Wicked Eddies by Beth Groundwater

it?”
    Mandy licked her lips. “We were out on the river today, searching for a missing fisherman. We didn’t find his body, but we found someone else’s.”
    Eyes widening with sick, dawning realization, Cynthia said, “Oh, God. Who?”
    â€œI wish I knew how to tell you this so it wouldn’t hurt as much, but I don’t, so I’m just going to say it.” Mandy paused, her eyes already starting to burn with unshed tears. “It was Faith. We found Faith’s body in the river.”
    Cynthia’s hand dropped. Her body crumpled, and her face with it. “No. No. Not Faith.”
    Mandy put an arm around her friend’s shoulders. “I saw her. I recognized her. It was Faith. I’m really, really sorry, Cynthia.”
    While she stared at Mandy in horror, tears welled up in Cynthia’s eyes and overflowed down her cheeks. Her mouth dropped open, and out came a wail of pure misery. Starting softly, it rose in volume, growing into a howling scream that went on and on, raising the hairs on the back of Mandy’s neck.
    Cynthia gulped in a breath and screamed again. And again, her hands stiffened into claws raised to the heavens.
    Shaken by the depth of Cynthia’s reaction, Mandy grabbed her friend’s shoulders and gave her a shake. “Cynthia?”
    Staring at her without seeing, Cynthia went on screaming.
    Mandy gave her another shake. “Cynthia.”
    Finally, Cynthia’s gaze focused on Mandy, and she collapsed against Mandy’s shoulders, deep sobs shaking her frame.
    Mandy just held Cynthia and stroked her back and her hair, letting her tears soak into Mandy’s long-sleeved T-shirt until it stuck to her chest. Mandy’s own tears slid down her cheeks and dripped from her chin.
    Mittens meowed plaintively and rubbed against her mistress’s legs, but Cynthia paid her no attention.
    Finally, as the sobs subsided, Mandy gently extracted herself from Cynthia’s clutches. She stood up and grabbed the tissue box next to the TV, took a tissue for herself, and brought the box to the sofa.
    After snatching a couple of tissues, Cynthia wiped her face, and blew her nose. She dropped them onto the floor and repeated the process. Her face was blotchy red and swollen and looked awful.
    Cynthia pulled Mandy down next to her. “Tell me everything. Please.”
    â€œAre you sure you can handle it?”
    Cynthia’s grip tightened on Mandy’s arm until it hurt. “Yes, tell me.”
    â€œI was the one who found her,” Mandy said, while loosening Cynthia’s grip. “Under the last huge boulder in Pinball Rapid.”
    â€œDo you know how she died? If she drowned or if someone killed her and threw her in?”
    â€œNo, we really don’t know. Her body was bruised and scraped, but the river could have done that. I didn’t see any large wounds, or a bullet hole or anything. Maybe the autopsy will tell us something.”
    Cynthia gasped. “They’re going to carve her up?”
    Mandy put her hands on her friend’s arms and gently rubbed them. “It’s not Faith anymore. She’s gone.” She sent up a silent prayer to her Uncle Bill, asking him to guide and comfort Faith’s soul on her journey, if that was possible.
    â€œWhat did she look like, besides the bruises and scrapes?”
    â€œShe looked peaceful, like she was sleeping. Her skin was so white and her hair was floating in the water, like a drowned princess or nymph or something. Beautiful, even though …”
    Cynthia dabbed at fresh tears. “Her skin? What was she wearing?”
    â€œUm, nothing, actually.” When Cynthia looked aghast, Mandy quickly added, “That’s typical, though, for bodies found in the river. The rapids. They tumble the body. And …” Unable to find a delicate way to word it, Mandy shrugged. “The clothes end up being torn off.”
    â€œOh, God.”