Dark Water: A Siren Novel (30 page)

“I’ll sit at the bar.”

Still in the Jeep, I gasped and dropped the lip gloss and compact I’d been using. “Simon. What are you doing?”

He stood next to the driver’s side door, his hands in his jeans pockets and his forehead wrinkled with worry.

“He’ll never know I’m there,” he said.

Heart still racing, I reached through the open window and gently tugged on the front of his T-shirt so he stepped closer. “But I’ll know.”

“Vanessa,” he said quietly. “I’m not sure about this.”

“We discussed our options,” I reminded him. “Over and over again. And we all agreed this was the best one.”

“But why won’t you let me come with you? I’ll stay out of sight and only intervene if necessary.”

I hesitated, debating my response. I’d already tried reassuring him with the fact that we’d be in a public place, surrounded by people; that no matter what, we wouldn’t go anywhere else; that I’d abort the mission at the first sign of trouble; and that I had him, Caleb, and the police on speed dial. That had been enough—until now.

Finally, trusting that it was the only thing that might work, I went with the truth.

“I don’t know what it’ll take.”

“What do you mean? You said you’d use your—” He stopped himself, looked around to make sure no one was listening, and tried again. “You said you’d be so convincing, he’d have no choice but to confess.”

“And I will. I just don’t know what I’ll have to do to be that convincing.”

His face fell.

“There’s a line,” I added, my face flushing. “Obviously. But … there will probably be flirting. Some minor PDA. Do you really want to watch? Especially if it might make you lose focus of the ultimate goal?”

“What if I don’t lose focus?”

“Is that possible?”

It wasn’t. We both knew this, so he didn’t bother answering.

“It’s July seventeenth,” I reminded him softly.

He looked down, nodded. “Can you please promise me one thing?”

“Of course,” I said, thinking this request would be related to the aforementioned PDA.

“Don’t be too brave.” He raised his eyes to mine. “Okay?”

The memory of Charlotte’s voice filled my head. I pushed it aside.

“Okay,” I said. “See you soon.”

He lingered for another few seconds before walking away.
I was relieved when he didn’t try to kiss me first. I wouldn’t want—or be able—to resist, and if Colin somehow saw the exchange, our plan would be over before it even started. Apparently, Simon agreed.

I waited until the Subaru drove past and turned on to Main Street, then checked my appearance once more in the rearview mirror. Satisfied, I hopped out of the Jeep and hurried to the restaurant. Colin was already there, at a table in the back room. Spotting me, he stood and waved.

You can do this
, I told myself as I made my way through the bar crowd.
He’s just another guy
.

My body wasn’t buying it. The closer I got to the back room, the harder my legs trembled. When I reached the table, I dropped into a chair and drank the glass of water that had already been served before saying hello.

“Hey,” Colin said, giving me his glass next. “Let’s get some refills.”

He motioned to the waitress, who left us a pitcher.

“You feeling all right?” he asked.

“Absolutely.” I resisted taking the pitcher in both hands and forced a smile. “How are you?”

“Great.” He grinned. “I have been ever since you called.”

I tried to casually search for deeper meaning behind his words and expression. The one concern that Simon, Caleb, Paige, and I had all shared was that Colin would think my asking him out meant we were onto him and would be instantly on alert. And even though he seemed to be asking for the
attention, we weren’t sure what he planned to do once he had it. I was encouraged by how quickly he’d responded to me that morning on the beach, when he saw me emerge from the ocean after a long swim and I’d held on to him for support … but I was still wary.

If Colin was harboring sinister thoughts, however, he didn’t show it. He seemed happy. Excited. Maybe a little nervous, as suggested by the pink around his shirt collar and the fact that he couldn’t pick up a utensil without dropping it to the floor, but even that seemed innocent enough.

My own nerves easing slightly, I started with small talk. In no time, we’d addressed the weather, movies, and favorites, including color, food, and holiday. I asked most of the questions, which he answered easily.

After we’d ordered and received our food, I decided to steer the conversation toward more personal, serious topics. Before beginning, I scooted my chair closer to his until we sat so close, our arms brushed together.

“Do you mind?” I asked, when he looked pleased yet surprised. “It’s pretty loud in here and I don’t want to miss a single word.”

The pink on his neck spread to his cheeks. “I don’t mind.”

“Good.” I smiled and let my knee rest against his. “So remind me how long you’ve lived in Winter Harbor?”

He picked up his fork—and dropped it again. As he bent down to retrieve it, I reached into my purse, slung across the
back of my chair, found the digital voice recorder in the small pocket, and turned it on.

“About two months,” he said, sitting back up.

“That’s it?”

“And I won’t be staying much longer, either.” His smile faltered as he caught my eye. “Unfortunately.”

A small ball of energy warmed my stomach. I wanted to look away but held my gaze steady. “Why not?”

“College.”

My pulse quickened. “Where do you go?”

“Pomona. It’s a small school in California.”

“That’s a long way from here.”

He nodded, once again looking disappointed. I pressed on before I lost him to the feeling.

“So does your mom live here? And you’re spending the summer with her?”

“Yes. My parents split two years ago, and she moved to Winter Harbor a few months later—right in time for winter in summer.” He paused. “Were you around for that?”

I’d just taken a bite of salad and focused on chewing and swallowing. “Yes,” I said.

“Was it insane? It sounded totally insane. I mean, the storms and the bodies and the ice? What
was
that? My mom was so freaked out, she wanted to bail. Too bad she couldn’t afford to move somewhere else. She’d just spent her savings on a house and didn’t have the money—and no one was going to buy it while all that was going on.”

He was talking fast, growing animated. Was this how all murderers spoke about their psychopathic passions?

“It was pretty crazy.” I watched him out of the corner of my eye as I picked at my food. “And this summer’s not off to such a great start.”

“You mean with the girls?” He shook his head, picked up his burger. “I know. It’s awful. I forbid my mom from going out by herself at night. That’s why I brought that stuff to your family’s house a few weeks ago, when you and your friends were hanging out.”

He chewed, wiped ketchup off his chin, slurped his soda. Once again, if my question threw him off, he was very good at hiding it.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked.

My breath caught. His voice sounded different. Quieter, but there was something else, too. Was it more nervousness? A touch of fear?

I forced the puzzlement aside and smiled. “Of course.”

“Even if it’s completely crazy? And might make you think
I’m
completely crazy? So much so that you write me off and we end what could’ve been a blissful, perfect relationship right here and now?”

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.