Dark Water: A Siren Novel

by Tricia Rayburn

  I turned slightly so that I faced him more directly—and gave the hidden voice recorder a clearer shot. “A perfect relationship, huh?” I leaned forward, rested one hand on his knee. “I’m so happy you think this is going as well as I do.”

  This stopped him for a second. His bottom lip fell away from his top, but nothing left the space between. Thinking I’d gone too far too fast, I removed my hand. He lowered his burger to his plate, took a deep breath, and continued.

  “You know how the news chalked everything up to the weird weather? Global warming, cranky Mother Nature, whatever you want to call it?”

  I breathed. Nodded.

  “Some people disagree. They think there’s more to it than that.”

  Unable to fight the urge, I reached for my water glass and took two long sips. “Like what?” I asked.

  Now his hand was on my knee. The contact sent a fast jolt shooting up and down my leg.

  “Did you ever read The Odyssey in school?”

  I hadn’t, but I knew why he asked. “Once.”

  “You remember who—or what—Odysseus encountered on his journey to Ithaca? That almost killed him?”

  I started to nod but then caught myself. “Not really. It was a while ago.”

  He leaned closer. His blue eyes glinted as they held mine. “Sirens,” he breathed.

  I expected the word but somehow, it still caught me off guard. I sat back so fast, the entire chair moved.

  “I know. It’s almost too ridiculous for fiction, so how could it be possible in real life? But believe it or not, some people think it is.”

  I struggled to stay composed. “Which people?”

  “My friends, to start. A few of them came out from California a few weeks ago and I made the mistake of mentioning it. They latched on to the idea and wouldn’t let it go the whole time they were here.”

  “Your friends … left?” I asked, remembering the voices I heard behind the boathouse.

  “They wanted to stay all summer after that, but they had jobs and significant others to get back to.”

  “Have you made other friends here?” I asked.

  “Present company excluded?” He winked. “Not really. Despite the down market, Mom’s doing pretty well in real estate, so I’ve been busy helping her.”

  And following you. And stalking other pretty girls. And killing in the bright light of day. All on my own, apparently.

  “Who told you?”

  “Sorry?” he asked.

  I forced the air down my throat, tried again. “You said you mentioned it to your friends. Who told you? Who else thinks this is a possibility?”

  “It’s the strangest thing, actually. A week or so before my friends arrived, I got this e-mail—”

  I leapt up. My knee slammed into the table, the back of my chair into the wall. I yanked my purse free and stumbled toward the hallway dividing the rear dining room from the bar.

  “Vanessa, where—”

  “Be right back!” I called over my shoulder.

  The white spots were back, ballooning and bursting across my field of vision. I rubbed my eyes as I walked, but that seemed to only make them multiply.

  Nearly blind, I was frantically feeling my way toward the restrooms when something hard knocked into my left shoulder.

  “Well, hi, there, pretty lady.”

  Recognizing the voice instantly, I stopped, flung one arm forward. My hand landed on a firm, flat surface.

  Beneath my fingertips, the fisherman’s heartbeat sped up.

  “Ready for round two?” He leaned into my hand. “I wouldn’t mind a more formal invitation … but I’m still game if you are.”

  A high-pitched note filled the space between us. I braced for the rush of energy, the same kind I’d received from the movie theater and gear shop employees … but it didn’t come. When I tried a second time, the white spots dulled and thinned enough that I could see the familiar scruffy face before me, the same one I’d first seen at the hardware store weeks before, but that was all.

  “Everything okay here?” a burly male waiter, on his way to the men’s room, asked.

  The fisherman stepped back. “Everything’s dandy.”

  “Miss?”

  I shook my head. “Yes. I’m fine.”

  The waiter blocked the fisherman. I continued down the hall and slipped into the single-person ladies’ room. I locked the door and leaned against it, gasping for air and trying to calm down.

  Colin knew that I knew. He had to—that was why he was messing with me. And I had to get it together if I wanted to play him the way I’d planned and get enough of a confession on tape that we could turn it—and him—over to the police.

  But could I? My body had begun to go downhill at the first mention of sirens, and plummeted after Colin lied about the e-mail. And when I tried to steal energy from the fisherman just now, something I hadn’t wanted to do again unless absolutely necessary, in hopes of delaying what Charlotte and Betty insisted I had to do for my long-term survival, it hadn’t worked.

  Because I couldn’t think of my future without also thinking of Simon, I fumbled through my purse for my phone. I knew his worry worsened with each passing second and I wanted to reassure him. My hands shook so hard as I typed, a text that would normally take five seconds to write took a minute.

  Everything OK so far. Getting closer to what we need. Will keep you posted. Love, V.

  The small connection to Simon was comforting. After sending the text, I felt calm enough to go to the small mirror over the sink. It was smudged and blurred, but I could still see that my makeup was cracking as my skin dried out underneath it. Trying not to panic, I turned on the water, added salt from my purse, and washed my face. Then I put on more moisturizer and redid my makeup. I was just about to brush my hair when there was a knock on the bathroom door.

  “Vanessa? Are you okay? Can I get you anything?”

  Colin. He sounded concerned. Sweet, even. Was that how he’d been with Carla and Erica? Had he won their trust before taking their lives?

  The thought was motivating. I put away my makeup, adjusted the voice recorder so it was near the top of my purse, and opened the door.

  “Can I ask you a small favor?” I asked.

  He smiled, seemingly relieved I hadn’t passed out before he could suffocate me. “Name it.”

  I opened the door wider and raised my eyebrows. He hesitated briefly, then stepped inside.

  “Not very spacious, is it?” he asked, once I’d closed the door.

  It wasn’t. The bathroom was so small, we couldn’t stand before each other without our torsos touching.

  “So,” Colin said, looking around as his face reddened, “did you need help with something, or …?”

  Since Charlotte’s trick hadn’t worked on the fisherman, I opted to save time and go with the next best thing.

  I rested my fingers lightly on the side of Colin’s face until his eyes found mine. The burst of energy was slight, but it was there, traveling down my arm. Encouraged, I stood on my toes and brought my mouth near his ear.

  “I want you to tell me,” I said softly.

  He inhaled. Exhaled. “Tell you what?”

  “What you’ve been doing.”

  “What I’ve been doing … when?”

  “The past few weeks. With the girls.”

  “What girls?” He tried to pull back. “Vanessa, I know you didn’t have to twist my arm to come in here, but trust me—I don’t just do this kind of thing. The second I saw you on that beach … I don’t know how to explain it. I just … felt this thing. This connection … you know?”

  This wasn’t the confession I was hoping for—but somehow, it was exactly what my body wanted to hear.

  I wouldn’t tell anyone about what happened next. I wouldn’t tell them how I moved my mouth from Colin’s ear, across his jawline, and to his lips. Or how we kissed for minutes on end, without once coming up for the air we so desperately needed. I wouldn’t tell them how he’d lifted
me up until I sat on the edge of the sink, and stood between my legs, and kissed wherever his mouth could reach. Most importantly, I wouldn’t tell them how good—how amazing—it felt.

  Natalie, on the other hand, was another story.

  “Oh my God.”

  I sat up, shoved Colin. He stumbled back, confused. Natalie stood frozen in the open doorway, her mouth agape.

  “Sorry.” She stepped back. “I didn’t know—I didn’t mean to—the door was unlocked and—”

  “It’s okay.” I slid off the sink, grabbed my purse. “And I can explain.”

  “You don’t have to. Really.”

  She darted into the hall, and I ran after her. As strong as I felt, Natalie was stronger—and faster. It wasn’t until she was swallowed by the bar crowd that I remembered Simon’s finding out wasn’t the worst possible consequence of what I’d just done.

  But by the time I made it back to the restroom, I was too late.

  Colin was gone.

  CHAPTER 23

  BREAKING NEWS: THIRD BODY FOUND

  Gretchen Hall, 29, was discovered by joggers in Seaview Park early this morning. Police said her fatal injuries were similar in nature to those suffered by recent victims Carla Marciano and Erica Anderson, and urged all residents, particularly women, to practice caution when traveling throughout town.

  Story developing, check back for updates.

  “Can you please close the computer?” Paige asked.

  I didn’t answer. My eyes moved from the words, to the accompanying photo of a white gazebo encircled by yellow crime-scene tape, and back.

  Paige reached over and closed the laptop. “We get it.”

  Simon, seated next to me on the employee deck, took my hand. I sat back and looked toward the harbor.

  It was July eighteenth. The anniversary of another death, and yet another day I’d never forget. Only this time, the date wouldn’t stick simply because an innocent girl had died.

  It’d stick because I’d helped kill her.

  “We have to go to the police,” Caleb said.

  “With what evidence?” Paige asked.

  “The e-mails,” Caleb said.

  “You and Simon, like, broke the entire Internet yesterday trying to track the IP addresses,” Paige reminded him. “And what’d you find?”

  Caleb sighed. “That each e-mail was sent from a different place.”

  “Where?” Paige prompted.

  “All over the country.”

  “So that would help the police how?” When no one answered, Paige continued. “What it would do is tell them that we’ve been sitting on potential clues to the identities of future victims. And correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think they’d be especially grateful to us after the fact.”

  “What about the recording?” Caleb looked at me. “Let’s listen to it. I know you didn’t get an outright confession, but there could still be something on there we can use.”

  “The stairwell door’s locked,” Paige said. “No one else will come up and accidentally hear anything.”

  I didn’t argue or try to talk my way out of it. There was no point. I squeezed Simon’s hand before releasing it, then took the voice recorder from my purse, placed it on the table, and pressed Play. As Colin’s and my voices filled the air, I watched Simon’s face, noting every wince and cringe. The expressions were fleeting, which I knew took conscious effort on his part … but they were still there.

  “Vanessa, where—”

  “Be right back!”

  I reached forward, clicked off the recorder.

  “You texted me right after that?” Simon asked. “From the bathroom?”

  I nodded.

  “And he was gone when you got back?” Caleb asked.

  “Yes.” My voice was surprisingly steady. “And again, I can’t tell you how sorry I am for leaving right then. I was so surprised by the way he talked around things, and when he said he’d gotten an e-mail … I just needed a minute to get myself together.”

  Simon leaned toward me, lowered his voice. “You have nothing to apologize for. You did what you were comfortable doing, and now we’ll come up with another plan. It’s okay.”

  Behind my sunglasses, my eyes welled briefly, then dried. My body was too depleted to cry.

  “So should we share this with the police anyway?” Caleb asked. “It might—”

  “No,” Paige and I said, at the same time.

  “It would raise way too many questions we don’t want to answer,” she added.

  I agreed. I was also more determined now than ever to keep the secret Charlotte had wanted kept between sirens—and sirens only.

  “Can I at least send them an anonymous tip that these dates match the ones from last summer?” Caleb asked. “Just in case they haven’t put that much together on their own?”

  No one could argue that. We were silent as he composed and sent an e-mail. When he was done, he closed the computer and checked his watch.

  “It’s almost seven.” He nodded to Simon. “We should probably get down there.”

  Betty’s was hosting another fishermen dinner and contest that night. Simon and Caleb, hoping Colin would make another appearance, had insisted on attending. They were going to stake out the parking lot and watch guests arrive.

  “We’ll be right outside if you need us.” Simon kissed the top of my head as he stood.

  “Be careful.” Caleb aimed this at Paige, who promised she would.

  “I don’t get it,” she said, when they were gone. “What’s this guy trying to prove? That he’s just as strong, if not stronger, than us?”

  “I’m not sure.” I took a bottle of salt water from my purse and drank. “But if someone has it in him to kill another person, he probably also has it in him to do so with no good reason.”

  “I guess.” Paige watched me finish off the bottle. “Vanessa, are you okay? Physically, I mean. You seem a little … tired, or something.”

  She was being generous. I’d examined my appearance in the mirror that morning. I’d seen my skin flaking and the bags under my eyes. I’d even found a single strand of gray hair, which I’d instantly plucked from my scalp. Paige was either too kind to tell me how terrible I looked, or too distracted. “I’ve been feeling a little off,” I admitted. “I guess my body’s been having a hard time dealing with everything that’s going on.”

  “Of course it is.” Paige reached across the table and rested one hand on my arm. “You should go home and rest. We’ll be fine.”

  “And risk being locked up forever by my parents? Who, after reading today’s paper, have probably already put up an electric fence lined with barbed wire? I don’t think so.” I didn’t add that I’d already made matters worse when I lied about where I was going when I left the house earlier. I’d planned to quit Betty’s as they’d asked but had put it off in light of recent events. “There is something else I could use, though. And I’ll need your help to get it.”

  I wasn’t even halfway through my explanation when Paige agreed.

  “You’re my best friend,” she said simply. “And I know you’d do the same for me.”

  Back downstairs, she stayed in the kitchen to talk to Louis and I headed for the hostess stand. Most of the guests had attended the first dinner and were more than happy to seat themselves when I gave them menus and asked them to sit anywhere they’d like. This saved me energy while allowing me to stay put—and not miss a single person walking through the door.

  I left my post only once, when Natalie walked by on her way to the restroom. I excused myself to the two men who’d just come in and followed her.

  “Hi,” I said, when she came out of the stall.

  She stopped, then continued to the sinks. “Hi.”

  “I just wanted to thank you,” I said, heart racing. “For not telling anyone about yesterday. I really appreciate it.”

  “Yes, well. You were nice to me during my meltdown on the beach.” She shook the water from her hands, patted them on her
apron. “Not to mention it’s none of my business.”

  “Still. Thank you. And I’m so sorry for putting you in that position. If you have a second, I’d be happy to—”

  “Vanessa, honestly. It’s not necessary. Relationships are complicated.” At the door, she turned and smiled. “Believe me, I should know.”

  She left. I still felt uneasy, but reminding myself that this was my problem and not hers to fix, I tried to shrug it off as I returned to the lobby.

  Ten minutes later, Paige joined me at the hostess stand.

  “I found him,” she said quietly.

  My heart leapt against my ribs. “Colin?” I whispered.

  “No, but way to ruin the mood.” Our eyes met. “The thing you asked me to do? I picked a guy to do it with. He’s cute, too.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “We’ll be on the back patio if you want to watch.”

  I started after her as she walked away, tempted to tell her to forget it, that I’d changed my mind. But my legs moved so slowly, she was out of hearing range before I could. I lingered by the contest table for a few minutes, pretending to check out the catches as she got situated outside, and then weaved through the crowd and toward the French doors at the back of the dining room.

  Paige hadn’t wasted time. She leaned against the stone wall enclosing the patio, her back to me. An attractive guy who looked to be in his early twenties faced her. He had light brown hair and wore khakis and a red plaid shirt, unbuttoned, over a white T-shirt. They talked, laughed, grew closer. I was twenty feet away, but I could still see the glimmer in his eyes as Paige’s power took hold and the world around them began to disappear. When his head lowered toward hers, I turned away. I was embarrassed to watch them kiss, and felt guilty, too. Paige had agreed to help without reservation, but I couldn’t help thinking I’d put my best friend in an uncomfortable situation.

  Not that she seemed uncomfortable. When she found me standing there a few minutes later, still inside the dining room, her smile lit up her whole face, her blue eyes gleamed silver, and her skin radiated pink.

  “His name’s Jaime. He’s twenty-four, from Bar Harbor—and all yours.” She handed me a glass of iced tea. “I told him I’d be right back with this.”