Page 29 of The Girls in the Lake
It was Beth’s turn to sigh. ‘It’s a bit of a coincidence though, isn’t it?’
Another call came through; he looked at the number and felt even worse. ‘Beth, I have another caller on the line. Sorry, I’ll have to go. See you later.’
Beth ended the call from her end, not even questioning who it was calling, and he knew she was pissed off with him. He’d make it up to her.
‘Josh, sorry to bother you, it’s Jodie. Do you think you could pick me up when you have the time? I’ve told them you’re going to be checking in on me and they said I could come home.’
‘Of course, I’ll be there as soon as I can.’
He ended the call and finished his shop, piling all sorts of food into the trolley. If she didn’t like it, she could always donate it to the food bank.
Thirty-Three
Beth parked her car. It was later than she’d hoped and much darker. The marina was lit up well though, which was some comfort on this rainy night. As droplets pounded the windscreen of her car, she wondered if she should shelve this crazy idea, wait until tomorrow or at least when it was daylight.What would Scarpetta do?she asked herself silently. Kay Scarpetta was a fictional forensic pathologist Beth loved to read about, and a bloody good one. Scarpetta wouldn’t wimp out at a bit of rain.
Throwing open the car door, she got out and was immediately blown to one side by a strong gust of wind. She grabbed the evidence sample kit and pushed it deep into her coat pocket. Tugging on a woollen hat and zipping her coat up to her chin, she walked into the wind towards the water’s edge hoping the boat was still there.
As she got onto the lakeside she sawThe Tequila Sunrisebobbing in the water with a light on below deck. The lake was choppy and the moored boats were lurching with the force of the wind and the water. Behind her, even the pub was closed – not much cause for business in weather like this. She felt a chill just looking into the inky waters of the lake. Hurrying to get to the boat, her head bent against the driving rain, she almost ran straight into the sodden, bedraggled man. A small scream escaped her lips. ‘Oh, gosh. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.’
He grunted a reply at her, then pushed past her walking away from the marina towards the car park. The pungent smell of damp clothes that haven’t been washed in forever assaulted her nostrils. She turned to look at him once more, catching the sight of the back of him as he disappeared. He didn’t look as if he owned a boat. Christ, he didn’t look as if he owned a tent. She couldn’t help wondering who he was and what he was doing down here. She’d mention it to Josh, see if he knew who he was and why he’d be down here in this weather. For a moment she felt awful, judgemental. Would she have questioned him being down here if he’d been smelling of expensive aftershave and wearing a Berghaus jacket? She knew that she wouldn’t, nobody would. She turned back towards the boats, her racing heart beginning to slow down. Whoever he was he’d given her a fright.
The metal jetties that ran between the rows of boats were slick with rain. She was going to have to tread carefully or she could slip and end up in the water. The very thought gave her palpitations, her nightmares and memories of the last time she’d ended up in it fighting their way to break out of the box she’d hidden them in. She shook her head – this was different; she was here to do a job, someone had to find out what had happened to those two women. She knew that Josh was only doing his job as well by playing it safe, waiting for sufficient evidence and not taking it any further. There wasn’t enough evidence to suggest any foul play, but it didn’t mean that there wasn’t.
Carefully she stepped down onto the jetty and walked towards the boat. It rocked under the weight of her, but she forced herself to carry on. It would only take a moment to get a sample and she could be back in the car with the heating on. When she reached the boat she realised it was a little further away from the jetty than she’d realised. Taking out a torch, she shone it at the side of the boat, to see if there was anywhere she could reach to scrape a good sample. And then it struck her: the boat wasn’t wood, it was fibreglass. The paint chip couldn’t have come from it. Her heart sank; she had been so sure she was onto something. She stood on the edge of the jetty, her arms folded across her chest, feet apart trying to keep herself from being blown into the water as she looked around at the other boats nearby. They were all fibreglass, varnish or sleek white plastic. She felt all determination drain away from her. Where did those flakes of paint come from?
As she turned to walk back to the safety of the lakeside, she saw movement from behindThe Tequila Sunrise. She peered round the boat to see a small wooden rowing boat tethered to a buoy not too far away from it. It was a dark colour; the paint flakes had been dark. Shining her torch around, she couldn’t see any others that were similar in this part of the marina.
Walking to the very end of the jetty she wondered how she was going to get to it and realised there was a ladder on the side of the bigger boat in front of her. If she got onto that one, she could climb down the ladder to reach the rowing boat, get her sample and then go home for a hot shower and huge glass of wine. All she had to do was to get onto the boat. It was simple, but she was so cold now it was hard to feel her fingers. She knew she should come back tomorrow when the sun was up and the rain had passed, but what if the rowboat had gone? Before she could talk herself out of it, she was leaning over and climbing up the ladder on the side of the large boat closest to it. Safely on deck, she breathed out a sigh of relief that she hadn’t slipped and gone into the water. Now all she had to do was to climb down the other side of the boat, lean over and scrape a bit of paint off and get the hell back to her car. It was reckless and dangerous, she knew, yet here she was about to ignore all her own advice and carry on.
She took the small, plastic pot out of her pocket and unscrewed the lid. If she climbed down and leant across all she had to do was to scrape it along the side of the boat. Hopefully, she’d get a big enough sample of the paint to send off to the lab for a comparison. Hanging onto the metal ladder with one hand in an iron grip, she reached out as far as she could and ran the small pot against the dinghy.
‘What the fuck are you doing?’
The voice was loud and angry, distorted in the wind. Cold fear filled her insides.
‘Get up here now, you’re going to kill yourself.’
Beth pulled herself up, trying to push the sample pot into her pocket. ‘Sorry, I’m coming up now.’
A strong gust of wind blew her off balance and she felt her grip loosen on the slippery metal rung she’d been clinging on to. A scream escaped her lips as she fell, clawing to get a hold of the ladder, but her fingers were too cold and the metal was too wet. She fell towards the water and was plunged into the black depths of the lake. It was beyond freezing. So cold it took her breath away and choked her scream. Her arms and legs splashed wildly, propelling herself back to the surface, but her heavy coat dragged her back down.
For a moment she wondered if she was going to die. Then a strong hand gripped the back of her coat and she felt herself being pulled up above the water. One more heave and she was by the ladder again.
‘You have to hold on, I can’t lift you any higher,’ the voice bellowed at her. She did as she was told, her teeth chattering. The man rearranged his grip and dragged her up as far as he could. She did her best to climb back up but her limbs were numb and useless. When she was almost near the top, he put his arms under her armpits and pulled her onto the deck. She stared up in shock at the face staring down at her.
‘You bloody idiot, you could have drowned. Do you know how dangerous it is? If I hadn’t come out on deck…’ He ran his hands through his dripping hair.
Beth was panting for every breath, the cold air stinging her lungs. Her whole body began to shake with the cold as she coughed up mouthfuls of the water. The man held out his hand for the second time, and she took it, knowing it wouldn’t be long before hypothermia set in if she didn’t get out of the cold. Tugging her to her feet, he pointed to the step that led below deck.
‘It’s warm down there and you can get those sodden clothes off, have a warm shower; I’ll make you a cup of tea. You need to warm your body temperature up.’
‘Thank you,’ she managed.
He smiled at her. ‘Lady, I don’t know who you are or what the hell you were doing, but I’ve already had one guest on my boat die this week, I’m not having another. After you’ve had a shower I want to know who you are and what the hell you were doing, deal?’
She nodded then followed him downstairs.
‘The shower cools down after a few minutes, but it should be enough to warm you up. I have some spare clean clothes that I’ll leave outside the door for you.’
