The Vision (11 page)

a laugh, and she feels better about the whole thing. It’s not cruel at all.”

Alex shook his head. “Victor, you are one sorry liar. You want to scare her. Face it.

You’ve had a hard-on for Gen since you’ve been kids. Now she’s getting into Thor, and

you’re pissed.”

Victor frowned, sitting back. “That’s bull. She’s my best friend. We’d never mess up our

friendship. And she hates Thompson. Can’t stand him. Can’t you tell? Wait. Don’t repeat

that, Jack. I keep forgetting you’re with his crew.”

Jack arched a brow. “Haven’t you heard? We aren’t two crews anymore. We’re one crew.

One big flippin’ happy family. But I’ve got news for you, Victor. I don’t think that’s

really hate we’re seeing.”

“Then what is it?”

“Heat,” Jack said, grinning. “You mark my words—something is going on there.”

“He thinks she’s a lunatic,” Victor said flatly.

“And you’ve never wanted to sleep with a woman you thought was off the wall?” Jack

asked. “What man out there hasn’t found himself dying to bang someone gorgeous, no

matter what he thought of her sanity, brains or anything else?”

“She resents him. Big time,” Victor said flatly. “And she doesn’t sleep around.”

“Listen to you,” Alex said, laughing. “You’re getting all big-brother over there. And

you’re the one who wants to trick her?”

“You in or out?” Victor asked him.

“Just what the hell do you intend to do?” Jack demanded.

“Nothing major. Just put a blond mannequin on her porch for when she wakes up,”

Victor said. “Honestly, don’t you think she’ll get a laugh out of it, too, and then she’ll be past all that panic the other day?”

“Where do you think you’re going to get a mannequin at this time of night?” Jack

demanded.

“I’m from here. I know half the shopkeepers on Duval Street,” Victor said, grinning.

Sometime, right around when the aliens had managed to evolve from being pod people,

Genevieve at last managed to drift off.

She never knew just when restful sleep departed and the dreams began. She saw nothing

but darkness.

And then, from the darkness, the woman emerged.

She strode forward with purpose. In her dream state, Genevieve groaned.

Go away, she begged.

The woman moved in a cloud of white. It was some kind of beautiful, floating negligee.

Her hair was long and blond, drifting as she walked, as if she were perpetually touched

by the sea’s current, or by a breeze off the shore. Her eyes were large, tragically sad.

“Beware…” she mouthed.

“Go away, please! Oh, God, please, go away. I can’t help you, I don’t understand. Why

are you torturing me?” Genevieve pleaded silently.

“Beware…”

“Beware of what?”

There was no answer. She was roused from sleep by a small noise that was real enough to

jar her from the nightmare.

Dragged from sleep, she lay on the bed, blinking. The lights remained on, as they had

been. On the television, a space ship was whizzing by planets and stars. She blinked and

looked around. Everything looked the way it should. She couldn’t tell what had

awakened her.

She rolled over to look at the clock on the table. Five-thirty. Late enough to get up.

She crawled off the far side of the bed and headed for the bathroom. She was loathe to

look in the mirror—afraid she would find seaweed in her hair again. But there was

nothing disturbed about her appearance, other than the state of her hair, which was in

wild tangles. With a breath of relief, she leaned down to brush her teeth and wash her

face. She grabbed for her towel, dried her face, then hesitated, once again afraid to look

in the mirror, wondering if a face would appear beside her own.

But there was nothing. She headed into the living area and started her coffeepot brewing,

still wondering what had woken her up. While she waited for the coffee, she walked back

into the bathroom, found one of her bathing suits, slipped into it, then tossed on one of

her terry cover-ups. The coffee was done.

Outside, the pink-and-yellow streaks that heralded morning were beginning to shoot

nicely across the sky.

She opened her front door to step out and check the weather.

Sheer panic seized her.

She was staring at a face. At a woman her own height. She nearly screamed at the top of

her lungs.

But she managed not to. Then she gritted her teeth, fury replacing abject fear.

The blond wig was slightly askew, the part somewhere over the ear. The dummy was

arranged at an odd angle, one arm raised as if it were double jointed.

“Assholes,” she muttered. Then she said it more loudly, just in case the culprits were

hanging around to catch her reaction. They were probably somewhere like a pack of

adolescents, waiting for her to scream.

She swore, dragging the mannequin to the far side of the porch. “I hope it’s ruined, and I really hope whoever lent it to you charges you big bucks,” she said more loudly. “Are

you guys out there?” she called. “Funny, very funny, ha-ha.”

She stood, tense and seething, for several seconds, then decided that Victor—it had to be

Victor—and whoever had joined him in this prank had to pay. She dragged the dummy

off the porch and across the sand, then dumped it into the water. She dusted her hands

and returned to her cottage, irritated that no one seemed to have been waiting to watch

her reaction. She had hoped Victor would come running from some hiding spot, alarm on

his face when he saw she was about to destroy the mannequin.

In the cottage, a sense of satisfaction guiding her, she poured a cup of coffee and

wandered back into the bedroom, planning to catch a bit of the morning news.

As she reached the near side of the bed, she came to a halt, a feeling of deep

apprehension seeping into her.

She looked down at the rag rug that lay beside the bed and beneath her bare feet.

It was soaked. A glacial chill began to sweep through her. She closed her eyes. Don’t

panic, she told herself. One of those idiots got in here, too. That’s all it is.

No. They couldn’t have known about her dream. They couldn’t have known she had seen

the walking dead woman, heard her warning.

Beware.

She groaned, sinking down on the bed.

It was then that she began to hear the shouts and the bloodcurdling scream. She raced

outside, her fingers locked around her coffee cup.

From the cottage next to hers, Thor Thompson had emerged, as well.

He was looking down at the beach, a fierce frown knitting his brow.

“What the hell?” he breathed.

She looked over at him, then at the cluster of people down by the water, hovering around

something she couldn’t quite make out.

Her heart sank. Bethany was down by the water. So were Marshall and Bert, the owner of

the resort. Lizzie and Zach were there, too, staring down at the mysterious form.

“Call 911!” she heard Marshall bellow.

“What…?” Genevieve said.

“It’s a body,” Thor said, watching the shore, not even glancing her way. “They’ve found

a body.”

“Oh, God! No, it’s not a real body. One of those idiots was playing a joke on me with a

mannequin. I dumped it in the water.”

He glanced at her, his frown deepening.

“No. It’s a corpse.”

“It’s not, I’m telling you!”

He shook his head, as if he should have been aware before speaking that she wasn’t sane.

Then he started to sprint toward the group by the water.

She set her cup on the porch railing and started toward the water herself, ready to point

out to them that they were all victims of a cruel joke—just as she had been.

“Don’t you see—” she began, brushing impatiently by Bethany.

But then she saw for herself.

It was no mannequin lying on the shore, tiny crabs crawling over it, seaweed draping it.

It was a woman’s body.

Mottled, gray…eaten away in places. She lay faceup, her sightless eyes turned toward the

cottages.

6

F or hours there was no discussion about anything other than the body found on the

beach. They were horrified, saddened—and glad. The woman had been a stranger. She

had been brought into their lives by her death, but they hadn’t known her in life.

By ten o’clock the body had been removed. Despite the excitement previously generated

by finding the coin, they were breaking off operations for the day. The discovery of the

body was a police matter. None of them had known the woman, and as yet, no one even

knew who she was. Still, with detectives and forensic units combing the beach and the

docks, yellow crime-scene tape everywhere, and the police struggling to keep curious

tourists and locals at bay, there was too much confusion going on and no point trying to

work.

Hours passed. None of them left the tiki bar unless they were asked to talk to Jay or one

of his officers.

Jack—who had actually been the first one to see the body—had spoken with Jay

Gonzalez the longest, while the others had provided what they could, which was pretty

much nothing.

The woman had been in the water several days, at least, before she had washed up on the

beach. Where she had gone in, no one knew. In the next few days, forensic techs and

medical examiners would analyze clues on and in the body, as well as currents and tidal

patterns, trying to discern just where she might have gone in to arrive on the beach where

she had.

A computer image was already being created from a photograph of her face. It would be

shown on the evening’s news, not just locally but all over Florida, and ultimately, around

the country if necessary, and with luck they would soon know her identity.

Though the police hadn’t made any announcements as yet, Thor was pretty sure he knew part of her story. Ragged marks at her ankles indicated that she’d been tied to some kind

of weight—alive or dead, he didn’t know. A medical examiner would be able to answer

that question, however.

“Boy, and we all thought you were seeing things,” Jack said suddenly, looking at

Genevieve.

She had been deep in thought and started when he spoke to her.

“Pardon?”

“Well, you saw a woman in the water. And there was a woman in the water,” Jack said.

Thor thought at first she would nod—not pleased, because who could be pleased by such

a circumstance?—but at least glad she hadn’t been crazy.

But she just stared back at Jack.

“Though God knows, we all searched exactly where you had been, and we couldn’t find

her,” Jack said.

“Maybe she lodged in the coral somewhere,” Victor said. “But I don’t see how.” He

looked glum and quiet.

Genevieve hadn’t offered an opinion. She had turned toward the beach where police and

bystanders were still milling. Only the little patch of sand where the body had actually

lain was still cordoned off.

“Amazing,” Lizzie murmured.

Genevieve turned her attention back toward the group. “I wonder what happened to the

mannequin,” she said, staring at Victor.

He flushed, then frowned. “Who told you what we were planning?” he asked, staring

accusingly at Jack.

“Hey! I didn’t say a word,” Jack protested, adjusting his big skull-and-crossbones

earring. “I thought we all decided not to do it.”

“We did,” Alex said.

“So how did you know what we were up to?” Victor asked. Thor was surprised to feel a

sense of growing unease. So that was what she’d been talking about, spouting about a

dummy when there was a pathetically dead woman lying on the beach.

Genevieve stared at him, shaking her head. “You asshole, Victor! When I woke up, there

was a mannequin on my porch, right in front of the door, waiting to greet me. I threw it in

the water.” She looked decidedly uncomfortable.

“She became real,” Bethany whispered.

“Oh, good God,” Marshall groaned. “What the hell is the matter with all of you? Victor, did you put a mannequin on Genevieve’s porch?”

“I swear to God, I didn’t,” Victor protested.

“Oh, yeah? Well she was there,” Genevieve said flatly.

“I didn’t do it,” Victor protested, staring at her. “Alex said it would be cruel. I just

thought it would give you a jolt, make you laugh, get you over the whole thing.”

“Yeah, right. Get her over it,” Zach said, fingers curling around his wife’s as he gave her

a grim smile. “It’s bizarre, though, isn’t it? Somehow, Genevieve saw a woman in the

water, and now…”

“Damn,” Victor said, shaking his head. “I was diving with her and didn’t see her.”

“We all went into the water and didn’t find the…the woman,” Alex said.

“I sure as hell didn’t see anything,” Bethany agreed.

“The sea is amazing,” Lizzie reminded them. “What she can do—the secrets she can

hide. But we should have been able to find that woman.”

“Hey, the police divers went in, too,” Zach pointed out. “The fact is, no matter how well

we think we know it, the sea is huge, the coral is treacherous…things disappear. Hell,

we’re looking for a ship that no one has seen in nearly two hundred years.”

“There you go,” Jack said to Genevieve. “And we all gave you such a hard time.”

She offered him a wisp of a smile. “Excuse me, you all. It looks like that reporter we’ve

been dodging all morning is heading back in this direction. I’m going to get out of here.

If we’re off for the day, I’ve got errands to run.”

She headed back for her cottage. Thor quickly rose, as well. “Yeah. It’s become a good