Six project manager interviews in two weeks. Yuck. “Yep. I’ve got it all saved in my calendar with reminders set.”
We stopped at the little cedar shake—covered booth guarding the entrance to our gated community. I hugged them goodbye. “Enjoy your night.”
The couple snuggled against one another as they made their way to Nate’s SUV in the clubhouse parking lot.
“Mia!” Bernie’s happy voice split the quiet night before her smiling face popped into view. The brown park ranger-esque uniform coordinated with the nature reserve theme of our community. Bernie was one of my favorite people on earth and the singular most efficient resource for all things Horseshoe Falls. “What brings you out tonight?”
“I’m looking for a friend of Grandma’s. He called to say he was coming, but he never made it to her place.”
“That’s odd.” Bernie puckered her face. “I let a guest in for your grandmother almost twenty minutes ago. He should be there by now, or he should’ve come back for better directions.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m on my way to her place. I’ll flag him down if I see him.” It wasn’t like he could’ve gotten far.
Horseshoe Falls was surrounded by twenty-foot ivy-covered walls erected to protect wealthy nature enthusiasts from the dreaded urban sprawl. Personally, I liked the sprawl, but I also liked the walls. I lived in the new condo construction. Grandma lived on the other side of the community, where homes were the size of airports and the age range was roughly fifty-five to dead.
“See you later, Bernie.” I stepped onto the street and immediately jumped back.
A pack of joggers in sweat suits and hoodies pounded past me on their evening circuit around the main drag. An overzealous runner bringing up the rear broke free and headed around the guard gate into the wide world outside. Good for him. I glanced admiringly at my new ballet flats and did a mental waltz through my shoe closet. I’d run with the female cross-country team in college, but these days I didn’t go farther than I could strut comfortably in my designer collection. Working three jobs earned me the right to aching, well-appointed feet, and it was a perk I wouldn’t give up easily.
I pushed the reminder of Jake’s impending arrival from my mind. What was I supposed to say when I saw him? What if he’d met someone else while he was undercover? What if he changed his mind about me? Maybe he’d be happier with a nice country girl who didn’t wear costumes and babble when he got too close.
I checked the time on my phone and teetered, deciding on a pace. I needed to be home when Jake arrived, so I should hurry, but I didn’t want to be sweaty when he got there, so I should slow down. Maybe Dante had made it to Grandma’s and I could turn back. I brought up the keypad.
A commotion near the lake caught my attention, and I turned my phone in that direction, using the illuminated screen for a better look. A pair of silhouettes made shrill, unintelligible sounds in the distance. One seemed to be human.
I changed direction and ignited my phone’s flashlight app, abandoning the call to Grandma. The setting sun hadn’t wasted any time dipping behind the two-story walls and distant hillside, casting our community in shadow. “Hello? Everything okay?”
“Help!” A woman’s voice called back. “My Sam is in the lake again!”
Oh, dear. I sprinted in her direction, tallying a mental list of men named Sam at Horseshoe Falls. I landed at her side moments later, out of breath, but relieved to see “her Sam” was a dripping wet spaniel and the woman was Grandma’s neighbor Polly. Sam was at least twice my age in dog years, but spry as a sprite. He jumped onto the shore upon my arrival.
“Hello, Sam.” I dropped to my knees and rubbed his wet head. “What are you doing in the lake? You’re getting all wet and upsetting your mama.”
Polly handed me his leash. “I’m so glad it’s you, Mia. He won’t listen to me at all.”
I snapped the clip onto his collar and stood to preserve my outfit. “It’s no problem.” I passed her the leash before I ended up in ten-year-old jeans and a Chewbacca shirt after all.
“Thank you. He saw something in the water and tried to pull it ashore, but couldn’t manage with his arthritis. I can barely see this time of night, which is why we’re headed home. We’d be there by now if Sam would stay out of the lake.” Her exasperation was palpable. “I hope it’s not trash in the water,” she fussed. “This isn’t that sort of community.”
I shined my phone’s light across the lake’s gently rippled surface. “I’m sure it isn’t trash.” Hopefully it wasn’t a duck Sam had slaughtered. I brushed the hand I’d petted him with against my skirt and gagged. Dead duck cooties were no way to start a date night.
“There. Do you see it? It looks like an oil spill.” Polly crept closer to the water’s edge.
There was definitely something. I baby-stepped around the perimeter for a better look. It was too large to be a duck. “Oh, no.” My pulse hammered between my ears, clogging my throat and sending black dots into my periphery. It’s not real. I closed my eyes and practiced various versions of the mantra that had kept me mostly sane since my run-in with two killers in ten months. It’s not real. You’re safe. It’s not real.
I reopened my eyes to the reality I feared most. The body was real. “Call nine-one-one!” I ran my phone to Polly. “Tell them there’s a man in the lake and he’s not breathing.” I tossed my glasses onto the grass and jumped into the murky water. I immediately lost both shoes to the sticky lake-bottom muck. I curled trembling fingers around the gray trench coat floating on the surface like an oversized lily pad and dragged the body toward me.
I flipped the man over and cradled his head on my shoulder as I swam his lifeless body to shore. “It’s going to be okay,” I assured myself as much as him. I crawled onto the bank and caught him under both arms to pull him over the fresh-cut grass. The job was nearly impossible without the water’s assistance.
Polly’s voice hiked into hysterics as I cleared the man’s airway and checked his pulse. His soft pale skin was cool, but so was the water. There was no pulse, so I breathed for him as a small crowd formed around us and Sam nudged me with his wet muzzle. I worked the man’s chest, ashamed at my relief that I didn’t know him. I’d lost two friends in less than a year and my heart couldn’t take losing another. Ever. I listened to his silent chest and repeated the pumping and breathing pattern until hot tears stung my frozen cheeks.
Polly knelt beside me and pressed her palm to my back. “It’s okay.” She rubbed a steady circle over my soaking blouse and repeated the words softly. “It’s okay.”
A wild sob broke free, and I fell back on my haunches, wiping my mouth with both hands, unable to steady my violently chattering teeth. Polly was wrong.
I hadn’t remembered Dante Weiss’s face at first, but there was no denying him now. Wide rectangle jaw, hooked prizefighter nose, bushy unkempt brows. The man from the lake was Dante Weiss. He was special to Grandma, and he was gone. That was definitely not okay.
Chapter Two
I sat on the ambulance’s bumper as an EMT checked my vitals and shined a penlight into my eyes. My glasses were off balance on my face after I nearly crushed them while searching the grass for them. The beautiful summer night I’d admired an hour before had taken a horrific turn. Everything seemed suddenly ominous and foreboding. Even the wildflowers smelled like sadness. I tugged the itchy sterile blanket tighter around my shoulders and pushed the image of Dante’s still face from my mind. I pressed the blanket to my mouth. I
could still feel his cold lips on mine. Dad had warned me never to perform CPR without a barrier. What if Dante had been poisoned? My tummy knotted painfully. What if I was poisoned?
“How are you feeling?” the EMT asked for the tenth time.
“I should’ve kept the CPR going longer.” Until the ambulances arrived. Until Dante’s heart restarted. Until there was a different outcome.
“You did all you could. Tell me how you feel. Physically.”
Physically, I was fine. Mentally, I flailed. My ability to process new information had gotten jammed up on the conundrum of how is this my life? I’d found three bodies in a year. It was statistically improbable for someone like me, yet here I was, soaked in fish water and calculating when the next one might appear, so I could be in Fiji instead. I’d also determined the number of deadbolts I could feasibly fit on my fancy nine-foot apartment door. Twenty-five, if I left room between each mechanism for proper installation. The idea of installing twenty-five deadbolts was ridiculous, of course, because they’d run floor to ceiling and I’d need a ladder to reach the top ones. Plus, no pizza deliverer in town would wait for me to get my ladder and open twenty-five locks. So, I’d only buy ten.
“Ms. Connors?” the EMT pressed. “I can give you something to help you rest tonight.”
I squinted at the full moon and twisted lake water from my hair and clothes. “No, thank you.” I didn’t want to sleep. I had too many questions and too few locks.
Why had Dante come here? Why tonight? Why had he called Grandma? What could she do to help him? What was his problem?
Uniformed cops shooed wildlife away from the crime scene and strung a makeshift fence of caution tape around a line of dowel rods. A cluster of geese waddled across the street, honking and balking at the unwelcome disruption. Squirrels and owls complained overhead. Men and women in navy windbreakers appeared. White block letters formed the words Crime Scene across their backs. The group spread out and shined giant flashlights at the ground in search of clues.
Where had Dante come from? How’d he end up in the lake?
“Mia!” A familiar tenor boomed up the street.
I craned my neck in search of Dan Archer, Jake’s younger brother and our local homicide detective. Footfalls thundered over the pavement, closing in on me at breakneck speed.
“Mia!” He stopped before me with fear in his eyes. “You’re okay?” He gripped my blanketed shoulders and released a long shaky breath. He took a seat at my side. “Praise the Lord.” He took long steady pulls of air and tapped his phone screen to life. “You scared the crap out of us.”
“Who?”
“Jake and me.” He made a crazy face. “We heard the call on our scanners. We couldn’t get ahold of you or Mary. No one’s at the clubhouse this late and Bernie hasn’t updated her blog.”
Mary was my grandma’s name, but everyone called her Grandma, except the Archers, who were far too polite to impose.
“She’s on her way. I didn’t know you called. Polly has my cell phone.” Shoot. Having my precious device be AWOL made me nervous. I hadn’t willingly separated from my cell phone in my life.
“Who’s Polly?”
“Grandma’s neighbor. She was at the lake when I went in. I gave the phone to her so I could try to help.”
“Where’s Polly now?”
I pointed. “Grandma called when she heard the sirens, but I was having trouble forming words. Polly was with me, so she took the call. The EMT brought me over here a few minutes later.”
Dan put his phone away. “I told Jake you’re okay. He’s on his way.”
“What?” I climbed off the bumper and tossed my blanket into the ambulance. “Why is he still coming? I can’t let him see me like this.” I raked a shaky hand through wet, knotted hair. “Look at me!”
“He doesn’t care what you look like. He cares that you’re safe. You’re starting to make a track record for yourself. When Dispatch announces a call in your zip code, we worry.”
Grandma appeared several feet away. Her normally jovial expression was gone, changed by fear and anxiety to something heartbreaking.
I swung both arms overhead. “Grandma!” I jogged to her side and stopped short of a hug. “I’m so sorry.”
She pulled me to her chest and squeezed. “Here. I brought you something dry.” She shoved a quilted bag at my chest. “They’re things from your old room. I’m not sure they’ll fit, but at least they’ll be warm.” She looked me over and pressed her soft hands to my cheeks. “Polly told me everything. She said I have a very brave and heroic granddaughter. I told her I’ve always known.”
“Thanks, Grandma.” Emotion stung my eyes. “You remember Dan Archer.”
“Of course.” She marched past me and extended her hand to Dan. “You’re going to get to the bottom of this, I hope. Dante Weiss was a dear friend of mine. He didn’t deserve this.”
I climbed into the ambulance and pulled the doors shut behind me to change clothes. The little area smelled of bleach and bandages. I’d never gotten inside an ambulance willingly.
Dan’s voice carried through the closed doors. “I want to help you, but I can’t overstep here,” he explained to Grandma. “I’m limited to homicide investigations. Trust me. If there’s any reason to think this was something other than accidental, I’ll make certain Dante gets justice.”
I shoved damp legs into low-rise skinny jeans from a time in undergrad when I’d lived briefly with Grandma, and pulled a clingy V-neck Batman T-shirt over my head. The dry fabric warmed me instantly. The soft cotton top still fit, but I was wider and significantly more endowed than the last time I’d worn it. My twenties had been good to me. Then again, late blooming was a lifelong pattern of mine. I rubbed a scratchy blanket against my hair and eavesdropped on Dan and Grandma’s conversation.
Grandma’s disposition devolved slowly as I pulled tube socks and gym shoes over my frozen, filthy feet. I couldn’t make out her words, but her pitch and tone indicated Dan should agree with her soon or be stoned.
I opened the ambulance doors and rejoined them, taking a seat on the cool metal floor.
Dan whistled long and slow. “Hello, Batman.”
I wrung excess water from my discarded clothing and dropped the outfit into Grandma’s empty bag. “Let’s never speak of this outfit again.”
Grandma huffed. “It was that or the denim skirt with all the zippers and that tube top with a bull’s-eye.”
Cool evening wind whipped through me. I pulled my knees to my chest and traced the marks on my shoe with a frozen fingertip. My gray Converse were covered in doodles from a permanent marker and a busy young mind. “This is fine. Thank you for thinking of it. The tube top doesn’t have a bull’s-eye, though. It’s Captain America’s shield.”
“You always loved the soldiers.”
Truer words were never spoken.
Dan tried to cover a laugh by coughing into his hand. Didn’t work. He did, however, regain Grandma’s attention.
“Dante couldn’t swim,” she started again. “He wouldn’t have gone into the lake. He wouldn’t have gone near the lake. Someone put him in there.”
I wasn’t convinced. “Maybe he learned to swim since you last discussed it. It has to have been years since you’d have a reason to talk about swimming.”
“He was deathly afraid of water.” Her voice cracked. She covered her mouth with one hand. “He was terrified.”
Not really the time or place for a swim either.
Dan stared through the night to the lake. Perhaps her proclamation or despair had gained his interest. “He was fully dressed when he went in?”
“Yes,” I answered. “He even had a trench coat on.”
Dan swung his gaze back to Grandma. “Any chance he’d been drinking? History of drug use or a medical condition that might have diso
riented him?”
“No. I mean, maybe in the sixties, but that was another time. He’s an upstanding citizen today.”
I shook my head. “Don’t say anything else. We don’t need another public relations nightmare.”
She pulled her long silver braid over one shoulder and fiddled with the ends. “There’s nothing to clean up. We stopped hanging with Mary Jane decades ago, if you know what I mean.”
“I do. Everyone does. Please stop.”
“Life was simpler then.”
My life was simpler a year ago, before I faced my first murder victim and shortly thereafter, his murderer. Time made everything more complicated. “I don’t understand where he left his car. Bernie said she let him through the gate about twenty minutes before I found him. The only vehicles I see are emergency responders with police chasers.”
Dan scanned the area. “Horseshoe Falls isn’t that big. If Bernie saw the car come in, and not go out, we’ll find it tonight.”
Grandma widened her eyes. “Did you say we? You’ll help?”
“I’ll do what I can, but this won’t be assigned to me unless there’s reason to assume foul play.”
Grandma pursed her lips. She’d already made her case.
Polly and Sam closed the distance between us. She handed me my phone. “I didn’t realize I still had this.” She hugged Grandma. “I gave my statement to the officers. We’re going home. I need hot tea to process this nightmare. Sam needs a bath after swimming in that water. He smells like duck doo-doo.”
I turned my head for a sniff of my hair. Gross, so did I.
Polly hugged Grandma goodbye, and offered me a sad smile and tiny wave.
I gave the unfortunate scene another look. Cops and flashlights speckled the night. Freestanding spotlights aimed at the lake. A familiar silhouette stormed its way up the crowded street, dipping around barrier tape and moving with swift authority.
A Geek Girl's Guide to Justice (The Geek Girl Mysteries) Page 2
