Lethal Tide

by Beth Prentice

  Okay, I'd had enough of this. I was just trying to help someone out, and I got into this mess. I dropped Martin's foot and grabbed hers, pulling her towards me. Her dress flipped all the way up, and I got a very good view of her G-string. Where was the blown bulb when I needed one?

  Martin groaned and held tighter.

  Argh!! Maybe I should leave them like that. No I couldn't. The weather forecast was rain for tonight. Even though that would probably sober them both up.

  I gave up and phoned Casey. He was a bartender. He would know what to do.

  Twenty minutes later Casey pulled his car into their driveway behind mine.

  Assessing the situation, he looked at me and grinned. "You sure know how to get yourself into a mess."

  Lori had fallen asleep. I had checked her regularly to see that it was sleep and not from a lack of oxygen.

  "All I was trying to do was to help. I should be at your place, snuggled up with you in bed. But no. I had to open my mouth and offer to drop them home. Why? Why did I do that?" I asked, exasperated more with myself than them.

  "In bed, hey?" Casey grinned.

  Even from the glow of the light I could see the glint in his eye.

  "Yes. In bed. With you."

  "Well, we shouldn't put that off any longer than needed. You grab Martin's feet, and I'll grab his arms. We'll carry him in that way."

  "What about Lori?"

  "We'll come back for her." I was at the stage where I really couldn't care if I came back for her or not.

  I did as Casey asked, and we carried Martin to the front door. Casey tried to open it.

  "Keys?" he asked, looking at me like I had them.

  I looked at Martin and groaned. "They're probably in his pocket."

  "Can you get them out?"

  "Really? You want me to feel around in his pocket?" I looked to Martin's Hawaiian print short shorts and exactly where the bulge from his wallet sat. I imagined his keys to be in the same location.

  "It's better than me doing it." Casey grinned.

  "There's not a spare under a rock or something? That's where we keep ours." I really didn't want to put my hand in Martin's pocket. "What if he wakes up and gets the wrong idea? He might think I'm groping him or something."

  "Is that how you grope an unconscious man, is it? Through his pocket?"

  "Well, excuse me! I've never groped an unconscious man before, so how would I know?" I was really starting to get ticked off.

  Casey let out a bark of laughter. "Just get the key."

  Hunph. I dropped Martin's feet, closed my eyes, and went into his pocket, being very careful about what I accidentally touched. I came out with the keys. Thank goodness.

  Throwing them to Casey, I stood back and looked at the grin Martin was now wearing.

  "What are we going to do with them once we have them inside?" I asked, scowling.

  "We'll put them on top of their bed and leave."

  "What if they vomit or something. They could choke and die." I didn't want that happening on my watch. Or at all, for that matter.

  "We'll put them in the recovery position. They won't choke that way."

  Okay, that sounded alright.

  Casey opened the door and flipped on a light switch. As we carried Martin over the threshold I shivered. Their house was not what I expected.

  On the walls, on the floors, and on the furniture were animal skins. A wild boar head was mounted to the wall above a fake fireplace, a stuffed bird sat on a table, and a Chihuahua sat up, his hind legs crossed and his front legs in the Zen position, meditating.

  I figured him to be taxidermied. Either that or he was one well-trained animal.

  "Casey, this is gross," I hissed as we made our way down a hallway looking for Martin's bedroom. It felt like we were invading his privacy, but I guessed it was really the best solution.

  "Don't look. We're just here to put them on the bed, and we'll leave."

  Casey used his hip to push open a door, and we saw a double bed. Bingo! Even if it wasn't bingo, we were putting Martin on this bed. I wasn't going any further.

  A chill ran up my spine as I felt a presence behind me. I dropped Martin and spun around. Lori was standing staring at us, her eyes dazed and unfocused. She shook her head then made her way further down the hall, slamming a door behind her.

  She was obviously unappreciative of the effort we had gone to.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The following morning, I found my lesson with Sebastian to be a breath of fresh air. He was bright, happy, and enthusiastic. He'd even been practicing jumping up onto his board on his hotel room floor. Bless him.

  Thankfully I still had Luke's car, as he was with Alani, so after the lesson, I headed straight home. Home was also to be our meeting place later today before we left for our forest walk.

  I pulled the car into the small driveway, got out, and locked the door behind me. Alani's car wasn't there yet, and we were picking Casey up on our way, so it looked like I'd be spending the next hour alone. It was as I was walking towards the back door that I realized I didn't have my house key with me. Crap! I'd spent last night at Casey's, and I'd accidentally left my keys there. I was using Luke's spare car key, so I knew his wasn't on the key ring either. Lucky we kept a spare in a fake rock hidden under the steps to the back deck.

  Crawling under the steps, my backside in the air, I found the rock and unscrewed it, grateful I didn't have to sit outside waiting for Luke to let me in. Only the rock was empty.

  Bloody Luke. I bet he'd used it and then broke the golden rule of not putting the key back where he found it. I sighed and wiggled back out. Lucky we had plan B.

  Mum knew us well, and for that reason, under the front steps was another fake rock, just like this one.

  Wiping the dirt from my knees, I walked through the garden to the front of the house, the scent of frangipani filling the morning air. Mum loved her garden and kept it beautiful. The white picket fence surrounding her small block of land was freshly painted, the lawn was mowed, and the edges were trimmed. And Luke and I did none of it. I had a moment of guilt as my feet sank into the lush green grass.

  Reaching the front steps, I did the same routine all over again. I wiggled myself under them looking for the fake rock, and retrieved the key.

  Sighing happily, I walked up the five steps to the top. And that was when I saw the huge bunch of flowers placed at the door.

  Wow, they were beautiful. Roses. Yellow roses. Fifteen of them, to be exact.

  Fifteen? That was a strange number, wasn't it?

  A card was attached. Carefully removing it from the bouquet, I read the envelope.

  Samantha!

  These were for me?

  My thoughts jumped to Casey. He must be showing me he truly loved me.

  My pulse raced with excitement as I used my finger to slice the envelope open. Another envelope was inside it, this time my name was scrawled across the front in very messy handwriting. Once again slicing the envelope open with my finger, I pulled the card from within and gave a secret squeal of joy.

  Until I read the words that were written.

  I'm watching—some word I couldn't make out—you! Followed by some other words I couldn't make out.

  What? Someone was watching me? My breath caught as the wind picked up and the front door creaked open.

  If the fight or flight thing hadn't kicked in, I probably would have passed out. Instead, I dropped the card and almost fell down the steps to the grass, not stopping until I was outside with the gate closed between me and the house.

  My eyes darted around the neighborhood, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

  Why was the door open? Was someone in there?

  I wasn't hanging around to find out. Instead I crossed the road and dialed Casey.

  "Hey, I'm just with Detective Ray at the moment. I'll call you back," he said. "Okay?"

  "No! Wait!" I quickly filled him in on the predicament I was in.

  "So you think so
meone is in there?" he asked.

  "Yes." Maybe. I didn't have any evidence other than the door swinging open, but I wasn't going in there alone.

  Silence filled the line. I then heard his muffled voice talking to Detective Ray. After a minute he came back to me. "Sit tight. We're on our way."

  As I sat there watching the house, butterflies filled my stomach, seemingly having a great time. Adrenaline pumped, and my hand shook as I pushed the phone back into my pocket. My thoughts jumped to who could have sent the flowers. Could it have been John? Would he have sent the flowers? I mean, he was impersonating someone else, and he had asked specifically for me when booking his lesson. But if it was him, how did he know where I lived?

  The card did say he was watching me, so maybe I'd been followed home from work. I shivered despite the hot morning sun.

  Our neighbor Mrs. Rhodes' canary whistled loudly in its cage. I normally liked the sound of it, but right now I wished it would shut up.

  Something crashed from inside the house. I jumped.

  Oh geez, Casey, hurry up, will you?

  I sat my backside on the ground and touched my chest where my heart was hammering, waiting.

  Within minutes one marked police car and one unmarked police car raced up the street, their lights flashing. The drivers hit the brakes and came to a stop on the road opposite me. Two officers got out of the marked car and drew their guns. Detective Ray and Casey got out of the unmarked car. Detective Ray issued orders for one of the officers to go around the back, and then he pulled a gun from a holster he had buckled around his waist and nodded that the remaining policeman should follow him.

  Casey came to me and pulled me in close. I could hear his heart beating loudly as he held me tight.

  As Detective Ray pushed our front door open, his gun raised, he quietly entered the house. The second officer followed him. It all felt very surreal watching these men enter my home, my safe place. I clung to Casey and held my breath.

  A high-pitched scream pierced the morning air, and I jumped as adrenaline was pumped into my bloodstream.

  What had he found? Who was in there?

  Not less than a minute later Detective Ray appeared on the threshold. "Samantha!" he bellowed.

  Geez, that sounded ominous.

  I gulped and allowed Casey to take my hand and almost pull me across the road and through the gate.

  "Y…yes," I stuttered, not wanting to walk up the steps.

  "Come with me," barked the detective.

  I squeezed Casey's hand, and sidestepped the flowers.

  The house felt eerie as I walked in. Foreign. Police officers with guns didn't belong in here. I gulped as I allowed Detective Ray to lead me towards the kitchen.

  There I found Mum sitting on a chair, white as a ghost, a dustpan containing a broken dinner plate sitting on the table beside her. The two uniformed officers had holstered their weapons and were now frowning as I approached.

  "Mum?" I couldn't believe it. She was supposed to be on holiday.

  "Yes," she snapped. "It's me. Do you care to tell me exactly what's going on?"

  "W-well…ummm…" How did I explain this without looking like an idiot? "Here's the thing…"

  * * *

  Thankfully Detective Ray was understanding. Until I asked if he was taking the flowers away as evidence, that was.

  "Evidence of what?" he asked.

  "Well, someone is watching me. And I think it's John."

  "John?"

  I filled him in on John.

  Casey tensed next to me. I'd forgotten I hadn't told him about John.

  "But John isn't really John?" the detective asked.

  "No, that's right."

  The detective frowned.

  "Sorry—correct. That's correct."

  "So who really is John?"

  "A balding guy who wanted a private lesson."

  "And this John didn't look like that?"

  "No. This John was in his twenties and had a very white chest. No visible chest hair that I could see."

  "Alright," said Ray, sighing.

  "So are you taking the flowers?"

  "No. Last time I checked it wasn't a crime to send someone flowers. However, I will speak to Juls Kekoa about who booked that lesson and why another man is impersonating him. I'm not sure what it will tell me, but I'll ask."

  He then signaled the two officers to leave and followed them out the door.

  Once they were gone, Mum turned on me.

  "I go away for less than one week, and look what happens!" she yelled.

  "Mum, calm down," I soothed, wringing my hands as I spoke. "Everything is going to be okay." I hoped. "What are you even doing home? You're not due for another couple of days."

  Mum smoothed her shirt, looking at the ground. "Yes, well, Rebecca and I had a disagreement."

  "That's not like you two. You normally agree about everything."

  "She was very unreasonable," Mum said, huffing.

  "What about?" I asked. I moved to the coffeepot and started to fill it. Casey gently pushed me aside and did the job for me.

  "What?" I quietly asked him.

  He grinned. "You make terrible coffee."

  "Well," continued Mum, ignoring Casey and me. "She thinks I should speak to your father."

  I spun at Mum's words. Our relationship with Dad was a complicated one. He hadn't been a part of my life since I was four. Recently he'd resurfaced in a not so good way. Even I wasn't sure if I wanted him back, and I'd spent my entire life wondering about him.

  "Why would she say that? Have you seen him?"

  "Not as such. But he has phoned the house asking if he could come around."

  He had? "You've never mentioned that."

  "No, well, I don't tell you everything."

  Hunph.

  "He's been speaking to Rebecca," Mum continued. "He wants to make contact with us all again but is unsure what the best way to go about it is."

  I moved to sit at the table and took Mum's hand. "How do you feel about that?"

  "I just don't know. It's been too long, and what he did hurt us. All three of us."

  She wasn't wrong there. "But what we didn't know was that he was trying to help us from the sidelines," I added in his defense.

  "And look how that turned out."

  "True." I sat for a minute contemplating the repercussions of having Dad back in our lives. "Just don't make a decision in haste," I advised wisely. "You may just regret it later."

  "What about you? You still have a choice to see him or not."

  I nodded. "I'll think about it too."

  "Good. We'll leave it at that for now then."

  Casey put a cup down in front of both Mum and me.

  "Mum, don't lose a good friend over him. Rebecca probably thinks she's doing what's best." When had I become so wise?

  She gave me a smug smile. "I'm proud of you, Samantha. You've grown into a beautiful woman. You jump to conclusions a bit too easily," she quickly added, "but you have a good heart."

  "Thanks." We sat in silence for a few minutes, unsure of what else to say. Casey disappeared through the house and came back with the flowers, a card in his fingers and a frown creasing his forehead.

  "Sam, this is the note that came with the flowers, right?" he asked, showing me what he held.

  I took it from him, noticing my hand slightly shaking.

  "Yep. That's it."

  "What's this bit say?" he asked, pointing to the word between the watching and the you. I had noticed it earlier, but I was too freaked out to pay it much attention. "And this bit? I can't make it out."

  "I don't know. I couldn't work it out either."

  "Let me see," said Mum, holding out her hand to me.

  Accepting the note, she studied it for a moment. "That's two words," she said tapping the card it was written on. "Is that an O? And this word here—is that ever…every… Geez, whoever wrote this has very bad writing."

  Casey peered over her shoulder. "It could b
e everything, but honestly it just looks like a lot of loops to me." It did to me too. "What do you want to do with the flowers?" he asked, still holding them in his left hand.

  I didn't know. They were too beautiful to throw away but too creepy to keep.

  "Eleanor next door loves flowers," said Mum. "You could give them to her."

  That was a great idea. I could also ask her if she saw who delivered them.

  * * *

  At the ripe old age of seventy-six, Eleanor Rhodes was a cute little bundle of softness. One look at her and you just wanted to hug her. She was Hawaiian-born but had Irish heritage. She looked after her garden, kept her house clean, and listened to opera. Last year, at the age of seventy-seven, her husband decided he'd had enough of life with Eleanor and ran off with a younger woman. Mum had told me the younger woman was sixty-eight. I guessed it was all a matter of perspective.

  Nevertheless, Mrs. Rhodes still got up every morning, baked a cake, and decorated it with whatever took her fancy that day. She loved cake decorating. Problem was she didn't eat cake, and since the husband had left, she had an overflow. Mum, Luke, and I were often the recipients. Not that I was complaining. I loved her cake. Mr. Rhodes' new girlfriend must have been pretty good at something for him to give up Mrs. Rhodes' cakes.

  Today her cake was decorated with pink butter frosting and topped with white daisies. It was so pretty it was almost a shame to cut it. Almost.

  She put a slice on my plate and gave a contented sigh. Usually she handed the uncut cake over the fence. To have someone sit in her dining room and eat it was a treat for her.

  "Thank you, Mrs. Rhodes. But you really didn't need to go to any trouble." I picked up the fork and cut off a piece, promptly putting it into my mouth before she could change her mind.

  "It's no trouble, Samantha. It's just a way of saying thank you for the flowers. They are so beautiful."

  The flowers were now in a vase in the center of the table where we sat. I had explained how I got them, but she hadn't seemed fazed by it.

  "You know roses have a meaning," she said.

  "In what way?"

  "Well, how many you get and what color depicts the sender's intentions."