Page 35
Story: Beach Reads and Deadly Deeds
Now I knew exactly what authors meant byblood-curdling.
Jason set a brisk pace down the main path, never letting go of my hand. We turned left before we were halfway back to the lodge. He knew the island better than I did, but this path wasn’t well lit. No pretty white lights wrapped around tree trunks, just a few lights embedded along a narrow stone path.
A minute later, we were on the beach, close to where the water rolled into the inlet we’d just left. Giant boulders separated us from the cavern.
At first, I didn’t see anyone, though I heard sobs. Jason pulled me close to his side as we approached the shoreline, and that’s when I saw the newlyweds huddled together in the sand. Had they seen a shark? Were there sharks here? Maybe a jellyfish, or the carcass of a swordfish that rolled up with the surf.
“Mr. Kent, what happened?” Jason asked.
Mrs. Kent was sobbing, and Mr. Kent pointed toward the rocks.
“I don’t see anything,” I whispered.
Still holding hands, we walked carefully toward the rocks. The waves came in, went out. In, out. Gentle and constant. Seaweed dotted the wet sand, but nothing out of the ordinary. Then the waves rolled out, revealing a large pile of kelp. I saw something twisted inside the kelp. A large fish? Maybe garbage, or debris, or... I gasped when I thought I saw a hand.
It couldn’t be a hand.
The waves rolled over the mass, went out again, and then I stifled a scream.
“Ohmigod, Jason,” I said, my voice squeaky.
Itwasa hand. And the hand was attached to a body.
“Stay here,” Jason said.
I didn’t. I followed him as he stepped closer to the pile.
Kelp wrapped around the body so thickly I almost couldn’t tell if it was male or female, but the hand was elegant, the chipped nails polished a bright pink. Each time the waves came in, they pushed her body an inch up the shore. When they rolled out, they took her body half an inch back. The rhythm was grotesquely hypnotic.
The tide had dumped her here. She wore a long sundress, but I couldn’t tell what color it might have been. A scarf was wrapped around her neck. Slowly, Jason and I walked around the body, keeping several feet away. Her eyes were open and opaque, her mouth a loose O shape, her body bloated, skin mottled.
I’d read enough crime novels to know she’d been in the water for more than twenty-four hours.
“Oh, shit,” Jason whispered. “That’s Diana Harden, our missing guest.”
Before we could go to the lodge to find help, Gino Garmon and three security officers approached. They must have heard the scream as well. Gino took one look at the body and swore, then said, “Jason, take the guests back to the lodge. Tell Tristanwhat happened and ask him to contact the St. John police chief. We’ll stay with the body.”
Jason didn’t move. He was still staring at the body.
“Now, Jason,” Gino commanded.
Then he noticed me. “Ms. Crawford.” He looked down, saw I was wearing only underwear and my T-shirt didn’t quite cover my ass. I had lost my embarrassment with Jason. Now I found it again, but was too shocked at our discovery to blush.
“Jason,” I said quietly. “We need to go. Let them take care of her. Call the police.”
“Yeah. Right. Okay. Thanks, Gino.”
We went over to the newlyweds. Mrs. Kent was still sobbing. “Let’s go,” I said to her. “We need to contact the authorities, and they’ll secure the crime scene.”
I almost laughed at myself. I sounded like a detective from my favorite police procedural.
Mr. Kent helped his wife up. Okay, I know seeing a dead body is shocking—this was my first in-real-life dead body, too—but this woman’s near paralysis was a bit much.
“She’s dead! Who is she? Ohmigod!” Mrs. Kent whirled around and clutched Jason. “Is thather? The missing woman?”
He nodded.
“What happened?”
Jason set a brisk pace down the main path, never letting go of my hand. We turned left before we were halfway back to the lodge. He knew the island better than I did, but this path wasn’t well lit. No pretty white lights wrapped around tree trunks, just a few lights embedded along a narrow stone path.
A minute later, we were on the beach, close to where the water rolled into the inlet we’d just left. Giant boulders separated us from the cavern.
At first, I didn’t see anyone, though I heard sobs. Jason pulled me close to his side as we approached the shoreline, and that’s when I saw the newlyweds huddled together in the sand. Had they seen a shark? Were there sharks here? Maybe a jellyfish, or the carcass of a swordfish that rolled up with the surf.
“Mr. Kent, what happened?” Jason asked.
Mrs. Kent was sobbing, and Mr. Kent pointed toward the rocks.
“I don’t see anything,” I whispered.
Still holding hands, we walked carefully toward the rocks. The waves came in, went out. In, out. Gentle and constant. Seaweed dotted the wet sand, but nothing out of the ordinary. Then the waves rolled out, revealing a large pile of kelp. I saw something twisted inside the kelp. A large fish? Maybe garbage, or debris, or... I gasped when I thought I saw a hand.
It couldn’t be a hand.
The waves rolled over the mass, went out again, and then I stifled a scream.
“Ohmigod, Jason,” I said, my voice squeaky.
Itwasa hand. And the hand was attached to a body.
“Stay here,” Jason said.
I didn’t. I followed him as he stepped closer to the pile.
Kelp wrapped around the body so thickly I almost couldn’t tell if it was male or female, but the hand was elegant, the chipped nails polished a bright pink. Each time the waves came in, they pushed her body an inch up the shore. When they rolled out, they took her body half an inch back. The rhythm was grotesquely hypnotic.
The tide had dumped her here. She wore a long sundress, but I couldn’t tell what color it might have been. A scarf was wrapped around her neck. Slowly, Jason and I walked around the body, keeping several feet away. Her eyes were open and opaque, her mouth a loose O shape, her body bloated, skin mottled.
I’d read enough crime novels to know she’d been in the water for more than twenty-four hours.
“Oh, shit,” Jason whispered. “That’s Diana Harden, our missing guest.”
Before we could go to the lodge to find help, Gino Garmon and three security officers approached. They must have heard the scream as well. Gino took one look at the body and swore, then said, “Jason, take the guests back to the lodge. Tell Tristanwhat happened and ask him to contact the St. John police chief. We’ll stay with the body.”
Jason didn’t move. He was still staring at the body.
“Now, Jason,” Gino commanded.
Then he noticed me. “Ms. Crawford.” He looked down, saw I was wearing only underwear and my T-shirt didn’t quite cover my ass. I had lost my embarrassment with Jason. Now I found it again, but was too shocked at our discovery to blush.
“Jason,” I said quietly. “We need to go. Let them take care of her. Call the police.”
“Yeah. Right. Okay. Thanks, Gino.”
We went over to the newlyweds. Mrs. Kent was still sobbing. “Let’s go,” I said to her. “We need to contact the authorities, and they’ll secure the crime scene.”
I almost laughed at myself. I sounded like a detective from my favorite police procedural.
Mr. Kent helped his wife up. Okay, I know seeing a dead body is shocking—this was my first in-real-life dead body, too—but this woman’s near paralysis was a bit much.
“She’s dead! Who is she? Ohmigod!” Mrs. Kent whirled around and clutched Jason. “Is thather? The missing woman?”
He nodded.
“What happened?”
Table of Contents
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