Page 34 of The Mermaid Murder

“Yeah. I’ll talk to them, see if they’ve noticed anything odd at work.” I leaned my head onto his shoulder. “But our top priority is to locate Misty. I don’t like not knowing for sure she’s okay.”

“I agree,” he said. “And Christy said she’d make a few calls. I bet she’ll have something for us by morning.”

His logic and his… wonderfulness eased the tension from my mind as surely as the hot water was easing it from my body. This was nice, I decided. The hot water, the garden’s floral perfume, and Mason so close and so attentive. The man adored me.

He pulled me closer, bending his head for a soft kiss, then settling himself lower on the seat, so the water covered his shoulders.

It was a beautiful night.

Until my cellphone pinged. I reached for it with a wet hand.

Christy: Check this Out.

There was a link called Zig Tales, with a preview showing.

Frowning, I tapped. Mason was close enough to see everything I did. Zig Tales, it turned out, was a podcast. There were two seasons. Season 1: Dog Gone. 10 Episodes. Its thumbnail had a cover-model Yorkie with “SOLVED” stamped across its shaggy Ewok face. And then where was Season 2, where the thumbnail was a brunette mermaid with a tail that was powder blue at the waist, darkening gradually to darkest blue at the tail. The tail fin and “scales” were edged in silver that caught the light. Her long, dark curls trailed behind her in the water. She wasn’t facing the camera but gazing ahead with an unnamed yearning in her eyes.

“‘The Missing Mermaid’.” Mason read the title like he couldn’t believe it.

“That’s her.” My words emerged in a croak. “That’s the mermaid from my vision.” In my mind’s eye, I saw her again, sinking to the bottom of that pool like a leaf floating from an autumn tree. Her hair had trailed upward as she’d fallen, and so had the trickle of blood from her head.

“Are you sure?” He took the phone from my hand, probably because he knew I was going to drop it into the hot tub if he didn’t. His arm was around my shoulders, and he was watching my face with a look in his eyes that said “I’m worried” and “I’ve got you” and “I love you” all at once.

“I’m sure. And that means she’s real. That means it was a real ride-along. And that means… the mermaid is probably dead.”

He closed his eyes slowly, then frowned and tapped the phone back to Messages when a new one popped up.

Christy: Zig is Misty’s roommate.

My brain finally made the connection that had been sparking since I’d seen the name. I snatched the phone back from Mason.

Rachel: Right! Karen Ziglar, the aspiring mystery writer.

Christy: Mystery podcaster. The future is digital, Aunt Rache. She started it last year. Remember Misty telling us about it?

Rachel: I do now.

Christy: Listen to the second season. There are only three episodes. Text me after.

Rachel: They’re long. We’ll text you in the morning.

Christy: After. Also, just so you know, I’ve filled Jere in on all this.

I hesitated, met Mason’s eyes.

Rachel: You’re worried too?

Christy: You had a mermaid dream or vision or something. Her roomie is investigating a missing mermaid. Yes. I’m worried.

Rachel: I should text your mom.

Christy: Not THAT worried. Don’t terrify her until there’s a reason. Misty said she’d only be gone through the weekend.

I sighed. Mason said, “There’s nothing we can do tonight, I think. In the morning, I’ll visit the local PD. Talk to the detective in charge of the case.”

I nodded and texted.

Rachel: Mason will visit PD tomorrow. Let us know if you hear anything more.

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