* * * * *
It was freezing inside the beat-up Camry, but at least they were out of the wind. Abby was amazed to see that much of the car was stuck together with duct tape. The hinge attached to the front passenger’s door was completely caked with the stuff, and there was a one-inch wedge of frosty air where the same door’s window should meet the frame. She tried to crank the window up, but Brian said not to bother. The thing had been broken since the car was his dad’s, and it wasn’t about to start working now. So she huddled in her seat, shivering beneath Brian’s coat while raking her mind for some sort of plan.
“You’re freezing,” said Brian. He started up the engine but made no attempt to shift into drive. Abby was surprised by the way the car jolted to life. From the outside, it looked like it would be at home in the dump. “I thought the cold didn’t bother you. You swim without anything on.”
“That’s different,” said Abby, staring down at her hands. The tips of her fingers glowed white as a corpse. “When I’m—” she faltered.
“A mermaid?”
“Right. When I’m like that, the cold doesn’t bother me at all. I become sort of cold-blooded. You know, like how a reptile adjusts its body temperature to fit its environment.”
“Yeah, I took bio too.”
“Sorry, I was just trying to explain.”
“So you’re a reptile?” said Brian.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“But you are cold-blooded.”
“Look, what’s wrong with you?” Abby was so overwhelmed by the anger charging through her that she grabbed her own hands so she wouldn’t smack him in the face.
“What’s wrong with me?” said Brian, leaning in close. “What’s wrong is that you’re a fish! A fish who might be involved in a murder!”
“That’s it, I’m leaving.”
“No Abby, wait!” He grabbed her sleeve, tugging hard.
“You can have it back!” spat Abby, trying to tear off the coat. But the zipper jammed, and all she got out was her arm. She knew she couldn’t run down the beach like that. If he wanted, he’d catch her in under a minute.
“Oh, come on,” said Brian. “Hold on for a second. Listen, I get it if you want to go, but you don’t have to give me the coat, okay? None of this is coming out right.”
“No, it’s not,” said Abby, but she didn’t run. There was something about him that drew her in. She knew she needed to hear him out.
“I’m sorry,” said Brian, releasing her sleeve. “I’m just trying to get my mind around all of this.” He glanced over at Abby and cranked up the heat. “Jesus, your teeth are chattering.”
“I don’t like the cold,” said Abby, hunching down in her seat. “It’s the worst part of the whole thing— getting out of the water and changing back.”
The wind was beginning to rev up again. They stopped talking and listened to it howl. Neither of them was sure what to say.
Finally, Abby asked the question. There was no way around it; she had to know. “Are you going to tell?” she whispered, her chest going tight as she waited for him to respond.
“Tell what?” said Brian. “That you’re a fish?”
Abby scowled.
“Actually, I’m not. Everyone would think I was totally nuts. Unless you want me to throw a bucket of water on you. I guess that’d be one way to get it out.” He paused and reached over like he might touch her cheek, but his hand froze in mid-air and dropped into his lap.
“What were you doing out there, changing during the day? You must have known you might get caught.”
“I wasn’t thinking,” she whispered. “I just had to go in. Besides, I hadn’t planned on coming out until after dark.
Silence. Brian stared out past the dunes as if searching for something. Abby wished she knew what.
“I hate to say this,” said Brian, turning to her, “but I’m worried about the police. A girl was murdered. Her foot washed up on the beach. They’ll figure it out. They always do.”
“Didn’t you hear?” whispered Abby, her stomach aching again. “They think another girl’s missing too. Someone from my mom’s cooking class.”
“Do you know her?” asked Brian, looking surprised.
“Not personally. They haven’t found her body or anything, unless the foot that washed up belongs to her. Only, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t. Maybe she just ran away.”
“You don’t really think that,” said Brian.
“I don’t know what to think anymore.” They were quiet then, listening to the waves, which were growing louder as they spoke.
“Do you think I should to go to the police?” whispered Abby. “Because I’m really not sure how I can. I mean, how do I explain what I was doing in the water? What am I supposed to say about that?”
“I didn’t say I thought you should tell them,” said Brian. “All I said was that they’re gonna find out. You don’t know the chief; you don’t know what he’s like. But he’ll figure it out. He always does.”
“That’s right, I forgot. He’s your stepdad, right?”
Brian winced and turned away. She could tell he didn’t want to talk about it.
They sat in silence for a while, as the light behind the windshield continued to fade. It was Brian who finally spoke. “You aren’t going to tell them, are you?” he asked. The way he said it, made it sound like a fact.
“I don’t see how I can.”
Brian clenched his jaw like he was in pain, then shifted the Camry into gear and pulled onto the rain slicked street.
They drove almost the entire way in silence. Each time they spoke, it was only so Abby could give Brian directions. When they finally arrived at Abby’s house, Jake’s pickup glowered beneath the carport, and all the lights in the kitchen were on.
They’re worried, thought Abby. They’re probably pissed. You’d better find out what he’s going to do.
“Brian,” said Abby, barely able to breathe. Her voice creaked when she said his name, like she hadn’t spoken in over a year. “Brian are you going to tell the cops?”
He looked away. “Brian?” she said. His name felt strange on her tongue. She wasn’t sure if she liked it or not.
“No,” he whispered, his eyes grazing her skin. “No, I don’t think I can.”
Abby watched as he walked to her side of the car, opened the door, and helped her out. His hand was so warm around her own that she didn’t want him to ever let go.
“You didn’t have to do that,” said Abby. Brian shrugged.
“Keep the coat. I’ll pick it up another time.”
“Thanks,” she said, grabbing her clothes from the back, then cramming her feet into her boots. She was relieved to find that they were still dry.
Abby watched Brian get into the rusted out Camry and pull it back onto the road. And then he was gone, erased by the night, and she was standing alone in the well-lit driveway, dreading what awaited her when she went inside.
Black Waters (Book 1 in the Songstress Trilogy) Page 10