All humor drained as she listened to him. Unease rippled down her back as she watched the envy transform him from an ordinary, plain man into something a bit more…menacing.
“It’s that moment on the edge of life and death,” he continued, seemingly lost in his speech. His eyes drifted off into his own vision. “That split second when all the cares in the world fade. You forgot to pay a bill? Gone. You ate too much ice cream? Forget it. Nothing matters as the weight of living is eased from your shoulders.”
His words…his words scared her.
“You should know what I’m talking about,” he continued.
“Why would I know?”
“Because you died. As you were sinking to the bottom of the pool you had a strange but lovely expression on your face. As if, in those last few seconds of life, you had found Utopia. Don’t you remember?”
Charlotte’s stomach rolled as she stared at him. “No, I don’t remember,” she whispered.
He reached out and took hold of her hand. “You shouldn’t be ashamed that you gave up. It happens.”
She gently removed her hand from his. “But you brought me back.”
“I did, didn’t I?” He shrugged and leaned back in the booth, taking a long drink of his coffee. “We went to school together. I used to watch you in the hallways, laughing, having fun. And then you’d swim at the club and you transformed into this…angel. Water does that to a person, I suppose. When it surrounds you.”
His mention of the word angel made her almost vomit up her pancakes.
“And then you gave up swimming.”
She didn’t know what to say or do or even what to think. Fear washed through her as she tried to make her mind shy away from the thought that kept creeping in that she was looking at her killer. After all this time, the nightmare she’d lived with for twelve years, wondering and second-guessing everyone in her life…her murderer now sat across from her and it broke her heart.
He had once been her savior.
Even as she raged inside and the little voice in her head urged her to run away screaming, complete calm descended over her, steadying her impulses.
“I didn’t feel like being in the water anymore,” she answered, though she supposed he hadn’t really asked a question.
“That’s a pity,” he replied blandly. “You were amazing. So fast. I used to watch you for hours at the club.”
She shivered. His words made her skin crawl and she suddenly lost her appetite. She pushed her plate away, wondering abstractly if this was going to ruin Donna’s for her.
“You’re full?” he asked. And just like that, the dark persona he had just been crashed and crumbled away, leaving behind the young man she had thought she’d known. The man she had lauded as a hero and hadn’t thought twice about being her first. She scooted out of the booth.
“You know, I just remembered I was supposed to meet up with Holly and Al,” she told him. She dug a twenty out of her purse and threw it down on the table. “Thanks for meeting me for breakfast.”
He smiled. “Of course. Let’s do it again before you go back to Santa Fe.”
She didn’t tell him there would be no chance in hell of ever doing that. Instead, she shrugged. “We’ll see. Take care, Tucker.”
“I’ll be seeing you.”
Somehow that terrified her the most because it sounded like a promise.
As soon as Charlotte stepped out of the diner, she took off at a near run, or at least going as fast as she could manage in her Manolo Blahnik knockoffs. She pulled her cell phone out of her purse and quickly hit her speed dial number for Jonas. It went straight to voicemail. She hung up and dialed Al.
“Yes, Charlotte?” Al answered.
“Where are you? Where’s Holly?” she practically barked.
“Calm down. I’m at the HS office and Holly’s in a Skype meeting with her firm. Are you all right? Where’s Nash?”
“I’m alone.”
“What? Christ, Charlotte, I can’t believe this—”
“Listen,” she interrupted, panting. Her speedy escape made her a bit breathy as she talked. “Is Jonas with you?”
“No. What is going on, Charlotte?”
She almost choked on his name. “Tucker Martell.”
Silence met her for a brief second and then when Alastair answered her, steel lined his words. “What did he do?”
“I think…oh god, I think you and Jonas and Nash are right, Al. I think Tucker drowned me and then for some unknown reason decided to save me.”
“Charlotte, where are you?”
Coming to a halt, she panted from her mad dash from Donna’s and looked around. “I’m in front of the library.”
“Stay there, I’m calling Nash.”
“All right. No, wait,” she said as a new idea struck her. Or specifically, a thought on something that Tucker had said. “I’m actually going to check something out.”
“Check what out? Charlotte, this is not the time for perusing books! Just stay there, for god’s sake!”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m here. Try to get in touch with Jonas.”
“Charlotte, don’t hang—”
She clicked off her phone and ran into the large library. The inside was spacious and airy due to part of one wall being wide open, allowing access to a small outdoor patio where several people sat at tables, drinking coffee and reading. This early in the morning, there were mostly academic types immersed in book pages.
She walked over to the information desk and the woman behind the counter gave her a polite if impersonal smile of acknowledgement.
“Hello,” Charlotte greeted. “I’m trying to research Santa Monica newspapers from oh, twenty years ago to about twelve years ago.”
“Our microfilm is on the second floor directly across from the stairs,” the woman told her.
Charlotte blinked. “Microfilm? I thought everything was digitized nowadays.”
The woman gave her a look as if she’d heard the same thing many times before. “Microfilm is the preferred method of preserving in costs as well as protecting against corrupted, lost, or unstable computer data.”
“Oh, okay then. Do I need a library card to use the microfilm room?”
“Are you a resident or would you be a one-time user?”
“One-time user.”
The woman handed over a piece of paper. “Fill this out and I’ll need a driver’s license with your current address.”
The form only took a moment to fill out. A few seconds later, Charlotte was on her way up the stairs to the microfilm room. The area was behind a closed door and held several large, computerlike machines. Once the librarian had brought the requested box to her and showed her how to work the machine, she left Charlotte alone to her task. Going through all of this, searching for a clue, probably was pointless but Charlotte couldn’t shake the feeling that Tucker had experienced the feeling of drowning. And if that’s the case, then maybe a story followed.
The microfilm room was dark. Two computers sat next to each other and rows of cabinets lined the walls. Charlotte told the librarian what she was looking for. The woman helped her find the rolls of film she needed and after a quick tutorial, Charlotte settled down and began methodically going after a hunch.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she checked it, seeing a message from Nash. She quickly texted back where she was and that she was okay before resuming her search. About half an hour later, her phone buzzed again. This time the message came from Jonas, who informed her she was in big trouble. She texted him a smiley face. He texted she wasn’t funny. She texted him shut up. He didn’t text back.
Another half hour passed and this time, when her phone vibrated, she saw that it was Nash again.
Sitting right outside the door. Will wait for you to finish.
She smiled and wondered why couldn’t Jonas be that nice. She figured it was because out of the two men, Jonas took problems and situations a little more seriously. Nash liked to throw a fun spin on whatever he was
doing.
It took her another hour to finally wonder if she was chasing one big made-up fantasy. When she had talked to Tucker earlier, there had been something in the tone of his voice that resonated with her, as if he had experienced the exact same thing that she felt. Never, for the rest of her life, would she ever forget that strange calmness that descended over her as her body gave up the will to fight. It’d been…almost orgasmic. Not that it had given her any pleasure, rather it had been this intense feeling of surrender, letting go to the pain clawing at her lungs as well as the fear and worry. The doctors had told her that a lack of oxygen to the brain allowed adrenaline to kick in, trying to buy the body a few more seconds for air, but the feel-good chemical induced a state of euphoria. Charlotte rather abstractly thought it was God’s way of letting people reconcile to death.
Her gaze landed on a small article at the bottom of a page and her breath caught. She read it quickly, feeling a surge of satisfaction. She quickly printed off the page and then closed down her station, returning the microfilm to the librarian.
When she stepped out of the room, she saw Nash sitting comfortably in a chair, staring out of the window. As if sensing her gaze, he turned to look at her and gave her a quick up-and-down perusal that made her heart beat a little faster.
He stood as she walked toward him.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” he asked.
She nodded and handed him the piece of paper. He read it quickly and raised his brow as he looked at her. “How did you know?”
“It was something he said,” she replied. “He mentioned a feeling when the water surrounds you but I didn’t know if I’d find anything. It was just a feeling.”
“Well, everyone at the house is pissed so expect a little bit of hell when you get back, but otherwise,” he said as he held up the paper, “great job, Agent Perth.”
He held out his elbow and she took it as they made their way down the staircase to the library exit.
“You think Al would hire me?”
“Not in a million years.”
“Why not?” she asked, a bit of petulance creeping into her voice.
“You think Holly would let him? It’s all too obvious who wears the pants in that family.”
“Don’t let Al hear you say that.”
“I know,” he said with a grimace. “He’d kick my ass just prove how wrong I am. Listen, if you need to do anything crazy like confront a killer…well, again, please let me know. I know how to stay out of sight but be close enough to protect you, if need be.”
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “But I had to make sure.”
He sighed. “I know.”
He reached down and took her hand in his, lacing their fingers.
Chapter Fourteen
“Where the hell have you been?” Delia yelled as soon as they stepped into the house. “Did you ever consider the feelings of your family and your boyfriends when they discovered you had just vamoosed out the door? Highly inconsiderate, Charlotte! And going to meet your potential killer? You’re three gallons of crazy in a two gallon bucket!”
The entire room fell silent. Charlotte’s mouth dropped open and she couldn’t stop staring at Delia. Never, never ever in thirty years had she ever heard her older sister raise her voice once, not even the time when Delia’s science project in eleventh grade, which had been a shockingly accurate if gruesome life-size cadaver made out of hamburger meat, had been sabotaged.
Seeing the anger lined on Delia’s face was like having a bucket of cold water dumped over her head. Charlotte blinked and looked around to the rest of the set faces. Her mother stood inside her father’s arms, a myriad of emotions crossing over their faces. Jonas watched her with glittering eyes and she could see he was spoiling for a fight. Alastair had his hands on his hips and Holly sat at the table, cradling a mug of steaming coffee in her hands.
Only Kira was missing and that fact hit Charlotte like a hammer in the solar plexus.
“I know,” she told Delia. “But I had to know, in here, if he could have done this to me.” She tapped her heart.
“And?” Delia snapped.
“They were right,” she answered, nodding toward Alastair, Nash, and Jonas.
“Then I hope I’m there when karma ass-fucks him with a cactus.”
Charlotte couldn’t help but burst out laughing amid the gasps of shock and snorts of humor.
“Delia!” her mother sputtered.
“What?” Delia groused. “This man we thought was a friend hurt her and killed another young girl! Of course I want to see him suffer in the worst possible way!”
“But you’re a doctor,” Holly said. “Didn’t you take an oath?”
Delia waved away the reminder. “I don’t plan to do the harming myself but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy watching it happen when it’s deserved.”
Again, the room fell silent.
Charlotte cocked her head. “Have you always been this bloodthirsty?”
Delia pulled Charlotte into a hug, squeezing her tightly. “You tell us you almost died. How could I not lust for the blood of the man who did that to you?”
Charlotte hugged her back. “I love you, too.”
“All right,” Alastair said, speaking up. “Now that Charlotte’s been properly chastised—”
“Wait!” Charlotte interrupted. “I think I found out why.”
“Why what?”
“Why he did that to me.” She held up the printout.
“What’s that?” Jonas asked. He walked up to her and took it out of her hand to skim over it. “Good god.”
“What does it say?” Alastair asked sharply.
Jonas held up the paper. “It’s a newspaper article on how Tucker Martell almost drowned while surfing.”
There was an audible gasp from everyone.
Alastair took the paper and began reading aloud. “Officials were called to the beach where paramedics had just revived a teenager who fell off his surf board during rough tide. Tucker Martell, fifteen, was taken to Santa Monica Hospital where he was treated for minor cuts and bruises along with a cracked rib where CPR had been administered.”
“When I was talking with him,” Charlotte said to the quiet crowd, “he mentioned something that I had experienced. It made me think he had to have gone through what I went through.”
“Is that how you knew he was the one?” Jonas asked. He put his hand around her shoulders.
She leaned into him, her earlier agitation with him currently forgotten. “No. What made me believe was when he told me how I looked under the water. Someone who comes upon a drowned victim doesn’t take the time to admire what they look like.”
“That and the fact that the pool is sixteen feet deep,” her father injected. “How would he know what you looked like that far down?”
“This changes things,” Alastair replied. “It makes me wonder if you were his first victim.”
The story of Peggy Mead flashed through her mind and she shivered. “I just wished I knew why he decided to resuscitate me.”
“Self-preservation, I assume,” Nash said.
“How so?”
“He would have been under heavy scrutiny if you’d been found drowned,” he answered. “The first people at the scene of a crime are always investigated heavily so maybe he didn’t want to chance an interrogation. He said he heard someone at the fence and he came to investigate. That’s how he came to find you at the bottom of the pool. But then you told your story of getting a cramp and all police involvement ceased. That tells me he was getting ready for his statement.”
“Yeah,” she said. “You’re probably right.”
She just wished she felt that was truth. Unfortunately, something continued to nag at her.
“Can I talk with you outside?” Jonas murmured in her ear.
She nodded and took his hand. “If all of you don’t mind, Jonas and I need to talk. We’ll be on the swing.”
She saw Nash raise his eyebrows and give a no
d to Jonas that she had no idea how to interpret. Were the boys starting to get along?
The evening air was cool, which was not unusual for Santa Monica. They sat on the porch swing and the movement of their bodies had them swaying slightly. He clasped her hand, linking their fingers together. She stared at his profile.
“I’m sorry, you know. For being so bratty earlier.”
“And I’m sorry for pushing,” he murmured, turning his head to look at her. “The past few days have been a little out of my comfort zone.”
“Too much out of your comfort zone?”
“I love you, Charlotte Perth,” he said solemnly. “And it’s not the type of love that goes away when things get a little unsure. I accept every part of what life has to hold, if it means having you in mine, even if that includes disagreeing with me on cases.”
Tears sprang into her eyes and she leaned over and kissed him softly on the mouth. “I love you too, Jonas.”
He bumped noses with her. “Don’t scare me again.”
“I’ll try not to,” she promised.
He sighed. “Yeah, you seem to say that a lot.”
* * * *
She was standing on the deck of a ship, swaying with the gentle rocking of the water. The ocean lay peaceful, vast as it stretched out before her endlessly. Small whitecaps broke the surface every now and again as she kept a watchful eye on the horizon.
In the dream, she knew what she was searching for, and when the long stream of water jetted into the air, followed by the emerging of a huge whale, she knew she’d found her destiny. She ran to the wheel and spun it hard starboard, catching the wind and having the boat surge forward with a burst of power. She chased the whale, knowing she only had a few minutes before it sank again in the great blue depths, lost to her forever.
Her heart thundered with excitement. She knew she was going to catch him this time. She’d put an end to her misery, to her fear and frustration. She would catch the demon and destroy him forever.
Breathless [McKnight, Perth & Daire 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 13
