t get through, give me a ride back to town.

I was still a mile away.

Inside my head, Paige whimpered softly.

There was only one option. I moved the Jeep to the side of the road. Grabbed my phone, purse, and keys. And ran.

My legs pumped beneath me. My feet flew over rocks and twigs. My heart beat quickly but consistently. Before I knew it, the dim lights of Main Street appeared.

Are you still at Betty’s?
I asked Paige.

Yes …

Where?

In the—

She fell silent.

Paige? Are you okay?

Nothing.

I moved faster, sprinting through town. As Betty’s came into view, I grabbed my phone from my purse and tried Simon again. He didn’t answer, so I left another voice mail saying I was at the restaurant with Paige and asking him to please hurry and meet us there.

I charged up the porch steps and lunged at the front door. It didn’t give. I gripped the knob tighter and tried again.

The door was locked. In the middle of the day, when the restaurant should be serving lunch. Betty’s was open 365 days of the year and didn’t close for any reason. Paige liked to say that if a blizzard shut down the rest of the town, you could always snowshoe to the pier and know you’d find a hot bowl of chowder waiting for you. This storm, though bad, wasn’t worse than that … so what was going on?

And then I saw it. A handwritten sign, taped to the other side of the door’s small window.

Betty’s is closed today for a private party. Please come back tomorrow!

Paige hadn’t mentioned anything about a private party. But I could hear the music from here. And as I moved down the porch and peered into the dining room windows, I saw what appeared to be some sort of celebration. I recognized many of the fishermen who’d become recent regulars. They milled about, talking and laughing with several girls I didn’t recognize. Nobody sat at the tables and ate; they mingled like they were at a cocktail party. Maybe that was because no one served them—in a quick scan of the room, I didn’t spot a single employee.

Paige
, I tried again, hurtling down the porch steps.
I’m here. Where are you?

Nothing. I bolted around the side of the building and headed for the kitchen door. I wasn’t surprised to find it locked, too, and was relieved to see the room empty when I peered into the adjacent window. I glanced around to make sure I wasn’t being followed, then unlocked the door with the key Paige had given me when I’d started hostessing.

I checked the basement next. No one was there so I went back upstairs and tried the pantry, the utility closet, the freezer. All were empty. I was hiding behind stacks of dishes, trying to figure out how to infiltrate the dining room without anyone noticing, when something thumped overhead. It was followed
by a light scraping that started to my left and traveled to my right.

A knife lay on the counter next to me. It rested by a half-sliced tomato, like whoever had been prepping had been interrupted. I grabbed it and headed for the stairs.

I heard voices as I climbed. Paige’s soft moaning seemed to grow louder, and I soon realized that was because I now heard it both inside and outside my head.

At the top of the stairwell, I tightened my hold on the knife handle and stepped onto the employee break deck.

I didn’t have a plan, but if I had, it wouldn’t have mattered. The second my eyes registered the scene before me, I was too stunned to move.

Like the dining room downstairs, the deck was decorated for a party. Paper globe lanterns were strung from the ceiling and bobbed in the wind. Candles, their flames protected by clear glass domes, were scattered across the tables, floor, and railings. In the center of the table my friends and I had sat at countless times, a large silver bucket held ice and three bottles of champagne. Glass flutes surrounded the bucket.

Paige sat in a plastic chair in the far corner of the deck, her wrists tied with rope and her mouth taped shut. Her head lolled to one side, like she was too tired to hold it upright. Jaime, the cute, young fisherman we’d manipulated a few days ago, stood next to her. Simon and Caleb, also bound and gagged, huddled together on the floor in the opposite corner. When Simon saw me, his entire body jerked, like it automatically wanted to
run to protect me; I managed to shake my head so he stayed put. I didn’t want him to alert their captor, whose back was to me.

Paige, are—

“Vanessa!”

Paige’s head lifted. I stepped back.

Natalie turned around.

“So nice of you to join us.” She slid off the guy’s lap she’d been sitting in and hurried across the deck. She wore a soft red sundress with a skirt so long, it trailed behind her. “Care for some bubbly?”

I didn’t answer as she reached me, pulled me into a hug, and kissed my cheek.

“Poor thing. You’re soaked!” She started to pull back—and stopped when her eyes met mine. A second later, her lips turned up. “And you’ve had some morning, haven’t you?”

She let out a small squeal and practically skipped back to the table. I glanced at Simon, who looked at me. His eyebrows were lowered as his gaze traveled slowly from my feet to my face. Caleb watched me curiously. Across the deck, Paige, now alert, did the same thing.

“How do you feel?” Natalie asked. She popped a strawberry in her mouth with one hand and poured a glass of champagne with the other.

Somehow, I found my voice. “Fine.”

She glided back toward me. “That’s all?”

I started to say yes, and then realized it wasn’t true. I’d
kayaked. Swam. Been attacked and freed myself. Dragged a hundred and eighty pounds up the beach. Absorbed a ton of fresh rainwater. Sprinted a mile. Between my recent physical exertion and the accompanying emotional stress, I shouldn’t be here. I should be back at the beach, passed out, perhaps left for dead.

But I wasn’t. Because Colin was.

I felt stronger, healthier, than I ever had. And I knew this was why. The effects of my unthinkable actions were likely apparent in my appearance, which was why my friends examined me like they wanted to make sure it wasn’t someone else standing before them.

I tried to channel this superhuman energy now.

“What’s going on, Natalie?” I asked calmly.

She shrugged, grinned. “What does it look like?”

“Kidnapping?”

“And here I was going for bohemian chic,” she said, with a pout.

She came back toward me and held out the champagne glass. When I didn’t take it, her eyes fell to my hands.

“Oh. You won’t be needing that.”

Before I could react, she grabbed my arm and twisted it so that I dropped the knife. The guy whose lap she’d been sitting in jumped up, ran over, and snatched it from the floor.

“Thank you, dear,” she said.

As they kissed, I realized I’d seen him before. On the beach. The day Natalie had broken down and I’d comforted her.

“That’s your ex-fiancé,” I said, as he returned to the table.

“Actually, he’s my husband. Going on what? Five years?” She looked to him for confirmation, and he nodded. “I made up all that drama because girls love to bond over shared heartache, and that’s what I wanted you and me to do. But if all goes well, you and Simon will be as happy as Will and I are. Forever.”

A door slammed. Heavy footsteps thudded up the stairs. I stepped aside, prepared to see police officers charging … but it was the fisherman. The one with the orange truck.