Page 34 of Ensnaring the Siren

B-roll of the docks switched over to a blurry photo of him and Nireed loitering outside the warehouse side entrance. Neither of their faces were visible, but their clothing was certainly identifiable. Nondescript, but identifiable.

Reid quickly shucked off his rain jacket. It was a dime-a-dozen charcoal gray color, but he didn’t need anyone making associations, and the green T-shirt he wore underneath felt comfortingly dissimilar.

Next, an interview clip played, featuring the two forklift operators. One had a nasty purple bump on his head, but otherwise appeared fine—eager for his fifteen seconds of limelight even. Reid couldn’t hear what he was saying over the bar’s live music, but there was closed captioning:

Carl: She must’ve been a softball player or something. Hit me square in the head with a can of tuna.

Reporter: Did you feel like your life was in danger at any point?

Carl: Nah. They just ran out of there. Didn’t even look like they took anything.

Paul: Maybe they were investigative journalists?

Reporter: …

Carl: …

Paul: …

Reporter: What would they have been investigating?

Paul: Uh.

They had no fucking clue. Thank Christ.

Relieved, Reid turned back to his friends, but they were both staring at him hard.

Hatcher pointed at the TV. “What the fuck’s going on? Who was that woman we just met, and why are you both on the evening news?”

“Keep your voice down,” Reid hissed. “Nireed’s a…”

“Journalist? Environmental activist?” Perez supplied. Her tone was light, but she didn’t look happy.

“No. She’s the mermaid I’ve been running into.”

“Jesus Fuck, man!” Hatcher whisper-yelled. “What are you thinking? You trying to get masted? Kicked out of the Coast Guard?”

“For once, I agree with him.” Perez jutted her thumb at Hatcher. “If they can kick us out for smoking weed, they’d sure as shit kick you out for breaking and entering.”

“She’s desperate. Her people are dying, and she’s trying to prove it before more are killed.”

Hatcher folded his arms. “Okay, but why are you mixed up in this?”

Great fucking question. “I don’t know.” He shoved his hands into his hair. “I guess I thought I could keep her out of trouble. And I genuinely want to help, just don’t know how. I’m not CGIS. I’m not command. Just a rescue swimmer.”

Perez sighed, pinching her brow. “You’re an idiot. But a noble idiot. I hope it goes without saying, but you can’t do something like this again. You’re going to have to be way more subtle going forward.”

“Going forward? Don’t you mean ‘drop this altogether’ before he makes it worse?” Hatcher side-eyed Perez. To Reid, he added, “Nireed’s not your responsibility. Even if she’s telling the truth. Or thinks she is.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Perez waggled a finger. “A corporate company murdering people is not something to turn a blind eye to.”

“Allegedly murdering.”

“God, you’re insufferable. Yes, fine. Allegedly. But my point remains.”

“Look, I’d say that about anyone who convinced a friend to commit a crime. It’s not just because of what she is, although that freaks me out too. Also, are we not going to talk about how mermaids can just sprout legs and walk on land?”

“How obvious is it?” Reid interjected. All things considered, his friends seemed to be handling the news relatively well, but he wouldn’t get that kind of grace elsewhere. “Will command put two and two together?”

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