Page 55 of The Girls in the Lake
Sixty-Two
Beth got out of her car, the darkening sky casting warped shadows all around the marina. She didn’t know what being here could achieve; she only knew she had to try and locate the boat both girls had fallen out of.
There were still no messages or calls from Josh, which hurt. She knew he was busy, of course he was, but she’d sent him a text two hours ago saying they needed to talk and he’d only texted back ‘sorry’. He would be furious with her if she told him about being at the marina doing her own investigating, but what else could she do? Someone had to put a stop to these senseless deaths.
She pulled the woollen hat down over her ears and zipped her coat up to her neck. The row of shops was all in darkness, closed signs facing the road, but she was thankful the pub was open, the light shining out through its windows casting a warm glow onto the side of the lake. No one was outside and she doubted there were many customers inside either. It was too cold and miserable; people would rather be by the fire watching the television in this weather. Into her pocket she’d stuffed a handful of blue crime scene gloves and several specimen pots. She figured that the boat both girls had come into contact with had to be nearThe Tequila Sunrise, so that ruled out most of the for-hire ones a good distance away along the promenade. Paul had said that Josh was busy taking statements, so that meant she wouldn’t have to worry about bumping into James Marshall again. Did she have the nerve to go back onto his boat to get a better sample from the wooden boat he had tied up behind it? She could use the excuse she was returning his boots and clothes. Without a search warrant the evidence would be inadmissible in court, she knew, but it could be the lead they needed to crack the case.
As she reached the jetty whereThe Tequila Sunrisewas moored, a sinking feeling enveloped her: the dinghy had gone. Did James Marshall realise how serious and incriminating the evidence she’d almost got could be? He must have moved it somewhere else. Walking up and down, she realised that not only had that boat been moved, but there were no others like it in this part of the marina. Now what was she supposed to do?Go home and have a glass of wine, she laughed to herself, then spotted the welcoming glow of the pub behind her.
* * *
Inside, the television was on and there was an elderly couple sitting next to it watching a programme about buying a house in the country. She walked to the bar and sat on one of the stools. She hadn’t been in here before and it was much bigger than it looked outside.
‘What can I get you?’
The voice came from nowhere and she jumped. ‘Do you do coffee?’
The man, who had a tea towel thrown over one shoulder, nodded. ‘Cappuccino, latte, Americano?’
‘Cappuccino, please. Is it always this quiet?’
He shrugged. ‘Depends on the weather; there’s a storm brewing. Locals don’t come out in this weather and there doesn’t seem to be many tourists around.’ He pointed at the couple who were glued to the television. ‘Well apart from those two.’
He left her and returned a few minutes later with her coffee.
‘Thank you, have you worked here long?’
He laughed. ‘Only since I was old enough to wait tables. My parents own the place, but I kind of run it for them now they’re getting a bit past it.’
‘Do you get a lot of boat owners in here?’
‘Sometimes, more so in the warmer weather.’
‘I was wondering if you knew of anyone who had an old-fashioned, wooden rowing boat they may keep moored here.’
His eyes narrowed as he thought about it. He began to shake his head. ‘Not really, apart from the one the arse that owns the big party boat sometimes uses.’
Beth sipped her coffee. ‘The Tequila Sunrise?’
‘Yeah, that’s the one. It’s the only rowing boat around here like that. There’s plenty further around by the pier. You can hire them by the hour, although I wouldn’t recommend it this time of year. It’s too cold. It’s terrible about those two women they pulled out of the lake, isn’t it?’
‘Tragic.’
‘Rumour has it they came off the party boat. He needs his licence taking off him. If two people had died coming out of this pub the council would have shut us down in the blink of an eye.’
Beth couldn’t agree more. Taking out her phone, she began to search the Internet for information on the owner of the boat, but her Wi-Fi signal wasn’t strong enough. Finishing her coffee, Beth stood up; everything pointed to James Marshall. She needed to speak to Josh and tell him what she knew; hopefully between them they could put an end to these senseless deaths.
Her phone rang and she answered the private number.
‘Doctor Adams.’
There was a slight pause and then a quiet voice said, ‘My name is Jude Williams; I used to be Foster. I believe you rang the school wanting to talk to me.’
Beth had almost given up on hearing back from anyone.
‘I did. Is it convenient to talk? We can chat on the phone, or I can come to you.’
‘I’d rather speak now. I don’t want to bother my husband with whatever this might be about.’
