Fast Slide

by Melanie Jackson

  I was sweating. I backed farther into the shade of the Boa tube. It was flat for the first twelve yards, before the first plunge.

  Brad raised his voice so I would still hear him. “When Dad hired you, I decided I would find a way to make you pay. I got Aggie and Judd jobs at the water park. Dad was pleased that I was making friends.

  “When I realized that Dad left money in that till drawer all week, the robbery became a cinch. Aggie would steal the forty grand and we’d split it. We’d set you up to take the blame. You wouldn’t seem so wonderful then!” Brad gave a shrill laugh.

  “Aggie would glue herself to you. Everyone at the water park would assume you were girlfriend-boyfriend. She’d claim you sweet-talked the pin out of her. Judd would say he saw the money in your knapsack.”

  Brad’s shoulders sagged. “But then Aggie started liking you, just like everyone does. She told me she couldn’t go through with it.

  “During her fight with Judd, when she begged him to confess to Dad, I was behind the bamboo screen. I called her back there. I tried to talk her into staying with the game plan.

  “She got mad and tried to leave. I grabbed her, begged her to listen. She pulled away—and fell, smashing her head against the corner of the freezer.

  “She was dead.” Tears trickled from under Brad’s glasses. He removed them and wiped at the tears with the back of his hand. “I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. I hid her body in the freezer.”

  I remembered stepping behind the bamboo screen. I remembered my certainty that Aggie was nearby. She’d been nearby, all right. Who knew? Maybe the dead made their presence felt. Maybe Aggie’s ghost had lingered, trying to warn me. Watch out, Clay…

  Aggie’s face floated into my vision. The image was too vivid. I was fever-hallucinating. I shook my head to get her out of the way.

  Brad heaved a deep breath. He put his glasses back on. “The only way out was to frame you for Aggie’s death too. I counted on your flaw, Clay. Your explosive temper. People had seen you push Aggie around.

  “When you went to look for the mask, I phoned Judd. I told him you might be listening, so he should act like it was Aggie on the phone. I wanted you to think she was at the top—alive. I snuck up behind you on the platform and bashed you with that wrench. I put the wrench into your hand so you’d get blamed for hitting Aggie.

  “I shoved Aggie’s body into the tube. I called Judd and got him to turn the water on full blast. The frame-up was complete.”

  I said slowly, “You may not have meant to kill Aggie, but you did plan the robbery. Not for money though. For revenge—against me.”

  A small smile flickered on Brad’s face. “Yeah. You got it, Clay. I was going to savor seeing the guy Dad idolized go down for the robbery. Now everyone will think you’re a murderer too.”

  The painkillers were wearing off. My head was throbbing. I felt disgust—but also pity. Brad had been shut out by me, by his father, by almost everyone, all these years.

  Brad said, “It’s too bad that I can’t enjoy all my hard work the way I wanted.”

  Hardly knowing what I was doing, I crawled deeper into the tunnel. “What do you mean, Brad?” I called back.

  Brad stuck his head inside the Boa tunnel. He explained, as if he was sharing one of his factoids, “Because now I have to kill you.”

  Brad crawled after me into the Boa tube. I pressed up against the wall. Ordinarily I could have swabbed the tube floor with Brad, but in my condition I was no match for anyone. My only chance was to knock him sideways, then make it out to the forest.

  As plans went, it was pretty lame.

  As Brad advanced, I slid along the wall toward the tube opening. Distract him. Get him to brag some more. I said, “You got Judd to put on a lynx mask and make it obvious to me that he was wearing it. What was that about?”

  Brad checked his watch. “Aggie warned Judd she’d tell everything. She said she’d already mentioned ‘Links’ to you. She said next time she’d tell you who Links was.

  “I had to convince you that it was an animal reference. After I went home to change my suit, I stopped by a costume shop for a lynx mask. I got Judd to wear it while I was visiting you. That way you’d think of lynxes—and you’d suspect him of being the Lynx.

  “I fed you a line about being bullied. It was vital that you feel sorry for me, Clay.”

  I couldn’t see straight. There were several Brads floating across my field of vision. I focused on the one in the middle. “I didn’t feel sorry for you, Brad. I liked you. But know what? I feel real sorry for you now, buddy.”

  Brad didn’t reply. Again he checked his watch. Brad—the many Brads in my vision—fished the cuff links out of his pocket. He rolled them around again like dice.

  Maybe Brad was thinking about dice too. He shrugged, “You took a gamble, champ. And you lost.”

  The different Brads formed a circle and spun like a Ferris wheel. More than anything, I wanted to shut them out, to sleep. I leaned back and rested my eyes.

  The first spray of water was refreshing, like rain.

  But it wasn’t rain. I struggled to sit up.

  The few drops turned into a coursing river. Water was surging from the landing pool into the tube. It was now clear to me why Brad kept checking his watch. He had set the timer in the control room to open the pipes. The Boa was filling. He’d set the controls to full blast.

  Brad intended to drown me.

  Chapter Twelve

  I started sloshing toward the tube entrance, but Brad blocked me. “This is what I’m gonna tell them: You set the timer. You tried to shove me in to drown me. But I got away.”

  We both swayed in the force of the water. He said, “I made sure to shut the door at the end of the tube, Clay. And you won’t be able to swim up again. Being a champ won’t help even you.”

  I dove for his legs, toppling him. I crawled toward the daylight-filled tube opening.

  Brad dragged me back by the feet.

  I was underwater now. Brad was above me, fist upraised for a punch that would knock me unconscious—like Aggie had been.

  I veered sideways as his fist descended. I staggered up. By now Brad’s wet glasses were blurring his vision. He flailed his arms wildly, unable to pinpoint me.

  Still, if I tried to move past him, those flailing arms would lock on to me. There wasn’t enough room in the tube to give him a wide berth.

  I made a decision: if I was going to die, let it be by water, not Bradley Costello. I could at least die by something I’d always loved.

  Brad lurched closer. The water was swirling around our waists now. I leaned back so I was floating. Lifting one foot, I smashed it into Brad’s face.

  I didn’t need to backstroke away from him. The water carried me toward the first plunge in the waterslide. I saw Brad’s glasses splinter—saw blood spurt from his nose.

  And then I was swept down the tube.

  The Boa’s initial flat surface was fairly gentle. Now, with the gravity of that first drop, the current turned into a vortex. The Boa was sucking me down, whirling me around in a fury of bubbles and white foam.

  It was a minute and a half to the bottom of the Boa. Holding my breath that long was nothing—as a swimmer, I was trained to hold it for at least two minutes.

  Another challenge bothered me more: Boa’s killer current. A strong swimmer might survive it. But I’d been battered and bashed around. Brad’s words came back: Being a champ won’t help even you.

  No. I wouldn’t think about that. I wouldn’t waste energy on Brad’s taunts. I had to survive second by second. I had to prepare for the Boa’s first twist. I remembered hearing the echoes from rafts hitting the turns. A rubber raft could survive being hurled against a wall. I wasn’t so sure about my damaged skull. I wrapped my arms over my head—

  Wham. I took the first turn. My left shoulder crunched against the wall. I barely missed bashing my skull.

  Down and down I went. The water was tossing me around. I was going to ra
m feet-first against the next turn. If that happened, I could break both legs.

  I curled into a ball. Smash. I hit the turn sideways.

  There was a long plunge here. I had a few seconds’ break from worrying about the next turn. The drawback to falling straight was that I built up speed. I was really going to slam into the next turn.

  The water cartwheeled me again. I was falling so fast, I was disoriented. I couldn’t tell how I was going to hit the turn. I tightened my arms around my head and prayed—

  BAM. BAM.

  I collided against the wall so hard, I actually bounced and met it again. I heard my right arm crack and splinter. Pain seared it. I opened my mouth for an agonized yell that blew out in a hundred bubbles.

  Forget swimming back up the tube once I reached the bottom. There was no way I’d manage that. My right arm was totaled.

  But then, I didn’t need to swim up the Boa again.

  Because Brad was wrong about the door. The Boa barfed me out with a mega-splash into the landing pool.

  One of my knees touched bottom. After what I’d been through, the bump was more like a caress. Unable to use my right arm, I flailed with the left and kicked clumsily upward. I had to fight against the water gushing out of the Boa. My lungs and ears felt ready to burst with the strain of holding my breath.

  I swam upward at a diagonal to avoid the force of the downpour. I needed to reach the side of the pool…I needed to breathe…

  By the side of the pool, the water was calmer. I could see the surface— and through it—to the huge Boa mouth leering down at me. I plowed up and felt air on my face.

  I exhaled, then glugged oxygen back in. Propping my good arm over the side of the pool, I heaved breaths in and out. No dessert was sweeter than this. Why had I never noticed how pure and fresh the air was around here?

  I heard footsteps.

  My first thought was: Brad.

  But Brad couldn’t have made it down the mountain this fast. Or could he? I wasn’t sure how long I’d been hanging on to the side of the pool.

  With an effort, I leaned my chin on my arm and looked up.

  Detective Mulligan leered—not unlike the plastic Boa—down at me. “So, I get to make my arrest, after all.”

  I couldn’t say anything. Couldn’t speak.

  The detective knelt. “Looks like you wrecked your arm pretty bad, son.”

  I glanced behind me. Blood was clouding the pool. I nodded. Then I shook my head. “I don’t know anything anymore, sir. Do what you have to do.”

  “Oh, I will.” Mulligan dragged me out of the pool. Removing a pair of handcuffs from a jacket pocket, he dangled them in front of me. In the slanting sun, they sparkled like Brad’s cuff links.

  “Detective! No!”

  Janice was running toward us.

  “Don’t arrest Clay. He didn’t kill Aggie—he didn’t steal Dad’s money. I’m sure of it!”

  Mulligan rolled his eyes. “Young love. Give me a break.”

  Janice bounded up the stairs to the platform. She sat down and put her arms around me. “I’m so sorry, Clay. What happened? Did he do this to you?” She shot a foul look at Mulligan.

  It should have been funny. Yeah, I’d laugh about this one day. When I was eighty.

  But I could live to be a hundred, and Janice would never put her arms around me again.

  Footsteps pounded down the stairs, interrupted by a crash and an oof ! Brad tripped and fell as he hurried down. Typical Bradley klutziness. That should have been funny too.

  Limping toward us, Brad shouted, “I’m so relieved you caught him, Detective. He tried to kill me up there. We struggled, and—”

  “What are you saying, Brad?” Janice stared at him in disbelief.

  Brad gulped and blurted, “Get away from Clay, Jan. He’s a murderer.”

  “You don’t need to say another word,” Detective Mulligan assured Brad. He stepped forward with the handcuffs.

  And, with a deft click, snapped them around Brad’s wrists.

  Brad turned a satisfying shade of purple. “Not me, Detective. Clay took the money. Clay drowned Aggie. They were a couple. Everyone knew. And Judd saw Clay—”

  “Weren’t you listening, Costello?” barked Mulligan. “I don’t need you to say anything. Because you’ve already told me all I need to know.”

  “Whaa—?” Brad gaped from the detective to me.

  “Yeah, that’s right, brainiac,” Mulligan said. “I heard every word you said through the tube. You planned the robbery with Judd and Aggie. Only Aggie had second thoughts, and now she’s dead.

  “One of my officers is arresting Judd at his home right now. We’re gonna book him as your accomplice.”

  Brad looked like he’d finally met the factoid he couldn’t compute.

  Mulligan smiled coolly at him. “Boa’s famous for its echo effect, right?” He nodded toward me. “It was young Clay’s idea. He phoned me, right after he phoned Judd. Said he was going to get a confession out of you at the top of the tube. The deal was, I’d wait at the bottom of the tube by the open door and listen.”

  Janice turned on me, green eyes fiery with accusation. “You set Brad up. You set up my brother.”

  Brad was so stunned, he started rolling the cuff links around in one of his cuffed hands. He’d been holding them all the time.

  I said wearily, “You were right, Brad. I did gamble. But you were the one who lost.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was a week later. Safari Splash was still closed. No one was allowed in until the police finished their investigation. With no one around, animals—real animals—had ventured out of the forest. Raccoons ambled around the concession, looking for French fries. Squirrels raced up and down on top of the tubes.

  Detective Mulligan and I stood at top of the Boa. It was my last visit to the water park. Mr. Costello didn’t want an employee who’d betrayed his son.

  “It all comes down to dirty laundry,” I said.

  Mulligan nodded. He unpeeled a lollipop and stuck it in his mouth. “Yup, the Costellos’ dirty laundry is out in the open now. Bradley has serious emotional problems. It’s better his family knows about them. Now Brad can get help. Let’s hope he won’t target any more victims like Aggie Wentworth.”

  A vision of Aggie’s pleading face hovered in front of me.

  I nodded. “That’s all true, Detective. But I didn’t mean that kind of dirty laundry.”

  I led him behind the bamboo screen to the hamper where attendants tossed used towels. Lifting the lid, I explained, “Before Brad sneaked up on me, I was holding the lynx mask—the one Judd had worn. Aware Judd would be back any minute, I stashed it. For a long time I couldn’t remember where. Then I realized I’d hidden it where no one ever looks.”

  I pushed several towels aside, and there it was. The lynx mask.

  “Perfect,” said Mulligan. “So much for Judd’s denials about being Brad’s accomplice. Forensics will show he wore it.” The detective pulled out a pair of plastic gloves and a plastic bag. With the gloves on, he took hold of the mask by the edge and dropped it into the bag.

  “Yeah, sure,” I said. “Everything’s just perfect.”

  I was remembering how Janice had turned sharply away from me to climb into the police car with Brad. I had phoned her a few times, but she kept hanging up.

  Mulligan clattered the lollipop around in his mouth. “Still thinking about the Costello girl?”

  “She’ll never forgive me.”

  The detective zip-sealed the plastic bag. “I dunno, kid. Never’s a long time. I could see she liked you.”

  I looked at Mulligan. There was something in those narrowed eyes I hadn’t seen before. A glint of kindness.

  “I thought you said cops weren’t human,” I said.

  “Did I?” He crunched down on his lollipop, releasing waves of grape scent. “Well, you better keep my secret then.”

  About the Author

  Melanie Jackson is the author of the popular Din
ah Galloway Mystery series, as well as The Big Dip in the Orca Currents series. Melanie lives in Vancouver, British Columbia.

  For more titles in the Orca Currents series, please click here.