Dark Water: A Siren Novel (25 page)

I turned the package over. The brown paper offered no clues. “He asked for me specifically?”

“If you’re Vanessa Sands, then, yes.”

“Do you know who he was?”

“No idea.”

Wary of overwhelming the elderly messenger with questions, I lowered the package and returned his smile. “What did he look like?”

“Not sure. My back was to him when he thrust the package at me, and by the time I turned, he was gone.”

I thanked the man and showed him and his friend to the bar. They’d been the only patrons still waiting to be seated, so I took advantage of the lull to check on Betty and Oliver, who were still puzzled but fine; Louis, who was frantic in the kitchen but elated to have so much to do; and Simon, who’d already texted me twice.

We’re busy but good
, I typed back.
Everything’s under control. Enjoy dinner, I’ll call you later. xo

Back in the dining room, Paige stood before a microphone belonging to the local rock band she’d hired. She welcomed everyone to the first ever Betty’s Surprise o’ the Seas event, thanked them for their contest contributions, and began introducing the entries. There were no monster fish like the kind Natalie had described, but there were still some unusually
heavy catches; a few boasted unique characteristics, like misshapen fins or odd coloring. Paige spoke naturally, easily, and played off the fishermen when they called out questions or comments from their seats. I didn’t want to interrupt her so I waited until she spotted me by the bins of fish, before holding up our last entry.

She motioned for me to join her. I shook my head.

“Have you all met Vanessa?” Paige practically sang into the microphone. “Our delightful hostess?”

The fishermen clapped and cheered. My face turning cherry red, I forced a smile and waved.

“What do you have there?” Paige asked.

Glancing over my shoulder, like the front door would come to me, I tried—and failed—to think of a way to get out of this.

“A late contest entry,” I finally said.

She cupped one hand to her ear. “What’s that?”

I repeated myself, louder.

“Fantastic! Bring it on up!”

You owe me
, I thought.

If Paige heard, she didn’t let on. Her expression remained unchanged as I walked toward the small stage.

“There she is! Let’s give our lovely hostess another round of applause!”

I gave her the package, smiled, and waved again, and darted to the back of the room. My skin burned with the heat of the intense gazes that followed me.

“Let’s see what we have here.…” Paige handed the
microphone to the male lead singer, who gripped it tightly with both hands, seemingly terrified of dropping it and disappointing the mesmerizing girl before him. Her smile grew as she undid the tape and gently tore open the paper. She leaned toward the microphone. “It looks like we might need a bigger stage—there’s a comedian in our midst!”

She held the stuffed animal, a killer whale, over her head for all to see. I thought it was more strange than funny, but the room swelled with laughter as the fishermen cracked up.

“Please don’t tell me this is a representation of the real deal,” Paige continued. “Our new front porch is pretty, but it won’t hold a ten-thousand-pound beached orca.”

This prompted a fresh wave of laughter. Paige joined in, and the effects of her voice made the fishermen only happier. The ladies in the audience appeared to be less pleased, but Paige didn’t seem to notice.

Or maybe she did. A second later, her smile froze, then faded.

But she no longer looked out at the crowd; she looked down at the stuffed animal. She turned it over, brought it closer. As it moved beneath the portable stage lights, something glinted around its neck. The flash was like the spark a match gives off when lit, only it shone silver instead of gold.

Raina
.

As Paige dropped the stuffed animal and hurried offstage, I heard her voice … but her mouth didn’t move.

C
HAPTER 19
 

“T
HANK GOODNESS.”

I stood in the kitchen doorway, car keys in hand. Mom flung herself toward me, one hand over her chest.

“It’s after midnight,” she added.

“I called three times,” I said, “to tell you I was going to be late, to tell you I was going to be even later, and to let you know when I was finally leaving the restaurant.”

She threw her arms around me and squeezed. “You’re a good daughter. But it’s been forty-five minutes since your last call.”

As I hugged Mom, I looked into the living room. Dad stood between the couch and coffee table, gripping a wineglass so tightly, I could see his knuckles turn white from the next room.

“Sorry.” I pulled away from Mom so she couldn’t hear my heart race inside my chest as I lied. “Paige’s car wouldn’t start so I gave her a ride home.”

Mom sighed. Dad nodded. I thought of the truth, which
was that I’d been so paranoid each time a pair of headlights appeared behind me, I took eight different detours to throw off potential pursuers. I lost them all easily, which meant they probably weren’t following me in the first place, but the fifteen-minute drive from Betty’s still ended up taking three times as long.

“But I’m here.” I forced brightness into my voice. “And exhausted. I think I’ll take a quick swim and go to bed.”

I kissed Mom’s cheek and headed for Dad to do the same. When I reached him, he put one hand on my arm. The gesture was gentle yet firm at the same time.

“We’d like to talk with you for a moment,” he said.

“Can it wait until morning?” I asked, because he sounded serious and I didn’t know how much more drama I could take tonight. Plus, I’d told Simon I’d call him the second I got home, and just as my parents were worried, I knew he was, too.

“I’m afraid it can’t.” Dad motioned to the armchair on the other side of the coffee table. “Please. Sit.”

I glanced at Mom, who reached for her wineglass as she joined Dad on the couch.

“Are we celebrating something?” I asked, sinking into the chair. My parents enjoyed a glass of wine with dinner, but that meal had ended hours earlier. They usually switched to tea or decaf coffee later in the night.

“In a way,” Mom said.

“You don’t sound happy,” I said.

“We got an offer.” Dad put down his glass, leaned forward,
and clasped his hands between his knees. “On the lake house.”

The mixed signals sent by their somber expressions and beverage choice now made sense. My heart lifted and sank at once.

“That’s good news, right?” I asked. “I mean, it’s sad, too, since it won’t be ours anymore … but at least it’s one less thing to worry about.”

“It is good news.” Mom rubbed Dad’s back. “And it means our business here is done.”

I was confused again. “What do you mean?”

“With the lake house sold, we don’t need to be here anymore.” Dad offered this like it was a real explanation.

“Here?” I asked. “As in this house? Or Winter Harbor?”

“Both,” Mom said.

“I’m sorry.” I shook my head. “I’m not following. We just bought this place. Mom, you just finished decorating. If we were only hanging around until the lake house sold, why go through all that trouble?”

I was trying to stay calm, logical. It was that or get back in the Jeep, drive to Simon’s, and handcuff my wrist to his.

Instead of answering, Mom lifted the wine bottle on the coffee table. As she did, I noticed the newspaper that had been serving as a coaster. The headline screamed from the front page.

ERICA ANDERSON, 28, FOUND DEAD BY WH CINEMA. VISITORS AND RESIDENTS PANIC, POLICE SCRAMBLE FOR CLUES
.

“You want to leave?” I asked. “Because of this?”

“Can you think of a better reason?” Dad asked quietly.

I could think of different reasons—like there being male victims instead of female—but not better.

“We wanted to wait a little while after the first girl was found,” Dad continued, his voice wavering, “but after this, we can’t wait anymore.”

“Vanessa.” Mom leaned toward me. “We thought all this was behind us.”

“But it’s not si—” I stopped myself. “It’s not like last summer.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Mom said. “It shouldn’t be happening. And had there been the slightest indication it would be, we never would’ve come back.”

“We simply can’t put you in harm’s way,” Dad added.

“I’m not in harm’s way. I’m fine. I’m better than that—I’m great.” I reached for the lamp next to my chair, turned it on. “Look. Don’t I look great? Healthy?”

“You look wonderful,” Mom conceded, “but—”

“That’s because we’re here. It’s because I get to swim in the ocean and breathe salty air whenever I want. This is where I’m supposed to be, where I
need
to be. Going back to Boston would be more dangerous than staying.”

“We don’t have to go back to Boston.” Dad looked at Mom, who nodded. “We thought we could try California or Oregon, or maybe even Hawaii. We can still spend the rest of the summer by the ocean—just the Pacific instead of the Atlantic.”

My eyes welled. “But what about Paige?”

“She’s your best friend,” Mom said. “She’ll understand. She can even come with us if she wants.”

“She can’t leave the restaurant.” I took a deep breath, blinked back tears. “And what about Charlotte?”

“She didn’t plan to stay much longer anyway,” Dad said. “You know that.”

I looked down. Tears fell from my eyes and landed in my lap. I barely noticed.

“As for Simon,” Mom said softly, guessing—correctly—what I was really thinking and too afraid to say, “he’ll also understand.”

“Can he come with us, too?” I asked.

Mom hesitated. “I don’t know if that’d be such a good idea. And you two were going to have to say good-bye eventually. Maybe it’ll be easier this way.”

It wouldn’t be. Saying good-bye to Simon, even for a day, would never be anything but painful.

But I couldn’t explain this to my parents. Even if I found the words, I knew they wouldn’t understand. And though they’d feel sorry for me and bad about the situation, that wouldn’t be enough to convince them to stay.

There was only one thing that might work.

“Justine,” I whispered.

Dad sat back. Mom gasped lightly.

I pictured my sister, imagined her infectious grin and her blue eyes glittering in excitement. I could almost see her hiding in the next room, talking into a small microphone that fed to an
invisible speaker in my ear. I’d feel guilty for what I was about to say if it wasn’t partially true—and if I wasn’t one hundred percent sure that Justine would’ve encouraged me every step of the way.

“I miss her,” I said.

Mom jumped up, hurried around the table, and perched on my armrest. “Of course you do. We all do.”

“And I guess that, I don’t know … being here makes me feel closer to her. Maybe because it was the last place we were together? It doesn’t make sense, but—”

“Yes, it does.” Mom put one arm around my shoulders, kissed the top of my head.

I took a deep breath. “That’s why it would be really hard to leave. I can’t imagine spending the summer somewhere I’ve never been with Justine, especially when we’ve only ever spent summers here. It was one thing to move out of the lake house and into this one, but leaving Winter Harbor completely? That’d just feel … wrong, somehow.”

Mom pulled me close until my head rested against her chest. My eyes still watered so I couldn’t make out Dad’s expression as he and Mom shared a silent exchange, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if he was on the verge of tears, too.

A moment later, Mom sighed and said, “Well, we don’t have to start packing tonight. Why don’t you get some rest and we’ll talk more in the morning?”

I sniffed, nodded. She gave me one more hug then stood up and rejoined Dad on the couch. I dried my eyes with the sleeve
of my denim jacket, said good night, and started across the room.

“Oh, and sweetie?” Mom called out, just as I entered the hallway.

I stopped. Turned.

“We’ll need you to quit your job at Betty’s.”

“But—”

“That one’s not up for discussion. We can’t have you driving around alone, at all hours of the night. Your father and I will cover your expenses.” She shifted in her seat and blew me a kiss over the top of the couch. “Good night!”

I opened my mouth to protest again, but then closed it. Compared to leaving town, this was a fair request. And I didn’t want to push my luck.

Back in my room, I grabbed two bottles of salt water from the fridge in the bathroom and drank as I called Simon. He answered halfway through the first ring.

“Do you want to go out tomorrow?” I asked, before he could ask where I’d been, if I was okay.

He paused. “Out?”

“On a hike or something? We could pack a picnic.”

“Don’t you have to work?”

I sat on my bed, shrugged off my jacket. “I’m taking the day off. Can you? From the marina?”

“Probably … I’d just need to clear it with Monty and Caleb in the morning.”

He sounded pleased but confused. I kept talking to help the former feeling override the latter.

“I know I saw you a few hours ago, but it still feels like too long. And all I want is to spend the day together. Don’t you think that’d be nice?”