“Thank you.” I hugged her.
“No problem. Anytime you need me to do that again, I’m more than happy to help. Trust me.”
She headed for the microphone on the other side of the room. I stopped by the bar for a quick shot of salt water, then went outside. As Paige started the contest festivities, the fishermen hanging out on the patio congregated near the open French doors to watch and listen. Grateful for their distraction, I straightened my skirt, smoothed my shirt, and went to Jaime.
“Hi, there.”
He looked up, his hazel eyes slightly unfocused. “Where’s Paige?”
“She had to take care of something inside so she asked me to bring you this.” I held out the iced tea. He studied it for a moment, as if trying to remember whether he was thirsty. When he didn’t move to take it, I rested it on the wall behind him.
“Is she coming back?” He peered over his shoulder.
“I’m not sure. She’s pretty busy.” I waited for him to turn back. He didn’t. “I’m Vanessa, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you,” he mumbled, without looking at me.
I stepped toward him until I was so close, I could see his chest lift with each breath. “The pleasure’s mine.”
For a split second, his chest stopped.
“It’s such a nice night,” I said quietly, hating each word more than the last. “Would you like to take a walk?”
He turned back. His eyes, slightly clearer, narrowed and searched my face. Guessing he needed a bit more encouragement, I leaned into him and sang a single note so softly, I knew no one but us could hear it. It was a variation of what Charlotte had taught me, and given how that had failed with the fisherman at Murph’s yesterday, I didn’t think it’d work. The most I hoped for was that it helped shift Jaime’s focus from Paige to me.
Which was why I was stunned when his eyes widened and locked on mine. And my body felt a surge of life so unexpected, I gasped and grabbed his shirt for support. Taking this as an invitation, he reached for my waist.
“Let’s walk,” I whispered.
He followed willingly. My head spun as we crossed the pier and headed down the beach, away from Betty’s. Part of me wanted to take the energy I’d just gotten and return to the restaurant immediately. But a bigger part wanted to keep going. Charlotte had said that attracting the affection of a guy who was interested in another girl was the best way to stay strong—at least, I assumed, until more was required. If that was true, and if Paige had done her part well enough, then a few more minutes with Jaime wouldn’t hurt. If anything, they should give me the strength I’d need to correct yesterday’s mistakes.
So I looked behind me only once more, to make sure we’d gone far enough. As I turned back, my gaze lingered on the line of cars in the parking lot, where Simon hid with Caleb.
This is for him, I told myself. It’s for all of us.
I lowered myself to the sand and smiled up at Jaime. He sat next to me. I mentioned I was cold, and his arm was around me instantly. I huddled against him, which led to snuggling. Soon we were lying next to and holding on to each other. I didn’t kiss him—I refused, no matter how much my body ached to—but he kissed me. As his lips moved across my face and down my neck, I closed my eyes. I listened to the water rush toward us and retreat. I gave in to the exhilaration and let my body have this moment, as if the physical me and emotional me were two separate, opposing forces struggling to come together for the good of the whole.
I was so consumed, I didn’t realize we weren’t alone until it was too late.
“Hey!” The voice was familiar, but also distant. Muffled. Like its source was buried beneath a thick blanket. “Hey!”
And then the moment was gone. Jaime was jerked to his feet before being thrown back down in the sand—several feet away. When he tried to stand, he was knocked over again. I sat up, head spinning. Between the darkness and my confusion, it took me several seconds to figure out what was happening.
When I did, I scrambled to my feet and lunged at Simon.
“Stop! He didn’t do anything!”
“Stay back, Vanessa!” he shouted, without turning around. “Let me handle this!”
“There’s nothing to handle!” I grabbed his arm and pulled when he moved to shove Jaime a third time. “I’m fine!”
Simon yanked his arm from my grip. “He won’t be by the time I’m done with him.”
Feeling more powerful than they had in weeks, my legs bolted. I flew around Simon and threw myself between him and Jaime.
“He didn’t do anything,” I insisted. “This is my fault.”
Still focused on the cowering figure behind me, Simon opened his mouth to protest. But then something distracted him … and his attention shifted to me.
“Vanessa?” He straightened. His arms relaxed. “Your eyes … you look …”
“Different?” I guessed.
He shook his head. “Beautiful.”
I didn’t say anything. Simon’s awe quickly turned to confusion.
“You’re okay?” he asked. “This guy wasn’t attacking you?”
“I’m fine. And, no. He wasn’t.”
He looked from me, to Jaime, still lying on the ground, and back to me. “But if you’re … if he wasn’t …” He raised his arms, let them drop to his sides. “What were you doing?”
I held up one hand, asking him to give me a second, and then turned and offered the same hand to Jaime. He took it, and I helped him stand.
“You should go back to the restaurant,” I said. “Paige will be happy to see you.”
He hesitated, and I thought he might not go. But he nodded a moment later and then shuffled away.
When I turned back, Simon was pacing. He’d put it together. Maybe not everything—like why—but enough to know what Jaime and I had really been doing when he’d assumed I was being attacked. I stood there, wanting to go to him, to stop him, and throw my arms around him, but I was too uncertain whether he wanted the same thing.
Finally, he said, “You were kissing him.”
“He was kissing me,” I said calmly.
“Does it matter?”
A few minutes ago, I thought it did. Now that I saw just how upset Simon was, I wasn’t sure.
“I needed him,” I said.
This stopped him. “You what?”
“Not necessarily him, specifically … but I needed to be with a guy. Physically.”
“And—what? You couldn’t wait long enough to make the huge trek to the parking lot?”
His voice was loud, accusing. It hurt so much, I had to look away.
“This is part of it, Simon.”
He stepped toward me. “Part of what?”
Now that my body was sufficiently refueled, the tears fell easily. I brushed my eyes as I faced him. “My life.”
His face relaxed but his shoulders remained tensed. I knew he was torn between his anger and wanting to comfort me.
“Haven’t you noticed how I’ve looked lately?” I asked. “Tired? Weak? Older?”
“Tired, yes. But a lot’s been going on. It’d be strange if you weren’t exhausted.”
“It’s not just that.” I searched his face, wished I could wipe away his pain. “I’m sick.”
He took another step toward me. “Sick … how?”
“My body’s failing. Because of what I am. It needs things other people’s don’t.”
“Like salt water. And swimming.”
“And what you just saw.”
He looked at me, waited, like he expected me to say I was kidding. When I didn’t, he clasped his hands on top of his head and turned away from me, toward the ocean.
“It doesn’t work with you.” My voice cracked and the tears fell faster. “Not in the same way. I wish it did … you can’t know how much I wish it did. But because you love me—”
“I can’t give you what you need? Do you know how that sounds? How it feels?”
I took a deep breath, released it. “Yes. I do.”
He released his hands and his head lowered. I walked over and stood next to him. The tide was rising, and the water stalled inches from our feet before rolling back.
“I love you, Simon,” I said, fixing my eyes on the dark, distant horizon. “Which is why you need to know that this will only get worse. It already has. I thought I had everything under control when my family and I first got here—I wouldn’t have pursued getting back together otherwise. Then when we did and I started feeling worse, I pretended I was fine. I thought that if I just drank more and swam farther, I would be. But now I know that’s not the case … I can’t ask you to be with me. It’s too hard. It’s not fair.”
For a long moment, he didn’t speak. Part of me hoped that this was enough, that I wouldn’t ever have to tell him what Charlotte had told me before she’d passed away. I hoped that one day I’d just disappear and he wouldn’t have to know, because to him, I’d already been gone a very long time.
But he kicked off one sneaker, and then the other. He took off his socks. He walked through the foamy runoff, hopped a breaker, and waded into the ocean. He stood there, watching the water, then turned around and reached out one hand.
I held my eyes to his as I walked toward him. I took his hand, and he pulled me close. We stood like that, our arms around each other, my cheek against his chest and his chin on top of my head, until the tide rose so high, we could no longer feel the sandy floor beneath our feet.
I knew then that it wasn’t enough.
Nothing would be.
CHAPTER 24
WHEN THE NEXT E-MAIL CLUE ARRIVED four days later, Simon and I were sitting in the coffee shop in town, hoping to catch Colin stopping by for his morning caffeine fix. I’d called and texted several times since our date at Murph’s, apologizing profusely and offering to make it up to him on a second date, but he never answered and my messages went unreturned. I’d considered getting his address through my parents, whom I thought might know where their realtor lived, but I couldn’t come up with a reason for wanting to visit him that wouldn’t invite questions. Plus, no one was entirely comfortable with cornering the killer on his home turf. The plan was for me to reel him in for another shot at a confession, this time with Simon, Caleb, and Paige nearby to intervene as needed, but giving him a home-field advantage didn’t make sense.
That had left public stalking … and waiting.
“Here we go,” Simon said, when his phone buzzed with a new text from Caleb. “Right on time.”
I leaned closer and we watched the picture load.
“She’s in the supermarket, wearing a black shirt, and not looking at the camera.” He sighed. “As helpful as always.”
“Wait,” I said, as he started to close the phone. “Can you zoom in? On her wrist?”
The photo blurred slightly as her arm grew bigger, but it was clear enough for me to see what I needed to. I sat back, vaguely aware of the blood leaving my face, the feeling abandoning my body.
“What?” Simon brought the camera closer. “What is it?”
The bell over the door rang as a customer walked in. My head snapped in that direction and I grabbed my empty coffee cup, as if a ceramic dish was all it’d take. When the customer was an older woman, I lowered the cup but held on to it, just in case.
“Her bracelet,” I said quietly.
“What about it?”
“It’s actually a necklace. See how it’s looped around a few times?”
“Yes,” he said. “And what are those things hanging from the chain?”
“Charms. Two birthstones and two initials.”
“One’s a Z,” he said, squinting, “but the other’s partially hidden behind her arm.”
He was right. But I didn’t have to see the whole thing to know what it was.
“It’s a P.” I paused, not believing I was going to say what I was about to say. “For Paige.”
Simon put it together instantly. “Why is she wearing Raina’s necklace as a bracelet?”
Because you can’t help who your mother is—who she was. Because you still feel some sort of connection to her, no matter the terrible things she’s done. Because, sometimes, it’s nice to pretend that nothing’s wrong and that your family’s like everyone else’s.
“I don’t know,” I said. “But we have more important things to worry about.”
“Are you absolutely sure it’s her? Maybe we should wait for other pictures before we—”
His phone buzzed. Her face was still hidden in the next photo, but the girl getting out of the SUV in the Chowder House parking lot was definitely my best friend.
He closed the phone and lowered his voice. “We’re going to the police. Even without solid evidence, we can at least put Colin on their radar. And they can protect Paige.”
I couldn’t argue. We’d just have to deal with whatever potentially uncomfortable, revealing questions our leads prompted the best we could.
We stood, delivered our dirty dishes to the service counter, and hurried to the door. The police station was only a few streets over, but we headed for the Subaru, which was closer than my Jeep. I’d just buckled up when my eyes caught the time on the dash.
“I can’t go,” I said, bringing one hand to my forehead. “I’m supposed to be home in three minutes. I promised my parents I’d have brunch with them.”
“Brunch?” Simon looked at me. “Really?”
“That was the only way they’d let me out of the house this morning to see you. They’ve already threatened leaving here for good, and all they need is one more freak-out to turn that threat into reality. And I can’t tell them what’s going on for the exact same reason.”
He reached over and kissed my cheek. “It’s fine. Go. I’ll have Caleb come with his laptop, and you can meet us when you’re done.”
We said good-bye and I got out. He waited until I was in my car and pulling away from the curb before making a U-turn and heading in the opposite direction.
As soon as he was out of sight, I parked again and called Paige. I hated to scare her, but she needed to know she was being targeted. Maybe fear would convince her to stay home with the doors locked until tomorrow—which, according to last summer, was the next scheduled attempt—had come and gone without incident. After three calls went to voice mail, I texted instead.
P, need to talk. Emergency. Call ASAP. –V
The message sent, I threw the Jeep in drive and punched the gas. I didn’t get far before having to hit the brake for a black sports wagon. Its driver was in no hurry, and I was debating whether to pass him on a double yellow line when the car stopped short for a pedestrian crossing the street. I slammed the brake to avoid running into him; as I did, I registered the rounded sticker in the car’s rear window. It was a college sticker, like the Dartmouth one Mom had proudly stuck on her SUV the day we’d found out I’d been accepted.
And it was for Pomona. The small school in California.
I barely breathed as my eyes traveled to the Audi logo beneath the back window. The two kayaks strapped to the roof. A tanned, bare arm resting on the driver’s side door.
Colin was right in front of me. Cruising through town like this was any ordinary Sunday. Like he wasn’t hours away from taking his fourth victim.
Keeping my eyes glued to his car, I grabbed my cell from the cup holder and dialed Simon. It went right to voice mail, probably because he was on the phone with Caleb. I left a quick message, then called my parents and explained that I’d lost track of time, apologized, and said I’d be home as soon as I could.
And then I gripped the steering wheel and followed the Audi.
It drove through town and turned onto a county road that paralleled the coast. The farther it went, the louder the voice in my head warning me to turn around grew, but I kept going, keeping a safe distance behind. I didn’t think about what I was doing or what would happen when the Audi finally stopped. All I thought was that this person wanted to take someone else from me. Someone good and pure and loved
by everyone she met. And I couldn’t let him out of my sight.
Fifteen minutes outside town, the Audi turned into a small dirt parking lot. I turned, too, without hesitating. I felt some small trepidation when ours were the only cars there, but then Colin saw me, and it didn’t matter. I took the digital recorder from my purse and slid it in my jacket pocket.
“Hi.” I forced a smile as I hopped out of the Jeep.
“Hey.” He stood next to his car, eyeing me warily. “What are you doing here?”
“I followed you from town.” Not exactly subtle, but we didn’t have time for that. “I wanted to see you.”
“Why?”
I stepped toward him. “Because I haven’t seen you since our date. And you never returned my calls or texts.”
His eyes narrowed. He turned away from me and started working the kayak cords. “You shouldn’t be here.”
My heart beat faster. Why shouldn’t I be? Did he have another target we didn’t know about?
“I’m sorry,” I said, as my stomach turned, “if I made you uncomfortable or did anything inappropriate the other day. I guess I have a hard time expressing my feelings … especially when they’re so strong.”
I placed one hand on his arm. His muscles flexed, then froze, beneath my fingers.
“But I was hoping we could start over,” I said. “Maybe give things another shot.”
He considered this. Finally, he said, “I do still owe you a kayaking lesson.”
The wind shifted then and I smelled it. Salt. I’d been so focused on him, I hadn’t paid attention to where we were.
The ocean. Talk about home-field advantage.
“I’m ready if you are,” I said.
His face softened slightly, but he still seemed skeptical and I wasn’t sure why. He’d certainly made out with me willingly enough in the restroom at Murph’s … so was it because we’d been caught? Was he worried that I knew the truth about him? But didn’t he want me to know the truth? Wasn’t that why he sent e-mails with images of future victims?
Or was it simply because he preferred to be the one calling the shots, and that hadn’t happened this time?
Dark Water: A Siren Novel Page 24