I continue toward the second dock, then pad past it. Hearing a movement in the woods above the path, I stop. Someone is coming. Twitching an ear in that direction, I pick up the sound of whistling. It's a mournful sound, not a happy one, and I don't recognize the song. I jump into the brush to watch.
Noah is alone. Instead of going up onto the dock, he sets his backpack on the ground and assembles his nifty telescopic fishing rod. He continues whistling as he ties a lure. Then he takes his boots and socks off, wiggling his toes like a happy child. There's no way for me to tell him I can sense that there are no fish around here now. Not a single one that he can catch and release, as is his usual practice in the morning. It's an odd morning habit for a young man to have, but some do look at fishing as a form of meditative relaxation. I only fish occasionally. A little dirt I don't mind, but I'm no fan of bodies of water.
While he stands, casting, waiting, I walk silently toward the water. There's a sense of disturbance in the air, and I have to know what it is.
With Noah still whistling quietly nearby, the first thing I see that's out of place is a bare foot in the mud. A human foot that's dark with mud and debris. It's a horrifying sight to see a single human foot out here, and I find myself singularly relieved that there is a leg attached to it, and a body attached to that.
I keep my nose close to the ground as I investigate. The body is a woman's. Her well-shaped, tan legs are bare, and from her knees upward she's half-submerged in the water, her eyes staring, open, and her arms spread as though she is crying out for an embrace. Tendrils of shortish blond hair swirl away from her head and float on the water's surface like the tentacles of a disorganized jellyfish. It takes me a moment, but I recognize her. A low, unconscious growl escapes my throat. This is no accidental drowning.
I wait, watching carefully for signs of life, but I know a dead body when I see one. Julie Berry is beyond help. Unafraid, I move toward her and rest my paw on her ankle. It's as cold as the disgusting mud in which I stand, colder, perhaps, than the summer-warmed lake. She's been dead for hours, at least.
Someone must be told. It's a known fact that whoever discovers a dead body is the first suspect, and the second is the person's spouse or significant other. I do know that Julie Berry's ex-husband doesn't live here, so it looks like Noah is about to have a big problem. But there's nothing for it. He must be the one to find her.
I jump onto the dock, startling him as he's about to cast.
"Hey, cat. You scared the hell out of me!" He glances around, surely looking for Erin. When he doesn't see her, he looks disappointed. "I've got nothing for you, dude. Just got started myself. I didn't even bring my creel with me this morning. Strictly a dry run."
I give him a throaty meow.
He shrugs. "I'm really sorry."
I meow again, and turn toward the body to direct his attention, but he goes back to casting. Humans can be so clueless. I repeat myself twice to no avail.
If cats could sigh, I would heave a large one.
As a last resort I jump down from the dock, and walk over to him, twining around his legs so that he almost loses his balance.
"Hey, what the heck, cat?"
What I do next is not very gentlemanly, I fear, but he clearly isn't getting the message. I bite him solidly on the big toe of his bare foot—not drawing blood, of course. I dash away and stand on the dock to meow at him repeatedly. He will listen to me!
This time he curses and drops the fishing pole to grab his toe. Erin, and certainly Tammy, would have laughed to see him jumping around as he was. But then they would not have been so obtuse.
Finally, scowling at me, he calms and says, "What is it?"
With considerable relief I turn and jump off the dock, within feet of the body, knowing that he will follow. When I land, I give another insistent meow! just in case. But I needn't have.
The sun breaks over the horizon, spreading Noah's shadow over me.
"Oh, shit."
Alarm and confusion flicker over his face. I feel sorry for him, and sorry that his life, and Erin's, are about to get very complicated. Finally coming to himself, he reaches for the phone in his back pocket. That's my cue to run to the house to alert Erin.
* * *
“You didn’t touch anything, right? Like I told you on the phone?”
Chief Deputy Zach Wilkins, squatting in the mud near the body, looked up at Noah.
Noah already regretted calling Zach's cellphone before he called 911, but he'd been so freaked out he hadn't been thinking. Would it look bad to the rest of the cops? Surely Zach would put in a good word. “I waited right here. On the dock. I was just pacing, I guess. I've never seen a dead body before. Not even at a funeral. You'd think I'd have seen one, right? Nobody I know has ever died. I don't even know the woman. I mean, I know who she is, but I never really talked to her except maybe on Sunday. Is that a problem? Do you think they—”
"Whoa, son. Take a breath." Zach came over to put a hand on Noah's shoulder. "You go sit on the bank, okay? Right over there." He pointed. "Call in to work and tell them you won't be there until later. I don't want you to get docked for not having cause.”
"But what do I tell them?" Hey, I found a body in the lake this morning. How weird is that? Be in later. That didn't sound right. It sounded crazy.
"Tell them you're helping the police with a matter they're looking into, and that you'll be there as soon as you can. Mr. Walsh will know about it soon enough. Sheriff's giving him a call."
"If he doesn't know something's up already." Noah gestured toward the trees. From beyond them came the sound of approaching sirens. After he'd called Zach, he thought first of Erin. No one needed to start the day with a dead body practically in their back yard, and Julie Berry was a close friend of Erin's family. It seemed to him a horrible kind of coincidence that Erin's mother was killed, Shelby Rae was kidnapped, and now, Julie Berry was dead.
But it means I'll see her again. Sitting down on the bank, he had a brief fantasy of enfolding her in his arms, comforting her. Stop it! He told himself. Seriously, was that where he was going with this? That really did sound crazy.
Zach went back to the body, looking at it from different positions, but he didn't touch it. Noah had seen the woman's expressionless and strangely doll-like eyes. He remembered his mother's old baby dolls his grandmother kept in her attic. Their gazes seemed to see into some other world. Was Julie Berry looking at another world now? Was she looking down on them? He looked up at the sky as though he might see her soul there, hovering.
The sirens, close now, broke through his thoughts, reminding Noah he had to call Earl at the dealership. As he talked, he fumbled his words, and struggled to keep his voice under control. Earl asked if he'd been drinking, an unexpected note of humor in his voice. Everyone knew Noah was a straight guy, the one who was sober enough to drive the other guys home when their partying got out of hand.
"No. No. I had breakfast with my mom before work. No drinks."
"You're with the police? What's going on, kid?"
The sirens stopped, and Noah heard car doors slamming and voices shouting.
"I gotta go. See you later."
Jocko came running from the direction of the house, barking madly. Erin was right behind him looking about fifteen years old with her hair loose, and her face flushed with sleep.
When she got close, Noah stood, reaching out to stop her. "You don't want to go over there."
"What is it? What happened?" She tried to push past him, but he grabbed her arms.
A small crowd of uniforms appeared on the wooded rise above them and moved quickly along the path, their voices raised, radios crackling. Jocko ran in frantic circles, still barking.
"Tell me what's going on," Erin demanded. "Let go of me!"
"Promise you'll stay right here, okay? Just wait. I'll tell you everything." Reluctantly, Noah turned her loose and to his surprise, she stayed where she was. Their attention turned to the group spilling off the path: two EMTs
, the sheriff, and another deputy.
Erin called for Jocko, but he ignored her.
"Bruce! You folks stay right over there. Got it?" the sheriff called. "This is a crime scene."
Only then did Noah notice Erin's father hurrying down the path from the house, buttoning his sport shirt. Far behind him, Shelby Rae, in a filmy robe, was also calling to Bruce, telling him to please wait, wait!
Crime scene. Of course Noah knew they were standing at a crime scene, but he hadn't been able to think of it that way yet. This was where he came fishing. Where he and Erin started to get to know one another. Now it was something else entirely, invaded by the corpse of a woman they all knew.
Unlike Erin, Bruce Walsh didn't hesitate as he approached, and Noah didn't try to stop him. He barely acknowledged Noah's and Erin's presence. He'd finished buttoning his shirt and was headed for Zach and the body in the water.
"What the hell's going on here? Who is it, Abel?"
Shelby Rae, breathing heavily, reached Erin and Noah. Jocko, spotting her, came running and sat at her feet, vibrating.
Though Noah had to admit Shelby Rae had a certain sexual appeal, he found himself unmoved by her dishabille. When she adjusted a flopping strap beneath the edge of the nearly transparent robe, Noah looked away, before someone caught him staring. It wasn't just her unconscious immodesty that drew his attention. She had a bruise on her face she’d tried to cover with makeup, and her hair was different. Blonder and shorter.
"Who is it? Is someone dead?" she asked. "Bruce, where are you going?"
Ignoring the calls of both Shelby Rae and the sheriff, Bruce didn't stop walking until he saw Julie Berry's bare legs, and the rest of her body. He froze as though he'd hit a wall.
"Dear God. It's Julie. That's Julie. What in the hell is she doing here?"
"Bruce, I need you to get on back." The sheriff waved him away.
"But it's my property, Abel. I should get a say."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Walsh. It doesn't work that way." This time it was Zach Wilkins telling him.
"I might have known you'd be here." Bruce's voice was filled with sudden venom. All the courteousness and forgiveness he'd shown Zach Wilkins since his wife's death disappeared.
Zach didn't respond but turned away to direct the EMTs where they should step to get close to the body.
"Noah Daly?" The sheriff stopped in front of Erin and Noah. He took a moment to greet Shelby Rae. "Ma'am. Hell of a morning."
"Sheriff." Shelby Rae gave him a wan smile.
"Yes, sir?" Noah felt a lot calmer now.
"Chief Deputy Wilkins says you found the body."
"I came fishing this morning. By myself. I didn't see her at first."
"What do you mean?"
Noah struggled to answer. He felt uncomfortable and conspicuous in his white work T-shirt. "I didn't see her until about five minutes after I got here.” He hesitated.
"What?" This from Bruce. "What did you see?"
"Well, it was the cat, Sheriff. The black cat from the house."
"His name is Trouble." Erin pointed to the cat sitting quietly a dozen feet away, seemingly staring out at the lake. "That's him."
The sheriff glanced that way but was uninterested. "And? Speak up, son."
"It was like he was trying to get my attention. To show me the body. I usually fish from the dock."
"But you didn't today?"
"No sir."
"So the cat took you to the body? That's what you're telling me?"
Erin spoke out. "He's a very smart cat, Sheriff. His owner says he's helpful with solving mysteries." She blushed slightly, and Noah wanted to defend her from the sheriff's skepticism.
The sheriff's eyes swept over the small group, and came back to Noah. Was it Noah's imagination, or was he looking at him accusingly? "You didn't see or hear anyone else?"
Noah shook his head. Who else might there have been? It hit him all of a sudden. The sheriff was thinking of his father, probably imagining that they had killed Julie Berry together.
Noah knew he hadn't done it. But there were no guarantees when it came to his father. His gut churned.
Finally, the sheriff turned around. "Bruce, you all go up to the house for the next little while."
Both Bruce and Erin started to protest, but the sheriff simply raised one hand. Behind Erin, Shelby Rae didn't make a sound. She was staring at the area where the body was. Noah considered it was a good thing that neither she nor Erin could see past Zach who stood over it.
"I'll see you up there," the sheriff said by way of dismissal. "Nobody go anywhere until after we talk again."
* * *
Noah entered the house right behind Trouble. He supposed the cat was some kind of hero having found the body, and Noah almost smiled to see how alert his ears and full black tail were, as though he were proud of himself. But smiling wouldn't be appropriate with Julie Berry so newly dead.
No one seemed to know what to do once they reached the kitchen.
Noah watched Shelby Rae sit down at the hand-hewn, antique table that once probably seated a family of ten. Like Erin, she looked younger this morning, but the difference with Shelby Rae was that he'd never seen her without makeup. He hadn't known her, until he started at the dealership, and he could see now why she was reputed to have won beauty contests when she was a teenager. Her eyes were large and vulnerable, and her mouth softer without her omnipresent bright lipstick. She was looking expectantly from Erin to her husband. At first she didn't seem to notice that Noah was there, and that was fine with him. He had just been...trespassing. Well, maybe not exactly trespassing. Erin's father had invited him to fish any time, but the last place he’d expected to be at seven-thirty in the morning was in the Walshes' kitchen.
The sun was higher, and Noah noticed how the crisp light showed the bank of windows along the back wall to be dirty at their corners and edges as though someone had only sprayed the center of the glass and wiped in careless circles. There were black hairs, presumably from the cat, on the counter closest to him. The light wasn't kind to Bruce Walsh's face, either. Unlike his wife and daughter, he looked older and very tired—definitely not the same outgoing guy he was at the dealership.
Erin paced, chewing at a thumbnail. He hadn't noticed her bitten nails before. That she was anxious in that way told him more about her than a hundred hours spent together could. She seemed to be ignoring him. Was she angry with him, or simply consumed with grief?
Shelby Rae finally broke the silence. "What in the world was Julie doing here? And what do they expect us to do? Spend all day waiting for Abel or one of his buddies to come question us? I don't think so."
"Shelby Rae, Julie is dead. She was one of our oldest friends." Bruce's voice was low and serious. "Of course there are going to be questions. We need to give them all the help we can. Somebody might have killed her.
"Don't patronize me," Shelby Rae said sharply. "I'm not an idiot. Just so they don't try to frame us or something because we were all here this morning." She looked directly at Noah. Her eyes were cold. "We were all home, anyway." Now her gaze moved to Erin. "Unless maybe you were on a sunrise fishing trip with your new friend here, Erin?"
She made the words sunrise fishing trip sound like a previously unknown sex act, and Noah opened his mouth to object. But Erin was on it, ready to defend herself.
"You heard me talk to Dad. You heard him tell me that something was going on outside before any of us went downstairs. Are you deaf?"
Shelby Rae shrugged. "I don't pay any attention to what you do anymore." She turned to Noah. "She's a big girl. She doesn't need my help like she used to." Her gauzy robe draped open as she leaned forward, exposing the rise of her full, satin-clad breasts.
Noah willed himself to look at her face. Look at her face. Look at her face, not her chest. How could he even be thinking about a woman's body? His boss's wife's body? He didn't even like her. Maybe he imagined it, but he could have sworn he saw the corners of Shelby Rae's lips twitch,
as though she knew the brief internal skirmish he was having. Caught you looking—can't help yourself, right? Poor guy. But it was her reaction that instantly shut down his attention. She wasn't so special or attractive or sexy that he was inclined to play games with her, especially in front of Erin. In fact, he was now feeling a little grossed out by Shelby Rae’s flirty act. That didn't mean that he thought she was involved in Julie Berry's death. He understood that she was the kind of person who was always acting, even when the situation didn't call for it.
"Well, Jocko and I are going back to bed. It's all so awful. Maybe she had a heart attack. It wasn't like she was young. She must've been almost sixty, right?"
"Forty-five." Bruce cleared his throat before continuing. "The same age Rita would have been."
Noah spoke up. "She could have been taking a walk and had a heart attack." He remembered the way her hair had floated around her head, as if trying to arrange itself. "Even if someone did kill her—and really, why would anyone?—they could've dumped her from a boat, right? It would have been easy." His father didn't have a boat, but a few of his buddies did. But what possible motive could his father have?
Bruce nodded. "That's possible."
"Did you see a lot of footprints?" Erin asked Noah.
"Some, but she was mostly in the water, so they could've washed away. Plus I didn't get a really good look until after Zach showed up."
"Oh, please." Shelby Rae sighed dramatically, which was, of course, the only way she knew how to sigh. "Come on, Jocko." She snapped her fingers and the dog sprang to attention from his bed underneath a built-in desk. "Let me know when all you Sherlocks have it figured out, and wake me up. But not before ten o'clock." She stopped to kiss Bruce on the cheek. "Join me?"
Bruce looked tired. "I'll wait for Abel. You get some rest."
"All right, darling. If he wants to talk to me, ask him if it can wait until this afternoon, please. I don't need this after what..." She stopped, glancing at Noah, who was sure she had no idea that he was aware she'd been kidnapped.
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