the stairway leading to the lower deck and debated whether to climb down into the darkened cabin. On one hand, it’s not my boat, so why do I need to be the one to traipse through the trash? On the other, Gilbert will be a twisty worried mess and want me to do it instead of him, and I was already halfway there with fish shit on my shoe.
Remarkably, the smell wasn’t so bad downstairs, but I grumbled anyway. So far, nothing broken to snap and crackle beneath my squishy shoe. I felt for a light switch, eventually finding a small lamp to flick on. Maybe Jaime used up all her anger upstairs where the whole world could see it.
Or maybe she was dead on the floor with a bullet hole in her head and blood in her hair.
Jaime Goodsen’s lifeless eyes stared up at me, almost pleading at me. Her expression was frozen, eyes wide with terror, her arm stretched toward the door, as if trying to warn me.
“Oh my God,” I choked out. I stumbled backward until I hit a cabinet. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I whispered over and over, unable to stop.
Something thumped and I ran.
Up the stairs, onto the deck, and straight into the bucket of dead fish. This time I fell. I flew across the deck face first, sliding through slime and guts, screaming my head off. Something splashed my face. I slapped my lips closed and tucked into a ball until I rolled to stop.
“Elliott!” Tug’s voice bellowed over the crowd.
I heard the pounding of his footsteps as he barreled down the pier to the side of the boat.
“Are you okay? Can you move?”
I stood up so fast I nearly passed out. With shaking hands, I waved him off. “Don’t come on the boat, Tug. Just call dispatch. Or 911. Or whatever. Just get them here now.”
He reached for the rail and I ran forward. “ No! Crime scene. Honest, please, please call them.” I lowered my voice. “Jaime Goodsen is dead down below.”
“Oh, man.” He staggered back and reached for his phone.
I pulled out my hand-sani. My hands were shaking so badly, I bobbled the bottle and almost dropped it twice. I flicked the lid and squirted. Nothing came out.
“No no no no no no.” Panic drove bile into my throat and I was sweating like a pig in July. I squeezed and shook and pleaded until a single lonely blob plopped into my palm. I’d used it all up in the attic earlier at the Big House and hadn’t even noticed.
“They are on their way, Elli,” Tug hollered up from the deck.
I wobbled over to the side and he helped me down from the boat. The lunch crowd had moved from the deck to the dock, held back by a single orange parking cone.
“Can you…um, can you…” I cleared my throat.
“Go clean up, Elli. I’ll stand guard.”
I kicked off my shoes right there on the wood planks and fast-walked barefoot through the crowd. They stood back out of respect. Or maybe it was the smell.
Once inside the tiny lavatory, I used my elbow to unload enough soap to wash a car. I scrubbed my face, arms, and hands until they stung, then rinsed. After I dried off with a scratchy brown paper towel, I rested my forehead on the basin edge.
Wasn’t I just here, doing this same thing? I thought. First Gilbert, now Jaime.
“Oh, man. Gilbert.” How was I going to tell him? Now’s he’s really going to freak out. Jaime attacked and dead on his boat. Did he kill her? What about her boyfriend who attacked me at Jaime’s house? Is this why she wasn’t home? My God, it could’ve been me.
I was about to fully indulge in a breakdown when someone pounded on the bathroom door. Think me silly, but I recognized the pounding.
I tilted my head back and took a deep breath, then swung open the door.
“Hi, Nick. We simply must stop meeting like this.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
I pushed the hair off my face and felt fish juice. “Oh this? I fell into a small bucket of fish. It’ll wash out.”
“Not the fish smell part, Lisbon. The going aboard a stolen boat that’s been obviously
Remarkably, the smell wasn’t so bad downstairs, but I grumbled anyway. So far, nothing broken to snap and crackle beneath my squishy shoe. I felt for a light switch, eventually finding a small lamp to flick on. Maybe Jaime used up all her anger upstairs where the whole world could see it.
Or maybe she was dead on the floor with a bullet hole in her head and blood in her hair.
Jaime Goodsen’s lifeless eyes stared up at me, almost pleading at me. Her expression was frozen, eyes wide with terror, her arm stretched toward the door, as if trying to warn me.
“Oh my God,” I choked out. I stumbled backward until I hit a cabinet. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I whispered over and over, unable to stop.
Something thumped and I ran.
Up the stairs, onto the deck, and straight into the bucket of dead fish. This time I fell. I flew across the deck face first, sliding through slime and guts, screaming my head off. Something splashed my face. I slapped my lips closed and tucked into a ball until I rolled to stop.
“Elliott!” Tug’s voice bellowed over the crowd.
I heard the pounding of his footsteps as he barreled down the pier to the side of the boat.
“Are you okay? Can you move?”
I stood up so fast I nearly passed out. With shaking hands, I waved him off. “Don’t come on the boat, Tug. Just call dispatch. Or 911. Or whatever. Just get them here now.”
He reached for the rail and I ran forward. “ No! Crime scene. Honest, please, please call them.” I lowered my voice. “Jaime Goodsen is dead down below.”
“Oh, man.” He staggered back and reached for his phone.
I pulled out my hand-sani. My hands were shaking so badly, I bobbled the bottle and almost dropped it twice. I flicked the lid and squirted. Nothing came out.
“No no no no no no.” Panic drove bile into my throat and I was sweating like a pig in July. I squeezed and shook and pleaded until a single lonely blob plopped into my palm. I’d used it all up in the attic earlier at the Big House and hadn’t even noticed.
“They are on their way, Elli,” Tug hollered up from the deck.
I wobbled over to the side and he helped me down from the boat. The lunch crowd had moved from the deck to the dock, held back by a single orange parking cone.
“Can you…um, can you…” I cleared my throat.
“Go clean up, Elli. I’ll stand guard.”
I kicked off my shoes right there on the wood planks and fast-walked barefoot through the crowd. They stood back out of respect. Or maybe it was the smell.
Once inside the tiny lavatory, I used my elbow to unload enough soap to wash a car. I scrubbed my face, arms, and hands until they stung, then rinsed. After I dried off with a scratchy brown paper towel, I rested my forehead on the basin edge.
Wasn’t I just here, doing this same thing? I thought. First Gilbert, now Jaime.
“Oh, man. Gilbert.” How was I going to tell him? Now’s he’s really going to freak out. Jaime attacked and dead on his boat. Did he kill her? What about her boyfriend who attacked me at Jaime’s house? Is this why she wasn’t home? My God, it could’ve been me.
I was about to fully indulge in a breakdown when someone pounded on the bathroom door. Think me silly, but I recognized the pounding.
I tilted my head back and took a deep breath, then swung open the door.
“Hi, Nick. We simply must stop meeting like this.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
I pushed the hair off my face and felt fish juice. “Oh this? I fell into a small bucket of fish. It’ll wash out.”
“Not the fish smell part, Lisbon. The going aboard a stolen boat that’s been obviously
Similar Books
