Skinny Dipping with Murder

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Skinny Dipping with Murder Page 13

by Auralee Wallace


  Uh-oh.

  I swiveled my head back to the dock. Yup, both boats were on fire. Not raging fire, but definitely burning. Tommy’s boats looked okay. “Grady, I’m—”

  “They’re not going to give me another one, you know,” he said, voice getting louder. “I had to do a lot of things to get that boat—smile at a lot of people.”

  I kept my mouth firmly shut.

  “And then you come along, and boom.” He mimed a small explosion with his fingers. “It’s all gone.”

  “Grady, I didn’t mean to—”

  I stopped talking because of the way he was shaking his head from side to side.

  “No!” he said sharply, pointing a finger at me. “You were pulling the cord, and I was like, Erica, don’t pull it, let me help, and you were all like, pull, pull, PULL!” He slapped the water with his hand.

  “Grady, I think you might be in shock.”

  “I loved that boat,” he said sadly.

  “But … it’s just a boat?”

  His eyes flashed wildly. “You know, my life was fine before you came back to the lake. More than fine. Then you arrive, and it’s nothing but trouble!”

  Now it was my turn to be shocked. “Seriously.” I said the word quietly, but the volume was going up fast. “I cause you trouble?”

  “Look around, Erica,” he said, gesturing at the flames. “You’re not even supposed to be here. Tommy? Really? You think you’re some master detective, and you’re investigating Tommy?”

  “Hey!” I shouted. “Tommy knows something!”

  “My cousin is stubborn and reckless and at times immature, but that doesn’t make a person a killer, now does it, Erica? You of all people should know because you’d already be in jail.”

  I gasped.

  A look of horror spread over his face. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Oh ho ho,” I said, flexing my jaw. “That was nice, Grady. Real nice.”

  I heard sirens in the distance.

  “Wait,” he said, reaching out to me. “I’m sorry.”

  I started to swim in the opposite direction, away from the burning mess and Grady, toward the shore.

  “Erica!” he called. “It’s just … my boat…”

  My feet found sandy bottom and I stood up, refusing to look back at Grady.

  “Hey! I just saved your life, you know!” he shouted at my back.

  I grumbled and kept stomping.

  “What? No thank you?” he shouted. “No kiss on the cheek for the paper?”

  “You want a kiss?” I shouted back. “Oh, sure. You can just go ahead and kiss my—”

  * * *

  I hitched a ride with the fire department back into town. Luckily, I didn’t have to give much of a statement. Grady handled it. I couldn’t help but notice that Tommy was long gone by the time anyone bothered to look for him.

  I found Red lounging at the boat fill-up station, and he agreed to take me back to the island. The best part about Red was that he never talked, just spat occasionally. Well, except for when he was working as an electrician and shocked himself. Then he could swear a blue streak. But even if that were to happen today, I wouldn’t be able to hear it. My ears were still ringing from the explosion.

  I walked up the steps to the lodge, feeling like a drowned rat. I needed to call Freddie. He’d be wondering where I was, but first I wanted to shower and wash off the smell of smoke and gasoline.

  I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.

  “Erica!” my mother cried. “What happened?”

  Two steps in the door, I was surrounded by clucking women. They led me to the couch en masse and huddled around. I could feel everyone’s gaze on me, but my eyes fell flat.

  They all expected me to say something. But my brain was like one of those giant buckets at a water park. Ever since I had arrived home, it had been filling with water. Filling. Filling. Filling. Until the boat explosion filled it right up … and tipped it over.

  Now my brain was empty.

  “She looks like she’s in shock.”

  “She smells like a tire fire.”

  “Quick, someone get her some water.”

  I felt a mug pressed into my hand. I didn’t move.

  “Help her.”

  Before I knew it, water was poured into my mouth … water that burned like acid!

  Alcohol sprayed from my lips.

  “What did you give her?” I heard my mother ask as convulsions ripped through my throat.

  “Moonshine. Hundred proof.”

  I gave Kit Kat a filthy look through the tears in my eyes.

  “New hobby,” she said, shrugging.

  All the women resumed staring at me as my coughs settled. I mentally grumbled, before saying, “Look, ladies, I really would like to take a shower and eat a sandwich, a big sandwich. Then maybe we could—”

  “No!” they all shouted in unison.

  “Fine. If you must know,” I began, “I blew up a boat today … two boats actually.”

  Silence fell on the room as they processed this information.

  Then identical, phlegm-crackled laughs started up.

  “Are you all right?” my mother asked quickly.

  “Fine.”

  “Do you think we should call Homeland Security?” I heard someone whisper.

  I looked up to see a thin birdlike woman with her hand over her mouth. I couldn’t remember her story, but I was suddenly on her ex-husband’s side.

  “I’m not a terrorist,” I said, ignoring the twins’ growing laughter. “It was an accident.”

  “Are you sure?” one of the women asked with a knowing tone. “Given all that’s been happening around here lately?”

  I considered this for half a second before I said, “The engine’s been giving off smoke lately.”

  My mother nodded.

  “Don’t say any more. We’ll get started on the claim right away,” Lydia Morgan said, jumping in. “Did you call the police. Is there a report?”

  “I’m sure there will be. I—”

  “You said two boats?” Maria Franelli asked. “I assume one of them was yours. Who did the other boat belong to?”

  I didn’t want to answer, but I was flanked on all sides.

  I licked my lips, and met Maria Franelli’s eyes, generously painted peacock blue.

  “Grady’s.”

  The room erupted.

  The twins were now wiping tears away while at least half a dozen women gave high fives.

  “Why? Why are you doing that?” I asked, looking about the room.

  “He deserved it,” somebody shouted.

  “You go, girl!”

  “I blew up two boats,” I said, trying to figure out exactly what was going on here. “By accident.”

  “There are no accidents.”

  “Take your power back!” yelled another woman, shaking her fist.

  “None of that even makes sense,” I said, shaking my head and turning to my mother.

  She shrugged her shoulders. “We’re practicing unconditional positive reinforcement.”

  I looked back at the women.

  Lydia made a noise indicating she wanted the floor. I half expected her to go into the details of my mother’s policy, but instead she said, “What did it feel like?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “I always wanted to blow up my husband’s Mustang,” she said. “What was the expression on his face like?”

  The memory of Grady in the water looking at his burning boat appeared before my mind’s eye. I felt the corner of my mouth twitch.

  “There it is!” the woman with the porn-addicted ex yelled, pointing at my lips.

  The smile spread even further.

  “Was he all like, My boat! My beautiful boat!”

  “He was actually,” I said, nodding my head maybe a little too vigorously. “He really was.”

  I watched two women smile at each other and clasp their hands to their chests.

  “Erica Bloom, you are my h
ero,” someone shouted.

  “Thank you,” I said, getting to my feet. “Thank all of you. I mean I never intended to blow up his boat, but I guess that it was something I needed to do, like—”

  “Stop. Stop right there,” Maria said, holding out her bejewelled hand. “You had me at ‘blow up his boat.’”

  Before I knew it, I was clasped to her large chest. Then I was once again surrounded by all the women … and it actually felt kind of good.

  Maybe my mother had been on to something all along. Maybe I did need more than fake Facebook profiles as friends.

  “You know,” I mumbled through the tangle of arms, “you ladies are all right.”

  They erupted in friendly laughter.

  Then I did the unthinkable.

  “Now who wants to help me solve this murder for real?”

  * * *

  I’m not going to lie. After the initial euphoria of all that unconditional woman power wore off, I was a little uneasy about having invited the ladies into the investigation. But it was too late. I had opened the door, and now I had no idea how to close it.

  On the bright side, they agreed with me that Candace was the most likely suspect. I had to like that about them even if I was slightly alarmed by how quickly they were willing to jump on that particular bandwagon. I suspected it had more to do with their choosing sides in the Grady-versus-Erica war than, say, impartial evidence, but, really, I already had enough to worry about. I could explore the state of my conscience back in Chicago.

  Over the course of the afternoon, the ladies ate vegan cookies and came up with a plan. First, they would all go into town. Then our newly assembled Alpha Team would go to the library before it closed and use the computers to research Candace and the development company, while our Beta Team canvassed the town, asking pertinent questions.

  I’ll admit, the Beta Team’s mission had me a little worried. The citizens of Otter Lake didn’t exactly trust people from out of town. They especially didn’t trust the kind of people my mother’s retreat attracted. I tried to explain this to them, and they had promised in return to keep the investigation low-key, but there was an excited gleam in their collective eye that made me about as comfortable as a wool sweater on bare skin.

  I stood on the porch and watched my personal army of detectives cross the lake in Red’s pontoon, brow furrowed. Both teams seemed to think I should stay under the radar during the investigation, so I told them I was going to have dinner with Freddie at the Salty Dawg if they needed me. I figured no good could come of sharing my plans beyond that.

  I was still furrowing when Freddie struggled up the last few stairs to join me on the porch.

  “What’s the problem?” he asked, trying to catch his breath.

  “Nothing,” I said, watching the departing boat disappear into the glare of the setting sun. A moment passed before I added, “Freddie?”

  “Hmm?”

  I turned my head to study his serious, I’m deeply considering the sunset profile. “Should I be concerned?”

  “About so much,” he replied, nodding sagely into the dying light. “But are you referring to something specific?”

  I pointedly looked over his blue T-shirt, Hawaiian shorts, and flip-flops. “Well, you appear to be dressed somewhat normally. No Madame F today? No Sherlock?”

  He waggled his eyebrows.

  “I got something better.”

  “That frightens me just a little.”

  He nodded. “So I heard you blew up some boats today. Didn’t bother to mention that on the phone.”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Was it in a fit of jealous rage?”

  “No. The engine was old. And I’m not sure what the deal is with Candace, but I’m starting to think Grady might actually like me.”

  “And that’s a bad thing,” Freddie said half as a statement, half as a question.

  “Terrible!”

  “Right.”

  “I live in Chicago! He lives here!”

  “Right.”

  “He likes Otter Lake Erica for some strange reason, and I like Chicago Erica!”

  “Right.”

  “And God only knows how many Candaces he’s dating.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  I planted my hands on my hips and shook my head. “I mean, I don’t even want to open that door a little bit. He’s investigating me for murder! And I accidentally destroyed his beloved boat.”

  “I hear you.”

  “I mean it’s totally unworkable.” I turned to read Freddie’s expression. “Right?”

  He said nothing.

  “Well? Freddie? What do you think?”

  He had already shuffled back toward the steps. “Right now I’m thinking that whoever the murderer is, I hope they kill me next.”

  I sighed and trotted after him. “Good one.”

  He skipped a little in the air. “I’ve been saving it all day.”

  * * *

  Not long after, we were walking down Main Street. I couldn’t help but wish the sun would set a little faster, so I’d feel less conspicuous. It was the first time I had set foot in town since the social eight years ago. Maybe only a few hundred of Otter Lake’s total population lived in town, but right now, it felt like every single one of them had eyes on me.

  Freddie and I crossed the street toward the Salty Dawg. Tommy’s girlfriend Shelley waitressed there and lived in the apartment above it. Her family had owned the Dawg since it had opened, which was lucky for someone with a temperament like Shelley’s, as it meant she always had a job.

  It had been a hot day, but the temperature was dropping quickly and the colossal raspberry looming over the town blocked the warmth from the last rays of sunshine.

  I caught Freddie looking at it too.

  “I can’t help but think,” I said cautiously, “every time I see that thing, that it’s going to come to life—kind of like the marshmallow man in Ghostbusters—and destroy the town.”

  “I know!” Freddie exclaimed, slowly peeling his eyes away from the giant piece of fruit. “And just wait until you see it lit up.”

  We walked in silence for a little bit before I asked, “So whatever happened to Julie Mahone?” I couldn’t help but wonder who we might run into tonight, and that got me thinking about all the people I used to know. “She was cool.” Freddie and I used to hang out with Julie sometimes. She was the only person ever brave enough to dress goth in Otter Lake. I had to respect her for that.

  “Last I heard, she’s finishing up her residency as a pediatrician in New York.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded.

  “What about Matthew Masterson?” Matthew was from one of the oldest families in the area. They owned a beautiful historical estate on the other side of the lake, which they had somehow managed to keep even though most of their money was gone.

  Freddie furrowed his brow. “Architect. Somewhere or other.”

  “What about Kate Turney? She was nice.” Her family owned the local hardware store.

  “Gone too. First grade teacher in Portsmouth.”

  I wrapped my sweater more tightly around my body. “Wow. Everybody we hung out with is gone.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Freddie said with a dismissive wave. “They’ll be back. Just like you. Otter Lake is kind of like a black hole, or—oh! Or the Hotel California.”

  “I’m not back, Freddie.”

  “We’ll see.”

  I opened the door to the Dawg, washing us both in the warm smell of grease and stale beer. We picked a table and sat ourselves down.

  “So,” I said, putting my elbows on the surface before quickly pulling them back. Sticky. “Do you see Shelley?”

  “Ah … nope,” Freddie said, looking around. He pushed back his chair. “But I’ll go find out if she’s here.”

  I tapped at the table with an uneven rhythm, glancing around. Everything in the bar was made from wood except for the alcohol and the people. I quickly skimmed over all the once famil
iar faces. They were all looking back at me with uneasy expressions. Word must be out that I was a suspect in Dickie’s murder. Either that, or they had heard about the boats. Suddenly a server I didn’t recognize walked by with a tray full of shots. Without thinking I swiped one and downed it.

  “I’m sorry,” I said with a gasp. “Whoever those belong to, I’ll buy them another. Two. I’ll buy them two. It was an emergency.”

  The server walked away with a look on her face that I was doing my best to ignore.

  “Erica Bloom!”

  I turned to see a bear of man coming up to my table to pull out the chair across from me.

  “Coach Waters!” I couldn’t help the excitement in my voice. Of all the people I could have run into, this man was probably my first choice. Coach Waters ran the athletics department at the high school, such as it was, and headed up all the teams. He was built like a giant but was a softie through and through.

  He hiked up the fabric of his jeans as he eased himself into the chair. “I saw you come in and I thought I’d say hello.”

  I scanned his face, taking in all the years that had passed. A few more wrinkles. Definitely grayer on top. But thankfully, he still had the same warm smile. “I’m glad you did.”

  “People treating you all right?”

  I shrugged. “Haven’t really been out much since I got home.”

  He patted my hand. “Well now, that needs to be remedied. Otter Lake is your home, and everyone’s glad you’re back.”

  “I’m not staying,” I said with a quick shake of my head. “I’m just—”

  He waved a hand, indicating that I didn’t need to explain. “Doesn’t matter how long you’re staying. You’re one of us. This will always be your home.”

  “I don’t know if everyone agrees with you.”

  “I think you’d be surprised,” he said with a smile that deepened the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes. “People just like a good story. Nobody really believes that bonfire—” He cut himself off and paused a moment before continuing. “Just don’t let the rumors get to you.”

  I cocked my head. “Bonfire?”

  “It’s nothing. All nonsense.” I could tell by the look on his face that he regretted mentioning it. “The important thing is that you don’t let it get to you. People are happy to have you home. I, for one, know the athletics department misses you. The field hockey team fell apart after you graduated.”

 

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