Still Waters. Heather Graham

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rolled his eyes, starting off ahead of her. “Why does she do that to me?” he demanded.

      “Because you tend to be completely paranoid, and you’re on her tail like a bloodhound most of the time,” Beth told him, following him through the brush, pushing palm fronds out of her way.

      “Right, and you’re not being just a little bit paranoid?”

      “Ben, I honestly think we found a skull. I’m worried with reason. If you make Amber crazy enough, then you’ll have reason to worry, too.”

      “You wait ’til you have kids,” he warned her, stopping and turning back to her. “She’s everything I’ve got,” he said softly.

      Beth nodded. “So let go a little bit.”

      “She’s only fourteen.”

      “Just a little bit. Then she’ll come back to you and tell you all the wild stuff going on with her friends. You’ve got to let her live a little.”

      He nodded, serious then.

      They reached the clearing. It was empty.

      “Okay, I don’t see any guy.”

      “I hardly thought he would just stand around waiting,” Beth said.

      “All right, then. Where’s the skull?”

      “Right here... I pushed a palm frond over it.”

      She walked over to where they had been. Tentatively, she moved away the fallen debris.

      There was nothing there. Nothing at all. It didn’t even look as if the earth had been disturbed. “I...” She looked at her brother. He was staring at her with skepticism. “Damn it, Ben, the girls saw it, too!”

      “So where is it?”

      “I don’t know!” She stared around the clearing. There was plenty of debris about; area storms could be fierce, blowing hard against fragile palms and pines.

      But though she kicked up every inch of the clearing, dragging away every palm frond and branch she could see, there was no sign of anything that so much as resembled a skull.

      Then...

      “Aha!” she cried, and dug, only to dig up a conch shell.

      “There’s your skull,” Ben said.

      “No, this isn’t it. Ben, I’m telling you, I saw a skull. And I didn’t dig it up while the kids were here because it looked like there was still hair attached, even rotting flesh.”

      “Come on, Beth. You’re too into CSI and Autopsy one-two-three-four-and-up-to-fifty-or-a-hundred-or-whatever-it-is-now. I’m heading back to the campsite.”

      “Ben!”

      “What?” he demanded, turning back to stare at her.

      “I’m telling you, there was a skull. And then there was that guy—”

      “You know what, Beth? I’m a guy, a lawyer, and yes, I tend to be a little nervous because I know the kinds of people who are out there in the world. Hell, I have a gun, and I know how to use it. But think about it, Beth. You just saw the guy a few minutes ago. And what you thought was a skull had to be down to the bone.”

      “Not completely,” she murmured, feeling a little ill.

      “Beth,” Ben argued, “how could a guy who just got here be responsible for a skull that may or may not exist, and, if so, is almost down to the bone? I am not going to ruin this weekend with my daughter and her friend, so please...”

      She stood up, dusting off her hands again, lips pursed. She nodded. “I know it’s the weekend. I know that it’s bond-with-your-daughter time. Yes, we’ll have a good time. I promise.”

      He started back along the trail to the beach.

      Beth hesitated. She felt night coming, felt the breeze whispering through her hair.

      Could she have been mistaken?

      No!

      Damn it! She had seen it, and it had been a skull. A human skull. So where the hell was it now?

      A chill settled over her.

      Had he taken it?

      Was the skull the reason he had come to the island?

      The palm fronds around her began to whisper. She turned quickly toward the trail. “Ben?”

      Her brother didn’t reply.

      She glanced around quickly, then called out again, “Ben! Wait for me!”

      With those words on her lips, she raced after him, clinging to the words he had said to her.

      I have a gun, and I know how to use it.

      But did he have it with him?

      And what if the other guy had a gun and knew how to use it, too?

       2

      “There’s your guy,” Ben said as they walked back onto the beach. He pointed down a stretch of sand.

      And indeed, there he was. Along with two other men, one dark and Hispanic looking, the other a blazing redhead, he was securing a large tent pole in the sand. They had respected the silent privacy rule all boaters who used the island obeyed, staking out their territory a distance away from anyone else. From where they stood, Beth couldn’t make out the expressions of any of the men.

      The redhead stopped working, however, elbowed Keith, pointed toward them, then waved.

      Ben waved in return.

      “You’re not waving to your new hottie,” Ben teased.

      “He’s not my anything,” Beth retorted.

      “The girls were impressed.”

      “The girls are young and impressionable,” she snapped.

      Her brother looked at her quizzically. “What is the matter with you?”

      “Nothing. It’s just that, no matter what, I know I saw a skull.”

      “Which we couldn’t find.”

      “No,” she admitted. “But I’m telling you, there was something there. That guy was there, too. And now the thing isn’t there, and the same guy is on the beach!”

      “I can walk over and ask him if he just dug up a skull,” Ben said.

      She glared at him. “And if he did, he’s just going to say yes?”

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