Skinny Dipping with Murder

by Auralee Wallace

Suddenly, with a big yank, my body flew into the air. My arms flailed, hands grasping for the ropes, but Grady was in control now.

  I spun uselessly in the air.

  “Did you hear the first part of that story at all?”

  I didn’t answer, just made another sudden grab for the ropes.

  Grady yanked me again.

  “Did you?”

  “Yes, I heard you.”

  “What did I say?”

  “Why?” I asked, spinning in another circle. “Is there going to be a test after?”

  “I would like to know, once and for all, for my own peace of mind, that you heard me. Now what did I say?”

  I grumbled something nasty before saying, “You said that you were planning something … nice.”

  Strangely my body lowered a few inches. I looked down at Grady.

  “Go on,” he said.

  “That you were gathering blankets, food, and candles for us.”

  My body eased a few feet lower this time.

  “And why did I do that, Erica?”

  “Supposedly because you wanted to spend some more time with me.”

  “Supposedly?”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m keeping my supposedly.”

  The rope lowered me further down. My feet dangled inches away from Grady’s head.

  “And why, Erica?” he asked, voice much lower. “Why did I want to spend more time with you?”

  I paused, chewing on my lip.

  “Erica?”

  “Because it was a good night,” I mumbled.

  “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear that.”

  I resisted the urge to kick the hat off his head.

  “One of the best!”

  The rope lowered me the rest of the way down, and I landed, body mere inches away from Grady.

  “You were listening,” he said.

  I looked up into his blue, blue eyes. My heart beat painfully in my chest.

  “I really mean that, you know.”

  Then his face lowered toward mine.

  The deafening hum of insects filled my ears.

  It was finally going to happen. I was going to kiss Grady Forrester.

  He licked his lips and whispered, “And I am sorry. It was stupid and immature and wrong to take your clothes.”

  My lips were feeling the magnetic pull of his, but I knew I had to say something first.

  I owed it to him.

  “I’m sorry too. I guess … I never really thought you were in on it.”

  I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. Oh, that felt good. I really needed to say that. Now, I could enjoy this kiss. I leaned forward with my lips puckered … and hit nothing but air.

  My eyes flew open.

  Grady had pulled back. “What did you say?”

  “I … I never really thought you were in on it,” I said, scanning his face. “Well, maybe at first. But then I wasn’t sure.”

  Grady walked back a few more steps. “Then why wouldn’t you talk to me after?”

  “I was leaving,” I stammered. “And it all just felt like too much.”

  “Too much,” he repeated, planting his hands on his hips.

  I stared at him, trying to figure out what exactly was happening here. “Yes. You, my mother, this place. The social. It was all too much.”

  Thick silence fell between us for a moment.

  “And you didn’t think I’d want to know that?” Grady was nodding, but the nod was increasing in speed.

  “I, uh…”

  “I’ve been feeling guilty all this time!” He had gone from nodding his head to shaking it back and forth. “Thanks a lot, Erica.”

  “Wait—what?” I tilted my head.

  “Oh, yeah,” he said, head back to nodding. “You know, just because I’m a guy, it doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings.”

  “What are you even talking about?” I shouted. But I was suddenly feeling a little guilty. I never did really stop to think about how Grady felt that night. Given that I was feeling that way, it was pretty funny that the next thing I said was, “Freddie was right. You do have issues.”

  Grady let out a shout. “Me! I have issues?” he exclaimed, eyes bugging. “Look. I understand growing up at the retreat, it might leave you with some … it might leave you weird. And I kind of like your weird … but even so … you … you can be pretty hard on people.”

  I scoffed.

  “Yeah,” he said, nodding. “Do you know how bad people felt about that night? About the way they overreacted about the whole Betsy thing? That’s why they keep bringing it up. Not because they feel sorry for you.”

  I planted my hands on my hips. “Now you’re just talking crazy.”

  “Yeah. They put it all together pretty quickly, but did you give anyone the chance to apologize? Nooo.”

  “I—”

  “No,” he said, putting up a finger. “I’m not done. While we’re on the subject, did you ever stop to think that maybe you have some responsibility in what happened?”

  “What!”

  He was still nodding. “Your mother is a big girl. And while you haven’t come to terms with who she is, the rest of the town, well, they have,” he said, spreading his hands wide. “You … we both should have just let those three pull their stunt.”

  My jaw dropped. I struggled to pull it back up enough to say, “Are you being serious right now?”

  His eyebrows shot skyward, and he nodded quickly.

  Suddenly I spun and blazed a path toward the forest.

  “Erica!”

  I whirled around for a brief second, and before I even realized what I wanted to say, I shouted, “What about Candace?”

  “What about Candace?” he shouted back.

  I stomped back over to him. “Why are you having all of these touchy-feely conversations with me, when you are dating her?”

  “I’m not dating Candace.”

  “Oh, please. She thinks you are,” I said, folding my arms over my chest. “And you left me in the water—again, I might add—to have drinks with her!”

  “That wasn’t. I wasn’t…”

  Grady looked nervous, but not in a cheating-guy kind of way.

  Then it hit me.

  “Oh my God,” I said, covering my mouth with my hand.

  Everything was tumbling together. It was all so clear. It all made sense. I pointed a shaky finger at him. “You … you think she did it too!”

  Grady’s eyes got very wide.

  All my angry feelings started to boil off into happy rainbow bubbles.

  “You do! You think she killed Dickie!”

  Grady’s jaw flexed. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  “Oh, but you so do,” I said, jumping, still pointing at his chest. “I knew it! Well, I didn’t know that you knew it! But—”

  “Erica, stop,” Grady said, holding out a hand. “You have no idea what you are talking about.”

  “No, really, this is great,” I said, laughing. It really was. I knew I wasn’t crazy. Or at least not supercrazy. “I mean, it’s not. It’s still terrible. But it’s also a little bit terrific. That’s why you were spending all that time with her. We should totally pool resources. If you show me your evidence, I’ll show you mine. Ha!”

  He pointed a finger at me. “Erica, I’m not going to tell you again…”

  I stopped jumping for a moment. “Stay out of it. I know. I know,” I said as seriously as I could. “But this is so exciting!”

  “I’m leaving.”

  Grady brushed past me headed back to the retreat.

  “Grady, wait!” I shouted to his back. “Don’t go! I have to apologize!”

  He didn’t bother to turn around. “I don’t want your apology.”

  “But I was wrong!”

  He didn’t stop walking, but he did call out, “About the social?”

  “Not the social! Well, maybe the social. I don’t know. Jeez. But no! About you!” I shouted to his departing form.


  “What about me?”

  “You’re an awesome sheriff!”

  * * *

  I woke up with a start. Last night had changed everything.

  I hadn’t realized just how much it had been bothering me that jealousy might be the reason behind my suspecting Candace. But no, Grady had proven it. My instincts about Candace had been spot-on.

  I had to get going. There was lots to do.

  I was on the right track. And I needed to hurry.

  One more day.

  Coming up with a plan to trap Candace into confessing to murder was proving difficult. Maybe Freddie was having better luck. I had to tell him about Grady anyway.

  I reached for my phone, but let my hand drop midway.

  He had been pretty snarky the last time I called him in the morning. I looked over at my clock. The fishing frog was pointing to seven.

  I couldn’t wait any longer! I had to do something.

  Maybe Candace confessing wasn’t the only way out of this mess. There was still Tommy. Maybe I could reason with him. He was in danger. The best thing he could do would be to come forward … if he hadn’t been in contact with Grady already. Either way, I needed answers.

  Right then my dried-out phone croaked like it had a cold. At least it was working. I glanced at the number.

  Candace.

  Crap, she was on to me. I just knew it. But I couldn’t let her know, that I knew, that she knew, I was on to her. I sighed. My life was a Monty Python skit. But hopefully it was one that didn’t end with me getting murdered.

  “Hey Candace,” I said as brightly as I could.

  My forced glow was immediately dwarfed by the cheeriness of the sun. “Erica! How are you? I got your message. Thanks for that.”

  It took a second for my brain to catch up. Oh, yeah, the cabin. Nope, I still didn’t want her going there. “No problem,” I said, rubbing my brow.

  “I’ll still have to run over there today to check it out, but you bought me some time.”

  “No,” I practically shouted. “Don’t do that!”

  She paused. “I’m sorry?”

  “I mean, you’re still so busy with the social, and I’ve got nothing but time.” I needed caffeine. I couldn’t think quickly enough. “If you’re worried, I’ll go over there again today. In fact, I’m heading out right now!”

  “Oh my goodness,” she said slowly. “You found something there yesterday, didn’t you?”

  “No!” I shot back. Dammit, sociopaths were smart.

  “Erica, no. You need to stop.” I could practically see her blond curls shaking back and forth with fake concern. “It’s one thing to go around town asking a few questions, but I talked to Grady last night. He told me how serious this could all be for you.”

  She had talked to Grady last night? Man, he was really on the case. “I swear, Candace, I didn’t find anyone.”

  “Anyone?” she practically shrieked. “Shut the front door, you found Tommy, didn’t you?”

  “No!”

  “Don’t go back there, Erica,” she said firmly. So firmly, she didn’t quite sound like herself. “It could be dangerous.”

  This was bad, bad, bad. I had just told Candace, aka the killer who wanted Tommy dead, where he was hiding out. Tommy could get killed because of me!

  “I gotta go.” I hung up quickly and threw my phone onto the bed like it was hot.

  I wrestled my way out from the bedsheets.

  I had to warn Tommy!

  * * *

  “Damn it, Freddie!” I yelled into my phone. “Call me back!”

  Branches whipped against my body as I ran the trail to the cabin. I nearly broke the speed barrier crossing the lake, thanks to Freddie’s boat, but I still wasn’t sure if I’d make it in time. Candace was already on this side of the lake.

  My chest heaved trying to suck in more air. My body didn’t seem to get the fact that this was life or death. I stopped and rested against a tree, blinking my eyes a few times to clear the spots.

  I could do this. Tommy was a jerk, but he wasn’t going to die because of me.

  “Go! Go! Go!” I shouted, launching myself forward.

  I spotted the cabin through the trees. I slowed my run until I stopped completely at the edge of the clearing. I thought about calling Grady, but I didn’t have his number. I then thought about Rhonda, but I had lost the card she had given me. I was a terrible person. I had already debated calling 911, but they would ask, What is your emergency?, and I couldn’t figure out how I could answer that without sounding crazy. I didn’t think 911 sent out emergency vehicles for well-founded hunches.

  I looked over the abandoned-looking cabin as the soft hum of insects filled my ears.

  All still.

  There was nothing to do but go forward.

  My feet took slippery steps over the muddy ground as I crept forward. Suddenly I stopped.

  Dammit! Why did I always forget to bring a weapon?

  I searched the forest floor and decided on a good-sized stick.

  Armies of invisible chipmunks scurried around me, setting my nerves even more on edge.

  I padded up the cabin steps, and peeked in the window. My eyes went straight for the couch. No Tommy, just a crumpled-up sleeping bag. But something looked wrong about the whole scene. It took me a second to piece it together. An old TV tray now stood by the couch and from what I could see, a single piece of white paper lay waiting on top of it.

  Crap.

  I should probably just leave it and go home. Tommy obviously wasn’t here, and Candace could show up at any time … with more than a stick!

  But there was a piece of paper.

  A piece of paper that might have something written on it.

  Waiting for me.

  I placed my hand on the wood of the cabin door and gave it a small push. It swung right open. Well, that settled it. I was going in.

  I stepped over the threshold, my eyes scanning the room for hostile raccoons.

  Nothing.

  I took a step forward, and then another, cringing at the sound of my own footsteps. I made it halfway across the room before I noticed the blood.

  My eyes focused on the paper, spotted it there first. The page was smeared with something red. I then looked to the floor. It was hard to see with all the dirt, but there were smears on it too, and fat red droplets.

  My heart thudded painfully in my chest.

  I palmed my phone as I crept toward the piece of paper.

  Yup, definitely a bloody smear, vaguely in the shape of a handprint. I tiptoed around the table to read the handwritten scrawl. Even I knew better than to touch the paper.

  I squinted at the blood-covered words.

  Screw all y’all. I’m out.

  What?

  What the heck did that mean?

  A racket of noise rushed me from behind.

  “Erica Bloom!” a voice shouted. “Drop the stick, and put your hands in the air!”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Where’s Grady?”

  Rhonda hooked her thumbs into her belt and rocked on her heels. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because … I … look, Rhonda, Grady kind of let something out of the bag last night. And I don’t want to get him in trouble, but it would kind of explain why I’m here.”

  Rhonda narrowed her eyes. “Is there something wrong with your eyebrows?”

  “Why?” I asked with a nervous chuckle.

  “They just jumped in the air, twice, really quickly.”

  Law enforcement officials of all kinds swarmed around us in the tiny cabin. Their numbers had grown since Dickie’s death. Outside powers must have started taking notice.

  I leaned toward Rhonda. “I was trying to … you know … give you a wink wink, nudge nudge.”

  Rhonda considered me for a moment then asked, “Ms. Bloom, have you taken any drugs within the last twenty-four hours?”

  I leaned back and threw my hands in the air. “No, Rhonda.”

  “’Caus
e you’re acting kind of funny,” she said, rocking a little on her feet.

  “No drugs.”

  “Ms. Bloom, I believe you were told to stay out of this investigation.”

  “Okay, but Rhonda. I’m kind of on the inside now.” I glanced about the room to see if anyone was listening to our conversation. “And I was worried about Tommy.”

  “And how exactly did you know that Tommy was here? And what exactly had you so worried about Tommy that you had to rush over here at…” She looked at her watch. “Quarter to eight in the morning?”

  I smiled, but I felt a little sick to my stomach. “Maybe you should ask Candace that.” If we had any hope left of finding Tommy alive, we needed to stop wasting time.

  Rhonda crossed her arms over her chest. “All right Ms. Bloom, I’ll play. Why would I ask Candace?”

  A new thought suddenly hit me. “She called you, didn’t she? Told you I was here?”

  Rhonda turned silent.

  “I knew it! She’s setting me up, you know.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

  “What did she say to get you here?” I said, pacing a half circle around Rhonda. “That the alarm went off?”

  Her eyes narrowed even more.

  “She wanted you to find me here,” I said, stopping suddenly and spreading my hands wide. “Surrounded with all this blood.”

  “Ms. Bl—”

  “Rhonda! Call me Erica!” I shouted. “I’m sorry about the Dawg!”

  She straightened up and rolled her shoulders back, thumbs looped in her belt. “Ms. Bloom, I should warn you that I have been trained to do on-scene assessments of a person’s mental stability.”

  I closed my eyes briefly before meeting her gaze once again.

  Rhonda made a V with two fingers then pointed them at her eyes before swinging them around to me.

  “I’m not crazy! Well, no more than anyone else around this lake.”

  “Okay then. So, let me get this straight. Candace is trying to frame you for whatever happened here,” she said, scanning my face. “Except we have no evidence that Tommy … that something happened to Tommy except for that note.”

  “You and I both know that Tommy never would have resorted to suicide. He likes himself way too much for that.”

  Rhonda nodded her head a second before snapping back to her angry cop face. “Then why the note? If she did something to Tommy … why leave a suicide note?”