Her mind was on a backward track. On a loop replaying her life with Mitch in the beginning.
Had she ever loved him like she loved Jil?
She was young. Twenty-six, maybe. Not even? She’d met him at a cottage in Muskoka during a teacher training outdoor ed seminar. More like a weeklong cottage party.
Hotdog and marshmallow roasts. Campfire songs.
Mitch played the guitar, she sang—loud, ridiculous camp songs left over from her childhood at sleepaway camps. Then, as the night wore on, and the fire went from a roaring blaze to a dull glow of hot embers, he handed her the guitar and she played something soft—she couldn’t remember what.
She’d never gotten used to playing a string instrument that way, slung across her knees, strumming with her fingers instead of a bow, but she made do. He watched her pick out chords, translating them from the vertical position of a cello to the horizontal position the guitar needed.
They’d stayed up late, trading stories, histories. He was a fascinating person, lively and smart. She’d fallen in love with him so quickly.
Thought she’d fallen in love with him.
And now she was forced to ask herself—had she ever been in love with him?
The water reached the bottom of the silver circle and she shut it off. She slipped into the hot liquid embrace, feeling her muscles unclench almost immediately. But her mind didn’t. It wouldn’t stop churning.
A year ago, she would have said yes. Yes, of course she’d loved him.
But the way Jil looked at her—dark eyes probing every inch of her face, her soul. The way they slipped into conversation, barely a thread dropped, speaking with nothing more than a gesture, a look. The deep understanding they had—like they would always be on the other’s side, no questions asked. The way they checked in, listened, acted without being asked—she’d never felt that with Mitch.
The way Jil touched her, barely touched her, and she came with such fierceness, so completely—her whole body trembling and releasing. Never, with Mitch, had she felt like that, collapsed like that. Fallen asleep, entwined, never wanting to be let go.
Had she?
She couldn’t remember.
But that didn’t mean she didn’t love him, did it?
It had just been different, right?
The water didn’t answer, but she knew the answer. And she held her breath and slipped under the surface, trying to drown out the thoughts she’d never before let herself think.
Chapter Seventeen
“I’d like your permission to do a stakeout,” Jil said.
Rebecca made a face. “A stakeout? Here?”
She nodded.
“What for? What have you found out?”
Rebecca closed the door to her office and Jil took a seat.
“A few interesting things. But I’d rather not say yet until I know anything for certain. In my experience, the less everyone knows, the better. And by everyone, I mean anyone but me.”
Rebecca switched on the coffeemaker and popped a pack into the machine.
“You want a coffee?”
“No thanks. I’ve rejected single-use plastic.”
Rebecca looked at her. “I have instant. Would you like that?”
“I’ll have iced tea if you have that.”
Rebecca smiled. “We always have that.” She opened the fridge and leaned down to grab the jug. Then she leapt back, screaming.
“What?” Jil jumped up.
Rebecca backed away from the fridge.
“It’s…it’s…”
Jil looked down. “An eyeball.”
“Look in the bottom shelf. God, oh gross.”
Jil pulled out a Tupperware container that contained eyeballs floating in a gelatinous substance. She almost lost her lunch.
“Who the hell would put that in there?”
“I don’t know, but that’s disgusting. Jesus.”
Jil peered closer. “They’re too small to be human. Human eyeballs are actually really big, once they’re dislodged from the skull.”
Rebecca stared at her. “Thank you very much, Doctor. Can you please get the hell rid of that while I find out what sicko has put that in the staff food fridge?”
She picked up her radio and stormed out while Jil shrugged and helped herself to some iced tea.
A few moments later, the doorknob turned and Leonard came in, munching a hot dog.
“Hey. How’s it going?”
Jil smiled. “Fine. Just waiting on Rebecca.”
“You might be waiting a while. She’s all up in arms. Eyeballs or something?”
“See for yourself,” Jil said.
Leonard opened the fridge door and winced. “That’s gross. They’re fish eyes.” He shut the door and pitched the rest of his hotdog in the garbage.
“Hey, I’m heading out to see how the repairs are going on the shipwreck observatory. You want to come along? See what the repair costs actually look like in real time?”
Jil shrugged. “Sure.” She had nothing else to do while Rebecca chased down the fish-eye suspect.
“This shipwreck was hauled from the shore through the lagoon to the back of the sea aquarium about ten years ago. It’s been used as a tourist feature. Who doesn’t love a half-sunk ship where you can go below deck? It’s got an oversized window that we installed especially for that purpose. Unfortunately, it might be more to repair than it’s worth.”
“That’s too bad.”
“It is. It’s my favorite underwater observatory.”
Leonard swung himself into the hole and began descending the ladder into the half-sunk boat. Once again, Jil marveled at his agility with his prosthetic device. It seemed like a natural extension of his leg. No limp, no hesitation.
“This is as close as I get to predators in the sea,” he quipped. “Triple-paned glass, which is a good thing because water pressure is a pretty amazing thing.”
Jil followed him down.
“So how long have you been a tax accountant?”
Jil hesitated, her mind racing for a way to avoid being in a numbers conversation with the numbers guy. “It’s a second career for me,” she hedged. “Not glamorous, but it pays the bills.”
“I could never do it myself,” Leonard said. “Too much baggage.”
Jil laughed. “I know what you mean. Say the word ‘taxes’ and everybody runs for the hills. Hey, tell me what I’m seeing here.”
Anything to change the subject before he asked her to recite the tax code or something. She looked out into the murky water as a shadow passed.
“This is our friend Michelangelo.”
Jil took a step back as a giant fish glided out of the darkness and past the porthole.
“Holy shit.”
“No kidding. I wouldn’t want to run into him underwater. That’s a four-hundred-pound grouper right there.”
“Do they eat people?”
Leonard grinned. “If provoked.”
“Wow.”
“Also down here are nurse sharks and stingrays. We’re about twenty feet down at the lowest point. Not deep enough to pop your eardrums, but far enough that you wouldn’t love most of what you’re sharing the water with.”
Vibrations from the aft section of the boat made her turn around.
“There’s a crew back there reinforcing the hull. It’s been leaking,” Leonard said. “Actually, we’d probably better head up. I wouldn’t want to be down here if it sprung a leak. The thing’s so old it’d probably fill in ten seconds and sink the rest of the way.
Jil followed back up the ladder, and they saw Rebecca striding down to the observation ship.
“That’s my cue,” Leonard said and gave Jil a small salute as he hightailed it in the opposite direction.
“Nobody’s copping to it,” said Rebecca as she caught up to Jil.
“Do you blame them? You’re a bit fierce right now.”
Rebecca gave her a withering look. “I think I’ve earned my stripes.”
“Possib
ly, but in my experience, listening works better than bludgeoning.”
Rebecca took a deep breath. “Maybe. Anyway, I wanted to tell you that you’re fine to hold your little stakeout if you still want to.”
Jil grinned. “Yes. I do. Thanks.”
“I’ll leave you my pass card when I go home tonight so you can move about. I don’t know what you expect to find, but you can brief me in the morning. I’m going home right at closing tonight. I have a headache and a thousand emails to answer.”
* * *
At five minutes to five, Jil ducked into the locker room and made her way over to the storage cage that held the equipment. A wall of lifejackets along one side dripped a steady stream on to the floor. Floatation devices of all sorts lay stacked on a floor-to-ceiling plastic shelf, and the corner was stacked with mats. The floor was also padded, she noticed—hard rubber mats that would make it more difficult to hear people coming in and out.
She didn’t know what she expected to find either, but she’d noticed over her career that the facility of the daytime and the facility of nighttime were often two completely different animals. Anyone who needed time to sabotage, steal, cover something up, or do anything else illegal or immoral would need the cover of darkness and some privacy to do it.
With the way things were going, it seemed obvious that someone on the inside of this place was intent on making things miserable for everyone else. And she had another motive for wanting to stay tonight. She wanted to eliminate Rebecca as a suspect. If she was at home, safely, and things were still going down, then Jil would know Rebecca had nothing to do with sabotaging her own sea aquarium. Something she’d seen more than once.
And usually for financial reasons.
Jil made a dry pallet for herself in the corner, inside the cage, and made sure the equipment obscured any view of her. Most of the staff had already left for the night. Now to wait for closing.
By the time she got settled in, her watch read 5:17. Only a quarter of an hour left.
“C’mon, you know we just have to keep it secret a little longer.”
Footsteps stopped at the door, then changed to swishing as they came onto the padded locker room floor. Two people, by the sound of it.
“I know. I’m just weirded out by it now.”
Their voices were too low to recognize—both male, but that was as much as she could tell. She tried to peek around the stack of equipment, but she’d done a pretty good job making herself invisible. She hadn’t imagined she’d want to look out.
“It’s not like she didn’t know, right?”
“No. She knew. She didn’t like it, but…”
“So there you go.”
“It’s just. You know, risky being back here.”
Back here?
Jil craned her neck but still couldn’t see. Was that Baz’s voice she recognized? She listened harder, but they were whispering.
“Yeah. But where else am I going to see you?”
One of them muttered something she couldn’t hear.
“…want to make sure it’s a for-sure thing with you, you know?”
“I’ll try to convince you.”
“Here?”
A low chuckle and the unmistakable sound of kissing, then soft groaning.
Jil ducked lower in the cage. Well, this was awkward. She looked at her watch: 5:29. Unlikely anyone would walk in and interrupt them.
The breathing grew harsher, louder, and one of them started moaning over and over again. Then the other one started. She bit her lip to keep from giggling, remembering her own near-encounter with Jess at the spa.
She slid down as far as she could go, waiting for them to be finished. Were they seriously having sex on top of an old floating dock covered in soggy mats? She rolled her eyes.
At last, with one final groan, they stopped.
“C’mon. Let’s get the place cleaned so we can get out of here. Grab some dinner or something.”
“Yeah. Sounds good.”
“When do you start at the new place?”
“Monday.”
“Good. Make sure you keep your head down and your nose clean. Make them trust you.”
“What are you, my daddy?”
A laugh. “Would you like that?”
She kept her eye on the door to see if she could spot who left, but the angle was wrong. She’d have to stand up and risk knocking something over. The first one left the room, and she slowly, slowly inched her way up.
A flash of blue hair.
It was him.
Baz. Tasha’s boyfriend.
Having sex with another guy.
Well, that was interesting.
When the door finally closed, she breathed a huge but silent sigh of relief and flexed her shoulders, stretching out the cramped muscles she hadn’t dared to move.
She went over the roster of staff in her mind, trying to figure out who the other guy might have been but came up empty. It could be any of the guys who worked there.
She checked her email while munching on a granola bar, waiting for silence to fall. That was interesting: the financials had come back on Ramone, and apparently, he owed a lot of money. More than he would make working here… Her stomach dropped. Damn. She really didn’t want to like him for this.
She clicked off her phone.
According to her intel, the cleaning and lockup should take only an hour. With those two she’d just witnessed, she wouldn’t be surprised if it took ten minutes.
At seven o’clock, she stood up, stretched again, and crept out of the cage.
Nothing.
She opened the door to the storage room, peeked out into the hall, then made her way slowly along the hallway to the stairs.
Still nothing.
At the door to the upper floor where the front entrance was, she stopped and looked out the window. A light shone down the hallway near Rebecca’s offices.
And a person walked across.
Who was that?
She checked her watch.
Nobody should be here at this hour. She pressed on the bar to open the door slowly, slowly, so it didn’t squeak, and let it close behind her. Keeping to the shadows, she crept through the atrium by the front admissions desk and down the hall toward the indoor aquariums.
A sliver of light shone from under a door in one of the rear workrooms. And a puddle had formed on the concrete floor, leaking out from under the door.
She frowned. That was the space where the staff cut fish, got together the food for the animals, and went through practice drills. It was also where they brought animals that needed medical attention. It held observation tanks and holding enclosures. A giant bed for sharks with mechanisms to stream water over them so they could breathe without being submerged. She’d seen it all on her first day, but this hadn’t been where she’d expected to catch a killer…
Avoiding the puddle, she leaned closer to the door.
A voice, loud and jovial, made her stop.
“Good evening and welcome to this edition of Fish Facts.”
Quietly, she turned the knob to the door and pushed it open.
Ramone turned around, a lobster in his hand. His jaw unhinged.
“What are you doing here?”
He stopped and stared, then quickly shut off the camera that was set up on the table beside him.
Jil folded her arms over her chest.
“Better question—what are you doing here?”
His mouth opened and closed for a few seconds, then he put the lobster down on the platform.
Jil looked at the setup on the metal counters. The animals lined up along the platform.
Ramone sighed.
“I’m making a YouTube video, okay?”
“A YouTube video? Why? About what?”
He opened a small underwater cage and tucked the lobster inside.
In another tank, a shark flipped its tail, sending another wave of water cascading over the side. Adding to the puddle.
“Isn’t that
tank a bit small for him?”
Ramone looked over. “It’s only for a few minutes. I wanted a guaranteed close-up shot.” He looked at the puddle on the floor. “Another insult to injury. The fridge went out earlier this morning. Then this.”
“The fridge?”
“Yeah. Which is why…”
He stopped.
Jil laughed. “Which is why you had to store your fish eyeballs in the staff fridge?”
Ramone sighed. “Don’t say anything. I needed them for tonight’s episode.”
Jil crowed. “Disgusting. Oh my God. What are you doing, anyway?”
“My oldest. She got accepted into a really good school, okay? In the States. And I can’t afford it. Not on what I make. I made the deposit by the skin on my teeth.”
Ah. That would explain the financials.
“Then I met this guy. A tourist. Told me all about multiple income streams. How I should start a YouTube channel. Get some followers. Make a few extra bucks.”
Jil relaxed. “Is it working?”
“Yeah.” Ramone’s face lit up. “The trouble is, I don’t have any animals of my own. So I gotta beg and borrow.”
“And Rebecca doesn’t know this?”
Ramone’s shoulders slumped. “I meant to tell her. I did. But I thought I’d better try it first, you know, see if I could actually do it. Just a trial run. Then I started thinking, what if she said no? What if she charged me to use them? Then everything that happened with Tsunami and all that, she was busy. So I just figured it wasn’t over until the fat lady sings. If she shut me down, I’d have to tell my baby girl that I couldn’t send her to that fancy college…”
“So you sneak in after hours and exploit the sea aquarium’s marine population for your own financial gain?”
Ramone stared at her. “Geez, man—when you say it like that, I sound like a real criminal.”
Jil laughed. “I don’t think filming YouTube videos is high on the list of felonies.”
“You’ll keep the cat in the bag, won’t you?”
Jil considered for a moment. “There’s something I need to know, Ramone.”
“Anything.”
“Were you here the night Tasha was killed?”
He let out a long breath. “Yes,” he said at last. “But I didn’t see her, I swear. I was filming, and left around seven thirty. Nobody else was in the building. I didn’t mention it, obviously…”
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