Dark Water: A Siren Novel (24 page)

“Maybe,” I said. “She did say
she
asked
him
out—and after seeing him at the coffee shop every day for a month. And it’s only July tenth. The group I saw at the lake house looked pretty young—college age, tops—so would they have already been in town that long?”

“The pictures on the camera they dropped were taken three weeks ago.” Caleb shrugged. “Another few days wouldn’t be too big a stretch.”

“What about that other girl?” Simon asked. “The one with all the makeup? She knew who you were, right?”

I nodded, glad I’d come clean this time and shared (almost) everything about what had happened in the movie theater restroom. “But she had a delayed response, just like you guys did with Erica. She seemed to recognize me, but it took until she was leaving for her to remember why.”

“But how could she know who you were?” Caleb asked. “Some of the articles last summer mentioned Justine having a sister, but your picture was never included.”

This was another good question without an answer. There
was also the fact that the brunette had taken forever to do her hair and makeup. Had she been waiting for Erica to come out of the stall? For me to leave? Both?

“Well, if she had something to do with it,” Simon said, “she didn’t act alone. The bruises on Erica’s neck are too wide. Someone bigger and stronger helped.”

Paige groaned lightly, stood, and walked to the deck railing. “If it is the crazy stalkers doing this … why? If they want to get our attention, or expose us to the world, or whatever, why aren’t they going after men, to alert us and bring us out of hiding? Or since they seem to know something about Vanessa’s involvement, why aren’t they targeting us directly? Do they think all women in Winter Harbor are like us and deserve to be punished? And if that’s the case, should we, I don’t know, make some kind of announcement? To save the rest of the female population?”

The more Paige spoke, the faster the words came. I started to go to her, but Caleb beat me to it. He stood next to her and put one arm loosely around her shoulders. We were quiet for a moment; the only sounds came from seagulls and Louis’s banging pots around in the kitchen, below the employee break deck.

Then I registered something I’d just said.

“It’s July tenth.”

Simon’s eyes met mine. “And?”

“And yesterday was the ninth.” I reached for the laptop on the table before him. “May I?”

He slid the computer toward me. I typed “drowning timeline” in the
Herald’
s search box and scanned the results.
Finding the correct link, I clicked on it and turned the laptop back to Simon. He stared at the screen without moving.

“What?” Paige asked, stepping toward us. “What is it?”

“Charles Spinnaker,” I said.

“The second guy found last summer.” She nodded. “What about him?”

“He died July ninth,” Simon said quietly.

Her eyes widened. “And the first male victim? Paul Carsons?”

“June thirtieth.” Simon frowned.

“The day Carla was found,” I added.

Paige reached behind her for Caleb’s hand. “So these people … whoever they are … are following last summer’s schedule? Only with women instead of men?”

Before one of us could respond, a door slammed down below. Footsteps raced up the stairs. Natalie leapt onto the landing; her smile fell when she saw us.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt—I didn’t know you were all here. I just wanted to let Paige know that the first guests have arrived.”

Paige dropped Caleb’s hand, like it somehow suggested what we’d been discussing. She smoothed her skirt and straightened her blouse as she hurried to Natalie.

“Are the display areas ready?” she asked. “How about the music? Are you sure we have enough menu options?”

They started down the stairs, Natalie leading the way. Before her head disappeared behind the stairwell wall, Paige caught my eye and mouthed, “We’ll talk more later.”

“I wish you’d planned this little party for a night we could be here,” Simon said, when they were gone. “We can’t really bail on Dad’s birthday.”

I glanced at Caleb. He stood up straight from the railing and headed for the stairs. “I’ll be in the car. Take your time.”

“Vanessa—”

“I love you.”

Simon stopped. Smiled despite his concern.

I closed the laptop, stood, and held out one hand. He hesitated before taking it, and I led him to the far corner of the deck, which offered the best view of the harbor below.

“Can we just focus on that for a minute?” I pulled him close, rested my head on his chest. “Please?”

His chin brushed against the top of my head as he nodded. Then, precisely sixty seconds later, he said, “I love you, too. That’s why I want to be here tonight. So I can watch over you and make sure nothing else happens.”

I pulled back and looked up at him. “Even if you could be here tonight … what about tomorrow? And the night after that?”

“I’ll figure something out.”

“What about in the fall, when we leave for school? Are you going to drive to Dartmouth from Bates to tuck me in every night?”

He lifted a loose strand of hair away from my cheek, kissed the space it had just occupied. “Would that be so bad?”

My chest warmed. “It’d be amazing. But probably hard to
pull off.” I moved my face so his mouth met mine. I hoped my words reassured him, because they had the opposite effect on me. “I’ll take care of myself, Simon. I have to. Like it or not—and I don’t—we can’t be together every second of the day.”

He kissed me, pulled me close. “Why not?” he whispered against my lips.

I kissed him harder in response. When we separated a few minutes later, I did my best to offer more immediate consolation. I told him that, with the help of Natalie’s dad, we’d invited only a few select guests. And that, as promised, Paige had installed security cameras around the premises. And that she’d also bulked up on male waitstaff—not because we were going to be that busy, but just in case anyone grew rowdy and we needed to quell potential disputes with bigger bodies. I finished by showing him my cell phone, which now had the Winter Harbor police department on speed dial.

“I hate that,” he said, looking at the phone. “I mean, it’s a good idea … but I hate that it’s a good idea.”

I kissed him once more and we went downstairs. When we reached the lobby, he continued outside and I stepped behind the hostess stand. As I was straightening the menus Paige had made for tonight’s event—which featured fewer than ten items, including appetizers and desserts, and a picture of a flying fish Paige had drawn herself on photocopied paper—I discovered a bottle of water by the phone. A Post-it was stuck to the label.

Fishermen can be chatty. This should help!—Natalie

I’d gotten over my initial suspicion of Betty’s new waitress
after our encounter on the beach, so my first thought was that this was a thoughtful gesture. Then I remembered the salt she’d served with my coffee a few weeks earlier. Without my asking, Paige had explained that the busboy had gotten the salt and sugar containers mixed up while refilling shakers and bowls the night before, but that instance had stayed with me anyway.

Now I took the water, opened it, and sipped.

No salt. I smiled in relief.

Fortunately, I’d taken enough precautions earlier in the day that rehydrating wasn’t necessary. Because for the next hour, I barely had time to grab more menus and turn around each time I returned to the lobby after seating diners. The front door never stopped opening and closing as more fishermen arrived, hauling coolers and paper-wrapped packages. As I led them to their seats, I pointed out the long tables arranged at one end of the dining room and the banner above it, announcing the first
EVER BETTY’S CHOWDER HOUSE SURPRISE O’ THE SEAS CONTEST
. I watched for their reactions, still not quite buying the universal appeal of Mountaineers’ marketing methods, but the majority seemed to be excited, curious. Those who looked like they’d rather be elsewhere were prodded along by enthusiastic wives and girlfriends—of which, I was happy to see, there were many.

Soon the tables were full and I seated guests at the bar. When I ran out of stools and diners continued to arrive, I flagged down Paige, who was overseeing the contest display area.

“Don’t turn anyone away,” she said, joining me behind the hostess stand.

“But there isn’t a single chair left,” I said. “And the people who are already here aren’t leaving anytime soon.”

“So we’ll go with standing room only. Let’s pack them in wherever they’ll fit—in the bar area, on the porch, on the back patio.”

“Isn’t that a fire hazard?”

“Maybe.” She nodded to a nearby table. “But there’s the safety inspector.”

The safety inspector apparently had a fishing gig on the side. From here, I could hear him telling his friends about the best catch he’d ever had in between big gulps of beer.

“What are all these people doing here anyway?” I asked. “I thought you and Natalie invited only a few select fishermen? As a trial.”

“We did.” She shrugged. “But I’ve been distracted by other things, as you know, and didn’t monitor the guest list that closely. I guess she asked a few more. That, or the ones we invited spread the word—which is exactly what we wanted them to do.”

Eventually. That’s what we wanted them to do
eventually
, after we’d figured out what worked and what didn’t.

“By the way,” Paige said, with a smile, “have I told you how pretty you look tonight?”

She was called away by a waiter before I could answer. I turned to the next set of waiting fishermen and asked them to follow me. As we passed through the dining room on our way to the bar area, I snuck a peek at my reflection in the mirror over the fireplace.

Paige was right. Before Simon and I had started seeing each other, I’d been rather self-conscious and never paid much attention to my appearance. I’d paid more since then, but focused primarily on my flaws—probably because I hoped they’d be enough to keep other members of the opposite sex from noticing me. Since arriving in Winter Harbor, I’d been seriously taken aback twice by my reflection. The first was in the lake house bathroom the night of my Betty’s basement encounter. And the second was last night, when I was mentally replaying the afternoon’s events as I got ready for bed. As bad as I’d felt in the movie theater restroom and as upset—and scared—as I’d been by Erica’s death, I should’ve been too weak to stand before the bathroom mirror.

But I’d felt solid instead. And when I looked at my reflection now, I lost my breath in surprise, not fear.

There was one explanation. When I used my inner voice on men, as I had in Betty’s basement and at the movie theater, my body somehow harnessed their energy in ways it never had before. Not only was I infinitely stronger, my eyes shone and my skin glowed, as if I were so filled with life and love, the two radiated light from the inside out.

I couldn’t deny the result since I was experiencing it firsthand.

It was breathtaking.

“Vanessa?”

I’d just left the fishermen and spun around to find Oliver standing with one arm around Betty.

“What is all this?” he called out over the din. “What’s going on?”

“It’s a party!” Betty answered happily. “Even I can see that.”

“But Paige said you were hosting a small gathering. That’s why we stopped by, to have a bite to eat and say hello.”

“And it’s so nice that you did.” As I gave them quick hugs, I tried to catch Paige’s eye. She was too busy talking with the fishermen by the contest tables to notice. “I guess after such a quiet start to the summer, people were ready to let loose. I’ll find you a seat, but can I get you a drink in the meantime?”

I asked one waiter to bring them iced tea and two others to drag down chairs and a small table from the employee break area. I was heading back toward the lobby when I passed Natalie on her way to the kitchen. She grabbed my arm and pulled me toward her.

“Isn’t this great?” She beamed. “The place is packed!”

“It’s something—definitely a bigger crowd than we expected.”

“And everyone seems to be having a great time.” She lifted her chin. “Including our favorite manager.”

I looked behind me. Seconds ago, Paige talked to individual fishermen as they surveyed the catches displayed in ice bins. Now they all formed a circle around her and ignored the contest entries. She stood in the middle of the group, smiling, laughing, and occasionally reaching forward to pat an arm or squeeze a shoulder.

“Maybe I should do that,” Natalie said. “Hook up with a bunch of cute, random guys so I forget about Will.”

“She’s not hooking up,” I said quickly.

“Not this second. But by the looks of it, she’s open to the possibility.”

I didn’t say anything. Because Natalie was right. Paige was flirting like her life depended on it … and even though in a way it did, it still bothered me to see. I didn’t want my best friend to have to do what I had to do. I especially didn’t want her to do it in public, with a hundred sets of eyes watching her every move.

“I better check on my tables,” Natalie said. “Don’t want to rock the boat with lackluster service.”

She left and I weaved through the crowd back toward the lobby. Still feeling energized after yesterday’s exchange with the movie theater guy, I kept my eyes lowered and crossed my arms over my chest. I felt curious gazes follow me and wanted to avoid engaging and encouraging unnecessarily.

“Vanessa?”

In the lobby doorway, I stopped and looked up. An older man with white hair, a kind smile, and a wedding ring stood by the hostess stand.

“Yes?” I asked.

“I was asked to give you this.” He held out a long package wrapped in brown paper. “It’s a late contest entry.”

I stepped toward him and took the package. It was softer and lighter than I expected.

“This is a fish?” I asked. Judging by the filled bins in the other room, most of the entrants had decided longer and heavier was better.

“I assume so, though the gentleman didn’t say. He just stopped me on the porch, asked me to give it to you for the contest, and left.”