Page 79 of The Mermaid Murder

She felt around for a trunk release. Some cars had them, but she figured Jen Scott would know whether hers did. She’d been driving an ancient Bronco that day she’d come to the club. This was a different vehicle.

She didn’t expect to find a release, and she didn’t. But she knew the deal. She’d had a cop for an uncle since she was sixteen. So she started poking around the edges of the carpet that lined the trunk, finding a corner she could pry back and working on that. Everyone knew to punch out a taillight and stick out your hand.

The damn carpet wasn’t coming up easily. She suddenly wished she had that stupid tool thing her mom had sent her.

Mom. God, she’d been so proud of those damn things. Tears came when she thought of her mother, and she closed her eyes and immediately saw Christy, holding her ugly metal mermaid in her hand.

It made her slide her hand into her jacket pocket, where it closed around her own silly metal mermaid. Hell, she’d forgotten putting it there. And for some reason she pulled it out and draped its chain around her neck.

Something felt wrong and she whispered. “Are you okay, Sis?”

The carpet she was pulling at came loose so fast she fell backward and banged her head. She rubbed the spot and sucked air through her teeth. When she could move again, she felt around for the taillight, but there was a whole metal cup that held it, and a bunch of wires coming out the back. She started trying to feel around the edges of the metal thingy, and then she gave up and just started shoving it. She wished she could kick it out, but she didn’t think there was room in the trunk to turn around. She was already feeling a little claustrophobic and if she got stuck halfway, she’d lose it for sure.

The car hit a bump and her body bounced right off the floor and smashed into the lid. Shit, they’d gone off-road. And they were still moving, bounding and bouncing like mad.

She turned toward the one area she hadn’t explored, the part that separated the trunk from back seat. And then she turned sideways, in spite of it being cramped as hell, she kicked with both feet and all her strength.

The seat shot forward, and she scrambled into the car. Then as Jen turned around and saw her, she moved as far to the passenger side as she could. Jen reached back for her, one hand on the wheel while the car veered wildly. Misty had to jam her hand between the tipped over seat-back and the door to get hold of its handle.

Locked. She unlocked it manually. Jen caught a handful of her long hair, but Misty got the door open, and kicked Jen in the face to propel herself out of the car. The ground hit her as hard as those stairs had, all the way down, and her body tumbled in much the same way. She had no control. She just rolled until she didn’t.

The car skidded to a stop ahead. It was pitch dark. They were in a field. Misty pushed herself to her feet but stayed low and moved silently, scanning her surroundings in search of a place to hide. There was a sound. Rushing water.

“Come back here, Goddamn you!” Jen Scott shouted. Her voice echoed in the vast darkness.

Noise was good, Misty thought. The sound of the water would cover any sound she made. So she headed for it. It led her to the road, or rather to the culvert that went underneath the road. The field ended in an upward slope to the road, with a big round tunnel bored through it. Lined in concrete, the culvert allowed water to run beneath the road. It wasn’t much water just then, a skinny strand a couple of inches deep. The tunnel was big enough for a cow to pass through.

Jen was tramping through the field, swinging a flashlight, and Misty ducked into the tall grasses and weeds.

She thought it would make sense to head for the road and try to find help. But she knew that was the most obvious move she could make. So instead, she decided to cross the road through the culvert and see what was on the other side.

Misty stepped into the water, and then entered the darkest dark of her entire life.

* * *

RACHEL

The whole way, panic had been wrapping its adrenaline fingers around my heart. I kept forgetting to breathe, and then suddenly gasping like a suffocating fish. I saw the looks the state cop kept sending Mason. So did Mason, but he was pretending not to.

Finally, the vehicle bounded into the driveway of the club and skidded sideways near the front entrance.

I grabbed my door handle and yanked it so hard I about broke my damn hand. Locked. “Fucking open the goddamn?—”

Mason was out and yanking the door open before the trooper even got his siren turned off. Then he lunged to the club’s front entrance and got there before me. I expected him to kick it in, but he just opened it. Unlocked.

We ran inside and stopped, looking around. The curtain was raised. And something was moving inside the dark aquarium. “It’s Christy!” I knew it in my heart, I didn’t need to see her.

We ran to the tank, but it was too dark. Oddly dark. Something was in the back, near those fake flowers. I knew two things instantly. “Christy’s in the tank! Mason, the cover is closed!”

Mason raced to the stair door, grabbing the trooper by the arm on the way. I heard them thunder up the stairs, heard them shouting.

The tank lights came on.

Christy had been sucking at one of the flowers that spouted oxygen, but she spotted me and swam to the glass, pressing her hands to it, shaking her head no.

“Mason!” I screamed.

“Trying! The motor’s gone!”

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