The Lifeguard

by Richie Tankersley Cusick

  Kelsey disentangled herself and couldn’t help laughing. “What are you doing here?”

  “I work here, remember?” He tipped his cap and steered her to a hot dog stand. “What’s your pleasure?”

  “For breakfast?”

  Skip wiggled his eyebrows. “Trust me—you won’t regret this.” He pushed his way to the counter, and Kelsey leaned back against the wall.

  “Hi.”

  She jumped, her cheek brushing against Justin’s, and felt his hand slide across her back, leaving warm tingles where he touched.

  “Hi, yourself.” Oh, Justin, I wish I could tell you what’s happening but I’m afraid and I don’t have any proof and you’ve been through so much already… “I’m having—uh—breakfast.”

  “So I see.” He looked slightly incredulous as Skip returned and handed her a hot dog. It promptly gushed a huge glob of mustard onto Justin’s bare feet, and he tried to rub it off into the sand. “Sorry I was in such a hurry this morning,” Justin said. “How was your picnic?”

  Skip looked up around a mouthful of bun. “Disastrous if Donna made it.” He waved his last bite of hot dog and started off. “Gotta get back. See you tonight, huh?”

  Justin took Kelsey’s hot dog and tossed it into a litter can. “Poison. Got any plans for today?”

  “Just walking.”

  “Good. You can walk me back to my station,” They waved as Skip’s jeep made a swerve at them and disappeared back down the beach.

  “Donna shouldn’t have said what she did this morning.” She looked up sideways, at his brown hair, the rich deep tan, the long, thick lashes…

  “Yes, she should’ve. I was going to ask you. She didn’t trap me.”

  “But I thought you guys are supposed to be working. Are you allowed to have dates?”

  “Technically? No. But when Skip happens to know who’s giving the party, he makes sure people like you and Donna get invited. Don’t worry. We’ll just tell everyone you’re part of the Beach Patrol.”

  “Sounds like a bad sitcom,” Kelsey laughed. She loved hearing Justin laugh, too—loved the easy way it came out, bringing new lights to his blue eyes. Hearing him laugh like that, she could almost believe that everything was all right…

  “By the way, Dad and your mom took off for the mainland.” Justin’s eyes scanned the ocean as they walked. “She said she forgot to tell you.” He put his hands on her shoulders and smiled down at her. “Well, this is where I get off. You coming to the beach later?”

  Kelsey answered evasively. “I don’t know. I may stop in the village for a while…do some shopping.”

  “I give free lessons,” Justin reminded her. There was teasing behind his innocent expression, and Kelsey punched him lightly on the chest.

  “In what?”

  “Why, swimming, of course!” Justin looked askance. “What were you thinking of?”

  Kelsey could still feel him—the gentle pressure of his hands upon her shoulders, his chin softly brushing her forehead—all the way up the beach she could still feel him, and it warmed her all over. She kept walking, thinking of his smile, his soft-spoken voice, his laugh, until she suddenly realized she had reached the end of the beach.

  For one disoriented moment Kelsey stood there. Off to her right lay the ocean, to her left a clutter of bars and shops. In the distance she could see the mainland, and straight ahead of her the ferry landing. Kelsey dropped her eyes to the boats docked just below where she was standing. She smiled, sniffing the air—the salt and fish and old, wet wood—and felt her smile freeze upon her lips;

  Isaac was coming out of a houseboat.

  He didn’t see her standing just above him, gazing down with a look of fear. He limped across the pier and gestured to another old man who seemed to be waiting for him, and together they climbed into an open boat, and putted away

  Without thinking, Kelsey went down the first flight of steps she came to, walking out onto a narrow wooden ramp that paralleled the larger pier up above. She went slowly, keeping her eyes on that boat pulling away, watching as it went around the curve of the beach and disappeared. Her heart was pounding.

  She was standing right beside Isaac’s houseboat.

  There didn’t seem to be anyone else around—not anyone or anything—save for the bad smell that hung in the air. A graveyard, Kelsey thought suddenly, a graveyard for stinking, forgotten, old, old things… Swallowing hard, she swung herself up onto Isaac’s deck, then ducked down again quickly, through the hatch, praying that nobody had stayed behind to wait for him.

  The place was a pigsty. Kelsey pressed her sleeve against her nose, holding her breath. Moldy food lay everywhere. There was a rumpled cot with a filthy sheet that looked like it had never been changed. Empty liquor bottles covered the greasy floor, the lingering odor of whiskey mingling with the stink of stale urine and sweat. You must be crazy, coming here…you must be out of your mind…suppose he comes back…suppose he saw you and right now he’s creeping up on deck…

  A sudden creaking made her scream—she put her hand to her mouth and backed up, feeling the boat groan beneath her feet. It wasn’t safe here—she had to get out. The floor tilted, and she whirled around to the old brass-bound chest to steady herself against it.

  The first thing she saw was the knife.

  Kelsey had never seen a knife that long or that ugly. Something thick had dried on the blade and had never been cleaned off, and the point looked dull and nearly blunted. Whoever felt the tip of this knife would die a slow, painful death…

  In mingled horror and fascination she leaned forward. Now she could see something else there, puddled beneath the knife—something dark…dark red…

  She reached out to touch it.

  Something stuck to her fingers and clung as she drew back in alarm—something that streamed and flowed and ran down her arm…

  Only it wasn’t blood.

  It was a scarf.

  A long red scarf that she had seen before. In a picture on the mantel in Eric’s cottage.

  Beth had been wearing it around her neck.

  “No…” Kelsey whispered, “Oh, no…”

  There was a scurrying in the corner, and she wheeled around, screaming again as a huge, mangy rat fixed her with shining eyes.

  Kelsey dropped the scarf and ran.

  Chapter 16

  WHAT AM I GOING to do? Kelsey slammed the cottage door and leaned breathlessly against it. Go to the sheriff? Tell him he can go right down and pick up his murderer? No, Donna was probably her best bet, only Donna was working and she wouldn’t see her till tonight. For a second, Kelsey thought of going over to the restaurant, then remembered she didn’t know the name of it or how to get there. Should she finally tell Justin what was going on? Neale? He’d be furious with her, she knew, but at least he already believed that Beth had been murdered. Skip? But he would only accuse her of playing another joke on him…

  Going to the mantel, Kelsey picked up the photograph, staring at Beth and the red scarf. She hadn’t made a mistake. She knew the scarf was Beth’s. She knew Isaac had killed her. But why?

  “You’ll just end up getting hurt…” She could call the sheriff. Leave an anonymous tip, then hang up before anyone could trace the call. She went into the kitchen and reached for the phone. It rang just as her hand closed around it, jolting her out of her skin.

  “Kelsey? Hello? Is anybody there?”

  Kelsey’s hands were shaking so badly that she could hardly hold the receiver. “Mom? Is that you? Oh, Mom, I’ve got to tell you—”

  “Listen, honey, I only have a second. Eric’s in the hospital. Kelsey, can you hear me? I said Eric is—”

  “I hear you,” Kelsey said numbly. “What happened?”

  “The doctors don’t think it’s anything serious—he collapsed, but he’s resting now.”

  “Collapsed—”

  “His heart, honey. They’re sure it’s from all the strain, but they want to keep him a couple days. Just to make sure. Will you t
ell the boys?”

  “They’re not here right now. Nobody’s here but me—”

  “—the shock, Kelsey. It’s just too much. But we’ll be fine, huh? Try to have some fun and don’t worry.”

  The click came, and Kelsey stood there, staring down at the phone. Tell the boys. Just like that. Your dad had a heart attack and I’ve found your sister’s murderer. Great Kelsey, just great.

  She forced herself back to the beach, surprised at how cloudy it was. She hunched her shoulders against the wind, and when she spotted the jeep coming towards her, she ran up and waved it down.

  “Where’s the fire?” Skip grinned.

  “Not exactly a fire,” she said anxiously. “Eric’s in the hospital.”

  “You’re kidding.” Skip’s mouth dropped open. “Is it bad?”

  “No, but they’re keeping him a few days.”

  “His heart again?”

  Kelsey nodded, meeting Skip’s grim expression with one of her own. “I’m on my way to find Justin now. I think Neale’s on East Beach—do you know how I can get ahold of him?”

  Skip made a dismissive gesture. “Not to worry. Justin’s over there, too, helping him with something—I’ll call them right now.”

  She smiled at him, relief flooding through her. “I didn’t want to have to…tell them…”

  “I know.” Skip’s eyes clouded over almost angrily. “It’s a damn shame. How much more can happen?”

  If you only knew, Kelsey thought—tell him—tell him now—make him call the sheriff and go to Isaac’s houseboat—“Skip—”

  “See you later, huh?” Skip squeezed her arm, leaving her with half-formed words on her lips as he sped away.

  Kelsey dragged herself back to Eric’s cottage and stretched out on the couch, staring again at the picture on the mantel. Beth’s smile was so sweet, so touching…so much like Justin’s—the same gentleness, the same shyness—why do the innocent ones always have to suffer…? She threw her arm across her eyes, trying to shut out the image of the deer hanging on Skip’s wall, trying to stay awake…to keep the voice away…

  “Don’t struggle…it’ll be easier if you don’t struggle…”

  And the roaring came again, like it always did, that growing surge of indistinct sound and a scream, muffled, distant…

  “Don’t struggle…”

  But she was struggling…great gasps of air from lungs bursting, and that split second, that terrifying instant of realization as strength gave out and water poured in, black and sickening and endless…

  “Don’t…” the voice fading as everything faded, as her very life faded…ended…

  “I’m trying to hold on, Dad—I’m trying—”

  She cried out, starting up off the couch, vaguely aware of the knocking which had called her back to consciousness.

  The room was dark and murky; twilight oozing past the windows. She inched toward the door, keeping flat against the wall, trying to peer out onto the porch without being seen. Was that a laugh she had heard just then? Visions of Isaac swept through her mind—the knife—the huge rat watching her as she tried to run—if Isaac was out there now…if he knew she was alone…

  The sound came again, and Kelsey saw the tree limb slapping at the window. Inching open the door, she frowned at the swaying trees, the heavy smell of rain.

  She was surprised at how late it was: half past six. Almost as an afterthought she grabbed her purple windbreaker on her way out; it might get cold later on. She wondered where everyone was, where the party was supposed to be. Noticing lights flickering farther up the beach, she headed toward them.

  Justin ran up to her before she even reached the party site.

  “Where were you? I was getting ready to call out the National Guard—” He was trying to joke, but he looked worried.

  Kelsey felt touched by his concern. “I fell asleep—”

  “But I looked in your room—”

  “No, Eric’s cottage. Sorry, guess I should have left a note or something.”

  Emotions struggled across his face, and he got them quickly under control. “It’s just that…with all that’s happened…”

  “I know. It’s okay.” She wasn’t prepared for his arms going around her, drawing her against him. She closed her eyes and slipped her arms around his waist. He was trembling.

  “If anything ever happened to you…” He left the sentence unfinished, and Kelsey leaned against him, his heartbeat beneath her cheek.

  “If you two can tear yourselves away from each other,” Skip came up, wiping sweat from his eyes, “there’s lots to do back there—”

  Justin fell into step beside him and swung Kelsey around, his arm still draped around her neck. “Any news about Dad?”

  Kelsey shook her head. “No news is good news.”

  “I guess,” Justin conceded, then sighed. “I don’t know about you, but I’m really not up to this tonight—”

  “What?” Skip’s mouth dropped open. “Now Justin, no one is ever too tired to party! It’ll cure all your troubles! And besides, you get paid time and a half.”

  “Is Donna here?” Kelsey was craning her neck, trying to locate her friend, but there were too many people on the beach.

  The party site had been set up by the second lifeguard station, a fair distance away from the lighthouse, but still close enough to see the scarred cliffs in between glimpses of the moon. The sky had really clouded up. There were no stars, and a restless breeze chopped at the waves.

  “We need to turn those floodlights on,” Justin peered inland, and Skip followed his gaze.

  “Okay, but I don’t think they’ll do much good.”

  “Well, the fire’ll help some, I guess.” Justin watched as Skip disappeared through the crowd, and several minutes later two tall light poles, practically hidden by trees, burst into feeble illumination. Justin studied them for several seconds, then turned as an invisible someone called his name. “I guess you’ll have to mingle without me for a while.” He smiled down at Kelsey, but his face still looked tired.

  “Don’t worry about me, I’m a great mingler.”

  “That’s what I will worry about,” Justin tossed back, and Kelsey set out to find Donna.

  The beach was beautiful by firelight. Kelsey stood back, entranced by the huge camp fire blazing up into the night, the sand glowing like fallen embers, the cliffs gleaming like mounded ash. Beyond the blare of music came the sounds of dancing and singing, the sizzle of wood and food cooking, and the whine of the wind.

  “Donna!” Kelsey raised her hand and maneuvered her way over to where Donna was pulling a can of soda from an ice tub. “There you are! I—” Kelsey felt her greeting die as she caught a glimpse of Donna’s face. It was red and puffy from crying, and even now she looked like she might cry again. “Donna—what’s—”

  “Oh, Skip and I had a fight. Nothing unusual—”

  “But I just saw him—he didn’t seem upset—”

  “He never does. I’m going to dance with every guy at this party. I’m never going to speak to him again.” She sounded hurt and angry, and Kelsey reached out for her.

  “Donna, I’m sorry about you and Skip—but I have to talk to you. Can you forget it for just five minutes? I have proof that Isaac killed Beth—”

  “You what?”

  They hurried past the crowd, past the lights, forming a tight little huddle among the trees and dunes.

  “Donna, listen to me. You know that picture on the mantel at Eric’s? The one of the family?” To each question, Donna nodded, and Kelsey rushed on. “The scarf Beth was wearing—Isaac has that scarf! Oh, Donna don’t you see—”

  “Where?” Donna broke in, her face stunned. “How do you know?”

  “Because I saw it. In his houseboat.”

  Donna’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head. “What!?”

  “Oh, Donna, I know I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help it! I had to!”

  “I have to sit down,” Donna said weakly. She stared up at
Kelsey as if her friend had gone mad.

  “I’m not crazy, I really did go—”

  “Oh, Lord—”

  “There was a knife there. This long, I swear to God. And Beth’s scarf right beside it.”

  “Beth’s…”

  “We’ve got to tell somebody. People have to know that Beth didn’t just have an accident. They have to know that there’s a murderer loose on the island—”

  “Well, what are you gonna do? Tell the sheriff?” Donna looked totally dumbfounded. Her can of soda turned over, draining into the sand.

  “I thought…I’d tell Neale.”

  “Neale! Why on earth—”

  “Donna, I told you before, Neale’s the only one who believes something bad happened to Beth. Maybe the sheriff will listen to him if he tells him about Isaac—”

  A voice that wasn’t Donna’s asked quietly, “Tells him what about Isaac?”

  They stared at each other, frozen. Neale and Justin and Skip were all standing beside the path, watching them, their faces blank with disbelief.

  “I can’t believe you two,” Skip mumbled. “You’re really something.”

  “How dare you spy on us!” Donna shouted, struggling for her dignity. Neale’s look suggested that he would dare anything he damn well pleased. “How rude!” she added lamely.

  For a second Kelsey thought Neale was actually going to laugh, which made it even worse.

  “Isaac did it,” she raised her chin defiantly. “He killed Beth. I know he did.”

  Justin looked stunned.

  Neale nodded, more to himself than to her. “He confessed, I suppose.”

  “Of course he didn’t confess!” Kelsey blurted out. “He says he didn’t do it but that he knows who did! But he’s lying!”

  “What proof?” Neale demanded.

  Kelsey’s voice dropped. “Beth’s scarf. It was lying on his trunk, beside a knife with bloodstains on it.”

  “A knife with…” Neale’s lips twitched in a humorless smile. “Of course, I see now. Solid concrete evidence.”

  Skip threw back his head and hooted with laughter. “Fish blood! You girls are just too much!”