Tidal (4 page)

“Yeah.” She smiled, trying to appear accepting, but really she was worried about him. “So, did Dad tell you that Gemma’s in a play now?”

“I don’t care about Gemma or what’s she doing,” Alex snapped, with an undercurrent of hatred so raw that Harper flinched.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Look, I should really get back to work.” He glanced over at her, looking at her for the first time, and then instantly looked away. “It was nice seeing you.”

“Yeah, you, too. And if you ever wanna hang out…” Harper said, but he was already walking away. “I’m right next door. You can call me anytime!” He never even looked back at her.

FOUR

Paramount

After their conversation on Tuesday night, Gemma had been avoiding Harper. It had been a day and a half, so Gemma knew she’d have to start speaking to Harper again soon, but she wanted just one more lecture-free morning.

Gemma purposely slept in late, waiting to venture out of her room until after Harper had left for work. Then she got up, did a few chores around the house, and planned to get ready so she could leave for play rehearsal before Harper got home from work.

Of course, she did manage to squeeze in a half hour of
Judge Judy
, which was her latest vice. While spending the past month moping around the house, Gemma had gotten addicted to daytime television. While she’d mostly kicked her habit,
Judge Judy
was the one show that remained.

After it ended, she took a shower and got dressed for the day, but she’d left the TV on. When she came downstairs, pulling her hair up in a loose ponytail, she saw that the regularly scheduled programming had been interrupted by a news bulletin, and her heart dropped.

She’d been coming down the stairs, taking them two at a time, but she slowed as she walked into the living room.

The handsome young heir to a multimillion-dollar fortune had gone missing without a trace, and every media outlet seemed to be covering it incessantly.

“Here’s the top story of today, Thursday, August fifth. Authorities have found what they believe may be Sawyer Thomas’s yacht off the coast of one of the Bahama Islands,” the news reporter was saying. “Again, this hasn’t been confirmed yet, but the footage you are seeing is live. The diving team is searching the yacht, but so far there is no word as to whether there are any bodies on board, but there doesn’t appear to be anyone alive.”

The screen showed a beautiful beach, white sand with clear blue water. A large boat had capsized just offshore. Helicopters were swarming overhead and several smaller boats were surrounding it as divers in black suits descended.

The crawl along the bottom was rehashing all the information about the case.
Sawyer Thomas, 25, has been missing since the 4th of July. The Thomas family is offering a $2 million reward for any information leading to his whereabouts.

As the divers continued searching the wreckage, a picture of Sawyer popped up in a box in the corner. It appeared to be fairly recent. He was smiling widely, the top few buttons of his white shirt were undone, and his blue eyes were dazzling, even in a picture.

That was when Gemma turned off the television. His face haunted her nightmares enough that she didn’t need to be reminded of it while she was awake.

Gemma hadn’t killed Sawyer—not with her own hands—but she felt responsible for his death just the same. He’d been kind to her, so she’d been trying to help him escape the sirens. But she shouldn’t have intervened. If she’d just left him alone, maybe he would still be alive.

Of course, Lexi was completely psychotic and had ripped out Sawyer’s heart without any real provocation, so there was a good chance that she would’ve killed him eventually. That didn’t change the fact that Gemma hadn’t saved him or taken him with her when she ran away. She knew he was in danger, and she didn’t do enough to help him.

Gemma wished the manhunt for Sawyer would hurry and turn up something, not only so she wouldn’t have to keep seeing his face everywhere, but so his family would have some closure.

She’d considered calling the tip line, but what could she tell them? That she’d seen a monster rip out his heart underneath the fireworks? She didn’t even know what had become of his body.

After Lexi had killed him, she’d kicked him into the bay. But since he hadn’t turned up on the beach or in a fisherman’s net, Gemma assumed they’d done something with him. Maybe they’d dragged him farther out to sea, maybe they fed him to sharks, maybe Lexi ate him. Gemma didn’t know, and honestly, she didn’t want to know.

The capsized yacht had probably been the work of the sirens, maybe to cover up the murder, or maybe it had just been an accident when they took the boat on a joyride. Lexi had been gone for a few days last week.

Gemma swallowed back the lump in her throat and pushed Sawyer from her mind. If she wanted to get out of here before Harper got home, she had to hurry, which meant that she didn’t have time to cry about Sawyer. Besides, she’d already cried over him plenty of times this summer, and it had done nothing to help him or herself.

The Paramount Theater was in the center of town, only a few blocks away from the Capri Public Library and Pearl’s Diner. It was a bit of a distance to walk, so she’d left early enough so that she’d have plenty of time to get there. Her car still wasn’t working, but Kirby would give her a ride after practice.

It was an old theater, built in the early 1900s. It’d been popular when it had first been built, but over time people had gradually lost interest. The Paramount closed and became run-down. Then about twenty years ago the town had started a revitalization project and began to fix it up.

Gemma’s mother had actually been part of the crew that restored the theater. Nathalie didn’t know anything really about building repair, and from what Gemma understood, Nathalie’s help had been limited to painting, cleaning, and fund-raising. But she’d worked very hard, and eventually the Paramount was returned to its former glory.

The marquee out front would light up at night. Right now it simply proclaimed
THE TAMING OF THE SHREW, AUGUST 27
in all capital letters. Opening night was just over three weeks away, and then they’d do four shows over the course of one weekend. It wasn’t Broadway, but it was something.

A poster on the front of the building was done in an old playbill style. They’d put all the actors’ names on it. Thea was listed right below Aiden Crawford. They should technically share the top billing, since they played the leads Katherine and Petruchio, respectively, but Aiden had the bonus of being the eldest son of Mayor Crawford, the most prominent man in Capri.

Thea had joined the play first, and Gemma had followed at her suggestion. Thea’d apparently always loved the theater, but Gemma had mostly auditioned to keep close to Thea. Not only so she could find a way to reverse the curse, but to keep an eye on the sirens. Besides, it was good for Gemma to do something to keep herself busy.

Gemma walked past the ticket booth and the main doors, and she went around the side of the building to the door that led to the backstage area. Since she’d left so early, she was one of the first ones there, but that usually seemed to be the case.

Tom Wagner, the director, was already there, and so was Daniel, but he’d probably already been there for hours. Daniel had been tasked with re-creating the Italian Renaissance. Gemma knew that he had his work cut out for him, and she’d seen him laboring backstage on the beginnings of elaborate sets since she’d been cast in the play a week ago.

When she came in, Tom was sitting on the stage, his legs dangling over the edge, with a script lying next to him. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, and the top several buttons of his shirt were undone. In an abstract way, Gemma was aware that he was attractive, and his soft British accent definitely helped support that idea.

“Bianca.” Tom smiled widely when he saw Gemma. He insisted on calling everyone by their character’s name, but that was fine by Gemma. “You’re so prompt. I wonder if your costars will catch on to that.”

“I don’t think punctuality is contagious,” Gemma said.

He laughed. “No, I don’t suppose it is.”

She hopped up on the stage next to him—carefully, since she was wearing a skirt and didn’t want to reveal too much. Out before her were rows and rows of velvet seats. The walls had been made to appear as old brick, like the walls of a castle. The ceiling above them had been painted a dark blue like the early night sky, complete with small lights poking through for starlight.

“Are you having any problems with your lines?” Tom asked.

“None so far,” Gemma said. “But I haven’t memorized them all yet.”

“For shame,” he told her with a smirk. “By now I would’ve thought you’d memorized all the words in the play, not just yours.”

A clunking sound came from behind them, and Gemma looked back over her shoulder to see Daniel picking up a tool off the stage. She waved at him, but he only nodded and smiled, his hands full of tools and wood.

Within a few minutes the rest of the actors, along with the assistant director, began filtering in. Kirby was the next to arrive. He smiled at her, but he was careful to keep his distance.

Gemma told him that she didn’t think they should display any kind of public affection because she didn’t want the other actors to talk or Tom to get angry with them for not focusing enough. That was part of it, but it wasn’t the whole truth.

After what had happened with Sawyer, she didn’t want the sirens to know about any boys she was dating. She trusted Thea, but if Lexi found out about Kirby, she’d probably do something to him just to mess with her.

Gemma didn’t think she’d hurt him, not since Lexi, Penn, and Thea had all promised not to hurt anyone in Capri. But she knew that Lexi loved to play games, and Kirby didn’t need to deal with that.

Thea arrived a few minutes late, but the very last person to arrive was Aiden Crawford. He played the role of Petruchio, the boisterous gentleman intent on taming the shrew, Katherine, for his wife. He was a good match for the character, since he was confident bordering on cocky. He was foxy enough that most people seemed to overlook his arrogance.

Once everyone arrived, Tom got rehearsal under way. Gemma rehearsed a few scenes with Kirby, who played Lucentio, Bianca’s most valiant suitor. But when they got to a scene that was apparently a bit too complicated for Aiden to follow, Tom excused Gemma and Thea from the stage so he could focus on helping Aiden.

They sat in the middle of the theater, on the plush red velvet seats. Theoretically, they were supposed to be running lines together, but they were really just watching the boys scramble onstage as Aiden, Kirby, and another actor continued to botch their lines.

“This is the third time I’ve done
The Taming of the Shrew
,” Thea said. “But I’m usually Bianca. Penn was Katherine once, but she didn’t enjoy it that much. She prefers situations where she’s revered, not tamed.”

“That makes sense,” Gemma said. “Have you been in a lot of plays, then?”

“Hundreds. Probably thousands.” She leaned back farther in her seat. “I’m showing my age now, but television and radio, these are such new concepts. In the several millennia before that, the only way we had to entertain ourselves was with plays and stories.

“I’ve done opera before, but that’s a bit tricky.” Thea motioned to her throat. “The whole siren-song thing can turn an audience into a frenzied, obsessed mob.”

“That doesn’t sound all that pleasant.”

“No, it’s really not,” Thea said. “I’m just glad they’re not doing a musical. I so needed something to get me out of the house, but I won’t sing in front of crowds anymore.”

Tom appeared agitated by something Kirby had said and yelled at him. Not berating him, exactly, but it seemed a bit more harsh than Gemma would’ve thought the situation required.

“He’s really taking this seriously,” Thea said as they watched Tom give very forceful stage direction. “That’s weird for such a small-town production.”

“This is kind of a big deal,” Gemma said. “He’s, like, a real director. Not Broadway, but he’s done some bigger productions. He’s not from here.”

“I suppose the British accent gave that part away,” Thea said. “But how is this a big deal? Is this town super into Shakespeare or something?”

“This play is part of Capri’s big At Summer’s End Festival,” Gemma explained. “The activities kick off on August twenty-seventh and go all week until Labor Day. There’s a carnival, a parade, a cook-off, and a Miss Capri contest.”

“Weird.” Thea wrinkled her nose. “You seem to have an awful lot of festivals here.”

“It’s because it’s summer and we’re a tourist town. We have to milk it for all it’s worth, and then when the tourists go home, the town closes up. The festivals stop.”

“You cannot tell Lexi that,” Thea said. “She would freak out.”

Gemma chewed her lip, and then turned to Thea. “How much longer do you think you’re going to stay here?”

“It’s hard to say.” Thea lowered her eyes.

“You’re getting restless, all of you are,” Gemma said. She paused, but Thea didn’t bother to contradict her. “You haven’t found out anything supernatural or helpful about Alex or Daniel. Have you?”

“I never really thought that Alex loving you was all that supernatural,” Thea said, and just saying it like that opened the still-fresh wound in Gemma’s heart. She tried to keep her expression neutral as Thea went on. “My theory is that Alex had already fallen in love with you before you became a siren. That’s how he got around the curse.”

“Did you tell Penn that?” Gemma asked.

“No,” Thea said. “I thought the curse needed some reevaluating, that maybe we’d been denying things that were true. I just wanted to talk Penn into staying here so we could figure things out.”

“And what have you found?” Gemma asked, but she thought she already knew the answer. If they’d had any major breakthroughs, any life-changing pieces of information, Thea wouldn’t be sitting in the theater preparing for a play.

“Nothing.” Thea’s husky voice sounded soft and sad. “I don’t know where else to look. And Penn’s lost interest.” She stopped, correcting herself. “Well, she’s lost interest in Alex, anyway.”