Dark Waters (The Jeff Resnick Mysteries)

by Bartlett, L. L.

  “Thanks,” I managed, feeling like I might never catch my breath again.

  I shut my eyes and thanked God, and Sophie, and Zeus, and all the gods on Mount Olympus. But I also knew that we were a hell of a long way from being safe. Earlier the temperature had been in the low sixties. It was a lot colder than that and we were both soaked.

  I looked up at Da-Marr. “Where the hell were you?” I hollered once I could speak once more.

  “Lookin’ around. Man, this boat is one big piece of shit. Half of it’s missing!” Da-Marr yelled.

  I studied his face. His left cheek bore a deep cut, still oozing with blood, and his hands were just as bloodied as mine. How long had it been since I’d had a tetanus shot?

  I sat up and looked around. Since childhood, I’d seen many pictures of the old scow, but never an aerial view, and never in my wildest fantasies did I think I’d ever board her. She’d originally carried sand and rocks after a dredging operation, but the rusty cargo compartment before us was empty. I’d heard that the guys who’d originally been stranded on the barge had shifted more than a ton of their cargo to help stabilize the craft. They’d been rescued without any loss of life. Would we be as lucky?

  “What the hell do we do now?” Da-Marr demanded.

  I shrugged. “Wait.”

  “For what?”

  “Rescue. It’s been done before.”

  “How?”

  I thought about what I’d learned in school about the barge’s last passengers. It had been a long time ago. “Some soldiers shot a rope from a cannon and then saved the two guys who were stranded in a breeches buoy.”

  “A what?”

  “It’s like a pulley on a rope. They hauled them along on a line over the river.”

  “Ain’t nobody hauling me over this damn river,” Da-Marr cried.

  That only left one other way of rescue.

  I looked up at the darkening sky, but couldn’t really tell if it was raining or if it was just the thick mist from the thundering cataract ahead of us.

  Da-Marr followed my gaze. “A helicopter?”

  I nodded, but the thought sickened me, especially if the weather worsened.

  Da-Marr shook his head. “I don’t think so. I don’t like flying.”

  “But you flew here from Philadelphia.”

  “That was a on a plane — with big engines. And I Googled the safety record of the airline before I said I’d come. Helicopters crash — a lot. Uh-uh, I ain’t gonna get rescued by no fucking helicopter.”

  If I recalled correctly, the guys who’d crashed the barge on the rocks had had to spend a long day and night onboard before they were rescued. That had been during the summer. This was fall, and the temperature might fall to the forties overnight.

  “Do you want to die of hypothermia?” I hollered.

  “Hypo what?”

  “Hypothermia. Where your body temperature drops low enough to kill you.”

  Da-Marr’s brow wrinkled. “Didn’t you say you had that and lived?”

  “Yeah, but it wasn’t fun.”

  “How’d you do it?”

  I grimaced. “Some guy tried to kill me. I managed to tie him up and then … I hugged him all night.”

  Da-Marr pulled away, his mouth dropping open in horror. “That’s sick.”

  I shrugged. “It saved my life. I saved both our lives.”

  He shook his head again. “I’d rather die.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  I looked around us. To our left was the old Canadian power plant that had been shut down for decades. Small islands with a few scrub trees about to lose their leaves were to the right. I couldn’t see the American shore through the mist.

  Someone must have seen Easy Breezin’ travel down the river. Someone must have reported it to the authorities — both American and Canadian.

  Please, God, please let someone have reported it.

  Crowds of frustrated rubberneckers had gathered in Niagara Falls State Park, hoping for a glimpse of the men stranded on the old scow. “We should have brought our passports,” Richard groused and checked the Twitter feed on his phone once more. The car radio had been useless when it came to finding news on what had happened, but at least the online community (#strandedNiagaraFalls) had been active for the past hour or so.

  “I didn’t bring my passport,” Evelyn said, her voice catching.

  “I don’t want to go to Canada,” Brenda said. “I mean not today. Not now. Take me to Niagara on the Lake and the Oban Inn any other time, but no adventure to Canada today, please.”

  Richard glanced over at her, noting her pinched expression. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. If he had to include an adverb, he would have said, bravely. Hadn’t Jeff said the baby would come today or tonight? Please — not now!

  Two men were stranded on the old scow — but who? Da-Marr and his cohort in crime, Bobby? Jeff and Da-Marr? Jeff and Bobby? There’d been a report of someone going over the falls, but the body hadn’t surfaced — might not for several agonizing days, and so far there’d been no description of the stranded men.

  Richard swallowed down his rising panic, staring through the windshield at the darkening landscape. It would be full dark in only minutes.

  His cell phone chimed, startling him. “Hello?”

  “Mr. Alpert? This is Captain Gainer from the Niagara Falls Police Department. I wanted to give you an update on our plan to rescue the stranded men.”

  “Yes, please do.”

  “All you have to do is look out the window to see the weather isn’t good. It may not be possible to rescue them until the morning.”

  “Captain, I’m a doctor. I’m pretty sure I know what these men are up against. They’ve been stranded for hours in the rain, let alone subject to the mist from the falls. The temperature is dropping. That’s a pretty lethal combination.”

  “I understand that, sir, and I don’t mean to sound unfeeling, but we can’t sacrifice four people trying to rescue two. We also have no idea if one of the stranded men is your brother.”

  “I don’t care who’s out there, Captain. I just want them to be rescued.”

  “I understand that, sir. I invite you to come to the Niagara helicopter tours site up on Main Street by the big hotel — not far from the Rainbow Bridge.”

  “I know the place.”

  “I’ll meet you there. And sir, I hope your brother can be brought home safely.”

  “Thank you, Captain.”

  Richard ended the call.

  “Well?” Brenda asked.

  “They want us to wait at the commercial helicopter site, but they’re saying the weather might not guarantee they’ll attempt a rescue until tomorrow morning.”

  “But aren’t they worried about them suffering from hypothermia?” Brenda cried.

  From the backseat came a strangled cry. “Oh, my Lord, Da-Marr … what have I done by bringing you here?”

  “Evie,” Brenda admonished. “You just hush. If there’s one person on this earth who knows how to survive, it’s our Jeffy. He’s got a knack for escaping death.”

  “But you don’t know who’s out there — maybe it’s not Da-Marr. Maybe it’s that terrible man who led him astray.”

  Brenda closed her eyes and breathed deeply for a few moments. “Jeffy isn’t dead. I would know it if he was.”

  “Don’t you give me that crap that Grammie used to spew.”

  “You don’t believe?” Brenda asked, her voice tinged with surprise.

  “Not for a moment,” Evelyn practically spat. “Second sight? There’s no such thing.”

  Brenda looked at Richard, and they both managed to produce the shadow of a smile.

  “You’d be surprised what we believe,” Richard said.

  “Nonsense,” Evelyn declared.

  Richard started the car. “If you ladies don’t mind, I think we should follow the Captain’s advice and go wait at the commercial helicopter site.”

  “I agree,” Brenda said
, but her voice sounded strained. “But can we make a pit stop. I really have to pee.”

  “There’s a big hotel right near the helicopter site. We’ll stop there first.”

  “Bless you,” Brenda said.

  Blessed. They’d have to be to survive this terrible night — or maybe for Jeff to survive this terrible night. But who was he stuck with out in the middle of the Niagara River — in the cold and the dark? Da-Marr had tormented him, and if it wasn’t Da-Marr, how safe would he be with the other person who’d been on the boat when it had taken off from the marina?

  Richard shifted the car into drive and hit the accelerator. It was going to be a long, long evening — maybe night. And what if Brenda went into labor? Where was his loyalty? To his brother or to his wife?

  He was pretty sure he knew, and yet he also knew that no matter what choice he made there’d be guilt that would follow him for years and years to come.

  Chapter 29

  I was pretty sure that, despite my previous experience out on Mount Mansfield, I’d never been quite as cold as I was at that very moment. The rain, the wind, and the spray all conspired to kill me — us. When the light evaporated, we’d retreated to the empty cargo area. Even though we sloshed in icy water, it was better than falling into the treacherous river. Da-Marr stood defiantly with his back to me several feet away, his arms clutching his chest. Even in the almost nonexistent light I could see he was shivering just as badly as I was. Shivering was good. It meant that our bodies were still trying to make heat. When we stopped shivering — it was time to worry.

  Talking was almost out of the question. We were both hoarse from shouting to be heard over the roar of the river and the falls, and what did we have to talk about, anyway?

  My fallback in times of terrible stress had always been reciting the times tables. Two times two, three times three, all the way to twelve times twelve. But instead I dwelled on thoughts of Maggie and her mother-in-law. Would her ex keep his promise and come back to take care of his mother this weekend? If Rich knew about what had happened, would he call her when he didn’t know the outcome, or wait until he had the worst to report? Would she cry for me? Would she be sad for a few days and then carry on? It bothered me that she might get over me a lot faster than she would have if this had happened a year before. In fact, she’d been frantic with worry when I’d faced hypothermia back in Vermont. But a lot had happened since then. We’d only really reconnected in the previous few days after months of awkward attempts.

  Moving on to another subject, I worried about Herschel. What would he do without me? Carry on. That’s what he’d done when my father died and I acquired him rather than see him go to a kill shelter. In retrospect, it was one of my better decisions. Maggie was fond of him; I was fairly certain she’d find him a good home, although I would much rather she kept him — if only to remember me by.

  You’re not dead yet.

  I wasn’t about to think about Betsy Ruth. If so, I was sure I’d lose it and then Da-Marr would be ragging on me and calling me Pussy once again.

  Okay, two times two is four. Three times two is six ….

  “Hey!” Da-Marr shouted.

  I turned to look at him, not that I could see more than just a silhouette.

  “I’m frozen down to my soul. Can you really die from being this cold?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah!” I shouted.

  “I ain’t hugging no other man, but maybe if we could stand back to back, then at least one part of me would be warmer.”

  I shrugged, realized he probably hadn’t seen it, and agreed aloud.

  We moved closer until our wet backs touched. He was taller than I was by six or seven inches, so I was more likely to benefit from this new arrangement than he was.

  He groused about something, but I wasn’t sure what he’d said.

  I turned and shouted in the direction of his left ear. “What?”

  He turned his head, too. “I said where’s the damn helicopter?”

  “Delayed by weather.”

  “Nah, they just don’t care ’cause I’m black.”

  “Bullshit. For all they know, it could be me and Bobby here. That is, if they even know about him.”

  “What do you know?” he asked sourly.

  “I lot more than you, apparently.”

  “Sure. Spoiled little pussy white boy. You had all the advantages. Not like a black kid like me.”

  “Excuse me, but from what I understand, you ain’t from da hood. You’re just a middle class kid with a ’tude.”

  He ignored my comment and went on. “You had everything handed to you; living in a rich house and all.”

  “Like hell. I grew up in the hood.”

  “Did not.”

  “Did too.”

  “No shit?”

  “No shit.”

  “But what about Richard?” he asked,

  “He didn’t even know I existed until I was fourteen.”

  “I thought he was your bro.”

  “Half-brothers. He didn’t live with our mother.”

  “But you went to college,” he asserted.

  “Two years, thanks to the GI Bill.”

  “Pussy boy like you was in the Army?”

  “Worst four years of my life.”

  “Then you came home and lived high,” he said with contempt.

  “No, then I moved to a shitty, roach-infested, studio apartment in Manhattan, where I lived until I got married.”

  “You got no wife now,” Da-Marr sneered.

  “No. Thanks to her cocaine habit, she had the top of her head blown off from her supplier when she couldn’t pay.”

  It was a long few moments before Da-Marr replied. “That’s tough.” The words weren’t right, but his tone held far more compassion than I thought him capable of. “So then you got mugged,” he said.

  “Yeah. A little over eighteen months ago. Ruined my career. I’m grateful Richard was willing to help me out.”

  “And now you’re a bartender?”

  “Hey, I’m lucky to have that job. I had my head caved in. There’s not a lot I’m qualified to do these days.”

  “And the guys who did it looked like me?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Sorry, man.”

  “That’s okay,” I said, but I wasn’t sure I meant it.

  “No, really. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I been messing with you. I figured you were just some asshole. I should have asked more questions. I should have been nicer. That’s the way my mama brought me up.”

  Once again, the ghetto slur had disappeared from his voice.

  “I accept your apology.”

  He was quiet for long few minutes; minutes filled with the roar of the falls, and the icy raging river not more than a couple of feet away.

  “I’ve had a lot of time to think these past couple of hours,” Da-Marr said.

  “Yeah?”

  “And … I’ve got lots more to think about.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, me, too.”

  After that, we didn’t talk much. What was there to say? The old scow had sat in the Niagara River for almost a hundred years. Chances were it wasn’t going to go anywhere that night, either. And the chances were that if the weather cleared enough there was a good shot we might get rescued.

  If we didn’t die of hypothermia first.

  Our situation was bad. Worse than when I’d been stranded in Vermont.

  It sucked that I’d had to face the same possible end in just over a year.

  I was tired of a life that sucked.

  Puddles the size of ponds riddled the large expanse of asphalt in the parking lot of Niagara’s Wonders Air Tours. Instead of being filled with the cars of eager tourists, it was filled with police cars from three different jurisdictions, state trooper cruisers, and a couple of ambulances. Outside of the police perimeter, every Buffalo TV station had positioned a van with a satellite uplink, ready to report the
daring rescue of the stranded men on the old scow.

  The problem was … there didn’t seem to be a rescue at hand.

  Sam had never caught up with Richard. Was he out there, too?

  “What’s the holdup?” Brenda cried, her voice filled with strain.

  Richard couldn’t do anything but shrug. He reached out his hand to her and she grabbed it, holding on far too tight. “Hey, are you okay?”

  “No, I’m not. And neither are you or Evie.”

  Evelyn had left the car to stand under an umbrella some ten feet away. She kept staring at her shoes and seemed unwilling to commiserate with them. It was obvious she blamed herself for the situation, which was totally ridiculous. Well, maybe she was a little bit responsible, but it was nothing Richard felt he was ever going to speak of.

  A Niagara Falls patrol officer approached the Mercedes and Richard hit the button to roll down the window. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Dr. Alpert, but there’s a woman at the perimeter who claims she’s a family member and wants to be let in. A Ms. Maggie Brennan.”

  “Of course she’s family,” Brenda cried.

  “Yes,” Richard agreed. “She’s family.”

  The cop nodded, tipped his hat, and soon disappeared into the gloom beyond the big mercury vapor lights that lit the lot as though it was day.

  Richard turned to Brenda for an explanation.

  “I called her a while back when you were talking to one of the cops,” she admitted. “Would you have wanted to risk her wrath if I hadn’t?”

  He shook his head. “I just didn’t want to worry her.”

  Brenda leveled the evil eye on him.

  “I’m sorry. And you’re right. She’d never forgive us.”

  Seconds later the blue Hyundai pulled up alongside Richard’s car and Maggie got out. Brenda opened the passenger door and practically jumped out of the car, shuffle-hop-running as fast as she could move in her advanced state of pregnancy. Richard got out of the car as the women collided in a fierce hug. By the time he reached them, they were both sobbing hysterically.