I closed my eyes and shook my head. I’d heard all this before.
When the last bit of tape gave way, Jack yanked his hands free and the iron ring creaked on its rusty hinge. He rubbed the circulation back into his hands, then started peeling the layers of tape off his belly gingerly, pulling off hair and skin. He cringed and made strangled cries high in his throat, grimacing and sucking at his teeth. Watching the agony on his face, it reminded me of an actual merman transformation.
Jack paused to gather himself before he started to pull off the tape on his thighs.
“Maybe if you rip it off fast it won’t hurt as much,” I said.
His face glistened with sweat and he eyed me cruelly. “Don’t watch,” he said. “Go find my clothes. I think they threw them behind that old gas tank.”
I got up and searched, grateful for something else to do. When I came back, a T-shirt and swim trunks in my hand, there was another angry ripping sound, fast and loud. He screamed; then his back hunched before he rolled over and puked in the grass.
When there was nothing more but dry heaves, Jack sat in the dust, covering his nakedness. Filthy and bleeding, he spit and wiped his mouth. I stayed back and tossed his clothes to him. He pulled on his shorts and then curled into a fetal position, his head on his knees.
“She said she loved me,” he said, his voice low. “We had plans. I put everything on hold for her. She said she wanted a baby. We were going to be a family.”
Jack’s confidences made me feel young and naive. But he must have misunderstood her. Pavati wasn’t the mothering type. And Jack was only nineteen.
“Then it got cold. And she left,” he said.
“But she must have told you she’d come back with the spring migration.”
“That’s what got me through the winter. But all spring I watched for her. She never came back. Or, I should say, she never came back for me.
“I don’t know what I was thinking—trying to have a future with her. She betrayed me. She’s not normal.” His face clouded over, and I could almost taste the bitterness on the air. “If I can’t have her …” But he never finished the thought.
We both sat in silence for several minutes. I rocked back and forth, trying to think of something reassuring to say, but I could come up with nothing.
Jack spoke first. “Whatever. I did what I could to warn everyone. I’m done trying. The next dead body is going to be on their heads. Not mine.”
I shuddered at his complete lack of hyperbole. “That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?”
“It’s a little too late to worry about what’s extreme. This whole town can go to hell for all I care.” He pushed himself to his feet and staggered into the woods.
“Don’t you want a ride?” I called out to him.
“Just stay away from me,” he said, leaving me alone on the bloodstained ground.
23
WITNESS
Big Mo’s Pizzeria was short on tables. Fifteen people hovered around the hostess station waiting for diners to clear out. Twice in the last five minutes our waitress had stopped to ask if there was anything more she could get us, and although there was nothing, we didn’t give any sign that we were ready to leave. The bill still lay turned over on the table and half the pizza remained on the round, aluminum disc. The cheese had solidified minutes ago, and pools of grease lay like millponds on the crusted pepperoni.
Jack sat across the table from Gabby and me and chewed on his straw. Mr. Pettit was making Gabby keep tabs on her brother, so Gabby insisted I come along. It had been two days since I’d found Jack bound and bleeding outside Marsden’s barn, and neither he nor I had spoken of it. In fact, we hadn’t said much of anything at all. I stayed true to my promise, and Gabby was still in the dark. She attributed my silence to not wanting to be seen with Jack in public. She got that; she’d written the book on it.
I picked at my half-eaten slice and peeled off the cheese like the sole from a leather shoe.
“So,” Gabby said. Neither I nor Jack expected her to say anything more, and we didn’t do anything to help the conversation along.
In the booth behind me and Gabby, a young family was finally seated. They corralled the littlest kid into a wooden high-chair and sighed in exasperation at the other two. “No,” said the mom. “For the last time, we’re not going swimming today.”
“But it’s hot,” whined one of the kids.
Gabby reached over me and picked up the bill. She dug in her purse and said, “Seven bucks each, cough it up.”
“Too dangerous,” said the dad behind me, and Jack and I made eye contact for the first time that day.
I pushed my plate to the edge of the table as the waitress came over to check on us again. My phone vibrated. It was Jules.
JULES: Guess what?
I threw a five and eight quarters on the table and texted: What?
JULES: Phillip’s uncle has a cabin on Madeline Island.
LILY: And?
The mom behind me responded, “Rip currents, honey. There’s been another drowning. A big boy. And if it’s too dangerous for big boys, it’s too dangerous for you.”
I watched Jack as the two conversations enfolded around me. His eyes hardened, glistening in the ambient light. For a second, I thought he was going to cry in public, and I desperately hoped he wouldn’t because that would send Gabby over the edge, but then I realized I misread him. When the dad whispered to the mom, but loud enough for us to hear, “Rip currents, my ass,” the corners of Jack’s mouth twitched, and he guzzled back the rest of his Mountain Dew.
JULES: He’s letting us use the cabin for a week. We’re coming up to visit you!
I hastily texted back to Jules: Who is we?
When the waitress returned to collect our pile of money, I asked her if she’d heard anything about another drowning.
“Yeah,” she said, lowering her voice. “Didn’t you?”
Jack leaned across the table toward me. “Told you,” he said, then to the waitress, “Tourist?”
“What’s this?” Gabby asked.
“Did you know Brady Peterman?” the waitress asked solemnly. “A little kid found his body in the rocks under the fishing pier this morning.”
I looked at Jack, and his face was ashen.
“The police are calling it an accident, but a lot of people are talking like they’re not so sure,” said the waitress.
JULES: All of us. Me Rob Phillip Zach Colleen Scott. I got a new suit!!!
I tried to swallow, but my throat was too tight. It would be hard to muster up tears for Brady. A little malicious corner of my heart almost hoped “smug arrogance” had been a satisfying, emotional meal for Maris. I was pretty sure that was the best Brady Peterman had to offer.
But Jules’s last message, and the thought of my friends being on the lake, eradicated any sadistic feeling that justice had been served. Instead, fear coiled in my belly like a little black eel.
“What are people saying?” Gabby asked.
The waitress looked surreptitiously at her manager and let a single word slip: “Murder.”
Jack, Gabby, and I ran outside and down the street toward the lake. A flimsy yellow line of police tape fluttered in the breeze and did its best to barricade the fishing pier. Jack grabbed my elbow and pulled me and Gabby toward the park.
“I want to get a better look,” he said.
“There won’t be anything to see,” Gabby said. “Besides, it creeps me out. I can’t ever remember a summer like this. I’m thinking about moving to Kansas. There’s no water there, right?”
“They won’t let this one go by without some kind of search,” Jack said, breathing hard as he pulled us along. “People knew Brady. They’re going to listen now.” Then he put his mouth to my hair. His hot breath brushed my earlobe. “You tell Calder White the clock is ticking.”
Jack ducked under the yellow tape. Gabby refused to cross, but I went after him. “Jack, we’re not supposed to be this far.”
Jack charged ahead, but I stopped in my tracks. My hand rose shakily to my mouth. A pale arm emerged from under the pier where the deck met the ground. The hand was palm up, its fingers curled eerily toward the sky.
“Hey, now, kids,” Chief Eaton said, standing up and coming our way. I hadn’t seen him there before. He’d been crouched down at the side of the pier with a camera. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice the tape.”
Jack’s face went stony, and Chief Eaton squared his shoulders. “I’m not going to have any more trouble from you, am I, Jack? People in town are going to need some time and space to grieve. I don’t want you flappin’ your lips about any of your cockamamie stories. Respect. Do you understand me?”
“Loud and clear, sir,” Jack said through his teeth.
“I’ve had a mini vacation planned for months,” Chief Eaton said. “This new accident has set me back a day, but I don’t want you ruining my fishing trip with any more unnecessary antics. No more. Got it?”
“I heard you the first time, sir.”
Chief Eaton paused to assess Jack, who stared back unflinchingly, his jaw firmly set. It didn’t take a genius to know what was really going on in his head. Even Chief Eaton could read those thoughts.
“You’d have to be cold-blooded to use a tragedy like this for your own sick gains,” said the chief.
Jack’s eyes burned with anger, and I gently turned him back toward the street. Gabby was standing there with her hands on her hips.
“And you should head on home, too, now, missy,” Chief Eaton said.
“I will,” I said, glancing back over my shoulder at him.
By the time we got to the car, Jack’s mood had withered to a dark gloom. He muttered under his breath about something never being enough. I didn’t want to ask. Instead I slid open my phone and saw I’d missed two texts.
JULES: Are you excited? It’s going to be so great. I thought maybe you and your man could show us around. Phillip’s uncle has a boat. We could check out some of those islands you were talking about.
JULES: Are you still there?
24
CONFESSION
A hand slapped down hard on the kitchen counter. “Tell me,” Mom said. “Don’t lie to me anymore, Jason.”
“You’re getting upset over nothing.” Dad’s voice was a cool contrast to Mom’s frantic plea.
“Nothing? Nothing? What is wrong with you?”
Sophie and I crept down the stairs to listen. I held my arms open, and she crawled into my lap, burying her face in my neck.
“Where are you going?” Mom asked, her voice dropping an octave. “Every day you disappear. For hours on end.”
“I told you, Carolyn. I’m working. Getting ready for classes.” From where I sat, I could see Dad’s face. It was barely recognizable. A person’s soul is in their eyes, and his were all wrong.
“Bullshit,” Mom said, and Dad winced, turning his back on her. I thought a curse from my mother’s lips would make the earth crack open. Instead, the front door slammed with an enormous bang, sending vibrations up the wooden steps and into my backside.
I shifted Sophie onto the step and ran back to my room, throwing open my window to the crisp morning air. “Dad? Dad?” I called.
I couldn’t see him, but he snapped back, “What?”
“You all right?” I asked, quiet and unsure.
“Perfect.” He took three long strides down the porch steps and across the driveway.
“Where are you going?” I called.
“Out.”
I took the screen off the window and crawled onto the porch roof just as Calder came around the side of the house. I hadn’t seen him in days, and he ignored the fact I was even there.
He grabbed Dad’s shoulder and stopped him in his tracks. “Give her another try, Jason. You need to give it time to work.”
“I tried to do it like you told me, but it’s no use. I only feel worse.”
“Dad, please don’t go,” I said, creeping closer to the gutter. “I haven’t seen you in two weeks.”
He didn’t turn around. He only shook off Calder’s hand and ran into the woods. I watched him go, forcing myself not to ask Calder the questions that hung in the air between us: Was Dad’s betrayal complete? Had he left us for good? I knew the answers. To have Calder confirm them aloud would only make them more real.
Calder was smart enough and kind enough to be silent. He seemed to be listening for something, anyway—something too far away for me to hear. After a moment, he said, “That’s that, then.”
He hung his head and walked to his car. I watched as he climbed in the back and lay down on the seat. His feet hung out the door, and he threw one arm over his face. Only in that gesture did he answer me. Dad wasn’t coming back. And I couldn’t help thinking it was all my fault. If I’d never told him the truth about what he was, he’d be a normal dad, in the kitchen doing crossword puzzles.
Running back downstairs, I found Mom in the living room. When she heard me coming she drew the back of her hand across her eyes.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“What does it look like?”
She was going to have to work harder to deter me. “He’ll be back,” I said, hoping it wasn’t a lie. Even if I didn’t believe it, I needed to get the words out for her. Even if she didn’t believe me, she needed to hear them.
Mom moved slowly into the kitchen, wetted a rag, and started wiping down all the surfaces. “He’s always gone. He comes home late, if he comes home at all. He hasn’t slept here in nearly a week. I think it’s pretty clear what’s going on, Lily.”
“No, Mom. It may be many things, but it is definitely not clear.”
“Tell me I’m being silly.”
“Dad’s not having an affair, if that’s what you’re saying. I know that much for certain.”
“He never used to lie to me. I know life hasn’t been easy since I got sick. I wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to leave.”
“Dad loves you. He needs you to be happy. Try and fake it if you have to. I can’t explain, Mom, but you have to trust me. If you’re angry, if you’re sad, it’ll be harder for him to come back.”
She laughed one hard laugh and threw the rag into the sink. “Seems a little circular, don’t you think, babe? It’s the coming home that will make me happy, not the other way around. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be having this conversation with you. Fine bit of parenting, isn’t it? Never mind, never mind. I think I just need to take a bath. A bath and a nap.”
A small whimper drifted down the stairwell and Mom rearranged her expression. “Can you take Sophie out for a bit? She’s been cooped up with me so much. Go do something fun with her. That would help me a lot.”
The noontime sun blazed down on us as we bobbed a safe thirty feet from our dock—me, Sophie, and Calder—in our small, aluminum fishing boat. A blue plastic cooler sat by my feet. Water sloshed gently against the hull. None of us spoke. Worry roiled in my head like storm clouds. I hoped that was the only reason Calder wouldn’t look at me, and it wasn’t that he was still mad about my eavesdropping, or worse, holding back an I told you so. You should have never told your dad the truth.
Why hadn’t I believed him when he said it was a bad idea? Surely he had better instincts when it came to merman matters than I did. But no, I had to go plowing ahead, so certain it was the right thing. Dad would have never left if I’d only kept quiet.
Sophie reached into her pocket and pulled out the prism from her Girl Scout project. She dangled it over the side of the boat and let the sun work its magic. A spray of sparkling color reflected off the water and the side of the metal boat. Rainbow beams twirled around in a circle, hitting our faces, as the prism spun on its string.
“What are you doing, Sophie?” I asked.
“Fishing,” she said, as if this should be obvious. She wouldn’t look at me, either.
Calder shifted in his seat and kept his head buried in an old National Geographic.
“You’ll hav
e better luck if you put some bait on a hook,” I said. “Maybe they’d like salami.” I grabbed a sandwich from the cooler and broke off a corner for her.
“You fish your way,” she said. “I’ll fish mine.”
Calder didn’t seem as amused by her as I was, and seconds later the first lake trout darted toward the surface, knocking its side against our boat with a soft thud.
“See?” she said smugly. “They like the colors.” My skin prickled when she added, “Isn’t that right, Calder?”
Calder laid down his magazine but kept his eyes cast down. He dragged his foot through the scattering of sand on the bottom of the boat.
Sophie continued, “I was playing with the prism one day when I was working on my Girl Scout project. A whole bunch of fish started circling around the dock. I put the prism away, and they went away. When I pulled it out again, they came back. Calder likes prisms, too.” She looked up, seeing for the first time the way I stared at her.
“Don’t be mad!” she said, looking away quickly. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Calder asked, “What do you know, Sophie?” His tone was serious but nonthreatening.
She shrugged. “I watch. People think I’m too little to notice stuff, but I know.”
Sophie spoke only to Calder now. “You and my dad disappear. You’re gone for a long time. When you come back, your hair is wet. When I hug Dad, he’s cold. Once when you came back—you weren’t here, Lily—you found my prism and dangled it over your head. I know what you are. I know Dad is the same.”
“That’s enough,” Calder said, and Sophie shut up, her cheeks flushing scarlet.
I leaned forward, touching her arm. How long had she known? Why hadn’t she come to me? She must have so many questions.
Sophie reached over the side of the boat and tickled a silver fish. “I watch you, too, Lily.”
Okay. Now you can shut up.
“I know what you’ve been doing with the stopwatch.”
Calder’s expression went from sad to anxious.
Deep Betrayal (Lies Beneath #2) Page 15