Atlantis Riptide: Lost Daughters of Atlantis Book 1 Page 6

  He tumbled. His arms flayed. He and his camera landed with a big splash in the water. Ben was all wet and his camera ruined. He could never show that video to anyone.

  I contemplated Chase leaning over a tide pool. His muscular thighs bunched for balance. His white T-shirt came up at the waist revealing toned muscles. His wavy hair blew in the slight breeze. Hair any girl would love to run her fingers through. So why was he here with me?

  The reaction from the mermaid girls at the miniature golf course proved he was popular. I didn’t act like them and I hadn’t gone out of my way to be nice. Were his attention and compliments part of a plot to discover my secrets?

  Should I push him in the water like that other reporter? Or push him away?

  Chase climbed onto a rock near the cliffs and held out his hand to help me. “What about you? Any plans to go to college?”

  I spluttered trying to refocus on the conversation, still unsure how to handle him. Too late to push him in the water. Plus, if I had he’d only have more questions.

  With hesitancy, I put my hand in his and climbed on top of the rock next to him. Of course, he didn’t mean high school. He thought I was old enough to go to college. “I don’t think so.”

  I’d never attended a real school. I was home-schooled and I’d learned from the school of life, from the school of hard knocks, from the school of the circus which had its share of cliques and drama.

  “What do you want to do in the future?” He bent down to study another small pool of water. Purplish anemone stuck to the sides and tiny plankton swam around.

  “I usually take one day at a time.” Sometimes, one hour at a time. At the moment, surviving was my only goal.

  “But you have to do something.” His defiant tone went soft. “Don’t you have a dream?”

  I’d had plenty of dreams, most of them downright weird with hands reaching out to grab me under the sea, taking me so far down I’d never reach the surface again. The people doing the grabbing didn’t seem scary. They looked normal, except for the whole breathing-under-the-water thing.

  “Pearl?” Chase waved his hands in front of my face. “Where’d you go?”

  I couldn’t tell him the truth. My chest echoed with emptiness. “Off to one of those dreams you’re talking about.”

  My deep, down in my heart dream. My impossible dream. The dream that I wasn’t alone, that there were others like me.

  * * *

  Chase pointed out the miniature environment living in the tide pools. He explained about high tide and how the ecosystem survived. It was like attending a mini-marine biology course. He was a smart guy.

  And fun.

  He told me about his childhood antics living in Mermaid Beach that made me laugh, told me interesting stories about some of the local people, and ideas for local story angles.

  Entertaining, knowledgeable, intelligent. Except for the whole reporter thing, how could I not like the guy?

  My suspicious nature fought with my loneliness. I didn’t trust Chase, but I was having fun. We weren’t in the water. Unless I said something stupid, he’d learn nothing.

  “Have any plans for your next day off?”

  Add persistent.

  I laughed in spite of the fact I had an idea what he might ask—to spend more time together. Which I sooo wanted to do, but shouldn’t. I stalled. “Why do you want to know?”

  “You’re new to the area. Thought I’d show you around. We could drive up the coast.”

  My stomach rolled like the waves. “How do you know we’ll both have the same day off?”

  “We will.” Instead of irritating me, his confident tone only charmed. He was so sure of himself, so sure of the world and his place in it.

  While I didn’t belong anywhere, didn’t know where I should go, and didn’t know what I wanted to do tomorrow.

  I tiptoed around a small tide pool like I tiptoed around my answer. “Do you play tour guide to all the new girls in town?”

  “Only the pretty ones.”

  “There must be a lot of those.” After all, he lived in southern California.

  “No. Just you.”

  My limbs weakened. The compliment zinged up my spine and sparked a smile. Since running away, I hadn’t bothered with make-up. I didn’t want to be noticed. Still, Chase had singled me out, sought me out, asked me out. Again.

  Why, why, why? The question thumped in my brain.

  In Mermaid Beach I wasn’t newsworthy or a star. At least not yet. He happened to think I was interesting. If I kept my guard up even more than usual, maybe I’d learn what he was after. If anything. And learn more about him and my new surroundings. Call it research.

  Chase’s cell phone rang and he slipped it out of his pocket. He glanced at the screen and frowned. “Sorry. I’ve got to take this.”

  “No, problem.” Straying away to give him privacy, I climbed a large rock that jutted out into the ocean.

  Large waves hit the cliff and sprayed water high. The droplets refreshed. I took a seat on the edge and stared across the ocean toward the horizon.

  My shoulders relaxed. I took in deep breaths of the salty air. I was at home in Mermaid Beach. Loved the proximity to the ocean, loved the weather, loved the atmosphere of the small beach town. If possible, I’d love to settle here, maybe find a small apartment to splash with my personality, fill with the things I loved.

  I took another deep breath. Thinking, hoping, wishing.

  A squeak caught my attention. A furry sea otter swam by the rocks. Lying on his back with his head lifted, his dark eyes studied me.

  “Are you the one from last night?”

  “How many guys were you with last night?” Chase’s joking tone lightened my mood. He sat beside me.

  “I meant the sea otter.”

  The little guy dove back under the waves hiding from Chase.

  “Oh.” Chase made an exaggerated sad face. He fiddled with his cell phone. “That was uh, Mrs. Fowler on the phone. She owns the Boardwalk.”

  “So, I’ve heard.” It would be a drag if Mrs. Fowler called her managers while they were off work.

  “The police are here inspecting the lagoon. They have questions.” Chase took hold of my hand. “Pearl, the police want to talk to you.”

  Chapter Five

  Cop Clash

  My ribs pierced my heart with sharp pain. The cops had found me. The pounding of the surf sounded like boom after boom after boom of explosions sounding my doom. The Poseidon Family Circus must’ve spent a ton of money to get cops across the country to search for me. They wouldn’t let their little gold mine disappear.

  “Wh-when?”

  “Now.” Chase stood. The lines of his forehead bunched together in fear and concern. For me or the Boardwalk? He held out his hand, understanding I might need the help. “They want to hear your version of the rescue.”

  The pain in my chest eased but didn’t go away. “You mean about rescuing the boy?”

  “Yeah.”

  Ignoring his helping hand, I stood on my own. Relaxing had been a mistake. Letting down my guard had been the wrong decision. Getting close to someone and then being ripped apart would be too painful. At least being alone, not connecting with anyone, was safer for me and my heart.

  The cops might be questioning me about the rescue, but if they dug a bit under the surface they’d discover my false identity, my runaway status, my lies.

  I yanked down the frayed edges of the large T-shirt I wore over my suit. Chase grabbed hold of my hand and wouldn’t let go. We crossed onto the Boardwalk property. He must’ve sensed my turmoil. I should’ve snatched my hand back, ran to my tent, grabbed my things, and caught the first bus out of town. But I didn’t.

  Because maybe, just maybe, the questions would be about the rescue and that was all. Maybe the cop wouldn’t ask my age or realize the name I used to work at the Boardwalk was false. Maybe I could stay in Mermaid Beach.

  That’s why I let Chase hold my hand. I needed all the comfort I could
get, needed to build my strength before the interrogation, and in case I had to run again breaking our connection permanently.

  The tinny music from the midway caressed my ears like a familiar friend. The scent of corn dogs and taffy wafted in the air. The winking lights on the rides promised happiness. I wasn’t ready to leave this place yet.

  “You look pale. Are you feeling all right?”

  I probably looked guilty. Or terrified. “I, um, must’ve drunk too much soda. Maybe I should talk to the cops another time.” Like never.

  “Mrs. Fowler said they were waiting for you.” Chase led the way behind a few kiddie rides toward the back of the administration building. “I’ll take you in the back way. Mrs. Fowler wants to talk to you first.”

  Was the boss mad about something? Was I going to be fired? Chase, the manager, dutifully bringing me in like a deputy sheriff in a western town.

  Yanking my hand out of his, I struck out at him in a nasty tone. “Do you always do everything she says?”

  Like the Drop Tower ride, my emotions went up and down. I wanted the comfort and strength he provided, but I didn’t want him pulling me in to see the boss. Nerves made me jumpy and cruel. I’d run all the way across the country, and now because I’d had to rescue someone, I could get caught.

  Chase’s face tightened and he opened his mouth, but then snapped it shut. He rolled his shoulders and stared at the ground. “Pretty much.”

  My entire body drooped. He wouldn’t help me out of this jam, but he didn’t understand the problem so he didn’t deserve my attack. “I know she’s your boss.”

  “Yep. That’s right. Gotta listen to your boss,” Terse, he rapped on a door with peeling paint. Before anyone answered, he shoved the door open.

  The hinges creaked like they didn’t have enough grease sending a chill of warning down my spine. Mrs. Fowler paced on a frayed carpet in front of faded curtains behind a desk piled high with papers. Bookshelves lined one side of the wall filled with books, trophies, and family photos.

  Intense longing snapped my scared streak. I didn’t own a single family photo. Because I didn’t have a family.

  She turned toward us and halted, her mouth dropping open. “This is her?”

  “Yes.” Chase nodded.

  She studied me. “Thanks, um, for doing that job for me this morning.” Her glance went from my flip-flopped feet to the top of my head. “I tried to reach you on the phone number you left on your application.” Her intensity charged the room and made her appear older. “It was a pay phone.”

  When you didn’t have a home, you didn’t have a phone. And I couldn’t afford a cell. “Yes, um, well, I just moved here when I applied for the job. I didn’t have a phone yet.” I swallowed the phlegm in my throat. I took a step back toward the door.

  “Make sure you give my secretary the new information.” She nodded and then looked at Chase. Her eyes softened. “Thanks for bringing her here, hon.” Calling one of her managers hon seemed odd to me. “Why don’t you get a snack while I talk to Miss Seidon.”

  Miss Seidon. Right. That’s the false last name I gave on the application along with the fake phone number. I figured Poseidon stood out a little too much.

  “I’ll stay with Pearl.” He acted like my protector.

  Which was sweet. But I didn’t want him to hear whatever ugly details might come out. “It’s okay. Go.”

  Chase paused searching my face. I could tell he wanted to object by the tight lines around his lips. Instead, he shot a glance at Mrs. Fowler before leaving by the back door.

  Mrs. Fowler pointed to a chair. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

  With trembling limbs, I walked to the upholstered chair with the worn patches on the arms in front of the desk. Perching on the edge, I jiggled my legs, waiting for the yelling to start.

  She leaned against the edge of the desk, too close for comfort, and continued to examine, sizing me up. “Did you know the Kingdom of Atlantis miniature golf course lagoon isn’t for swimming?”

  I crossed my arms and frowned. “I wasn’t swimming.”

  “I understand, dear.” She reached over and patted my arm with a dry, papery hand. “You were heroic. But you’d understand why a person might overlook, or forget, to make an expensive adjustment.”

  I squinted, telegraphing my bewilderment.

  “I didn’t realize you were both the rescuer and the person who installed the filter cover this morning.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Just my luck.”

  Large bags weighed down her sharp, blue eyes and deep worry lines formed around her mouth. Running the Boardwalk wasn’t all fun and games.

  Compassion replaced my fear. This woman had a tough job and by the dilapidated condition of the rides, not doing it very well.

  She blew out a large sigh. “When the police interview you, I’d like you to not mention anything about the up-flow filter cover replacement.”

  “Why?”

  “Because that law should only apply to swimming pools, not decorative lagoons.” She squeezed her hands together and closed her eyelids. “A lawsuit would be expensive and the Boardwalk has gotten off to a slow start this season.”

  A lawsuit would only increase the amount of questions and all I wanted was to not be discovered. “Okay.”

  Her smile brightened her face making her appear much younger and more carefree. “Besides, why should it matter now? Thanks to you, the little boy is fine. We’ve cleaned the lagoon. And if we need to,” she sighed again, “we’ll find the money to build new, higher railings.”

  A knock sounded at the door and the secretary entered. “Officer Clayton is waiting.”

  “Send him in.” Mrs. Fowler stood and rubbed her hands on her thighs.

  The cop entered.

  “Officer Clayton, I hope you found everything you needed at the lagoon. This is Pearl Seidon, our hero.” She squeezed my shoulder.

  I licked my lips and stood to face my nemesis. My heart thrummed in my chest blocking my lungs from processing any air. One of my most humongous fears stood before me—interrogation by a cop.

  Officer Clayton stood at least six feet tall, towering over the diminutive Mrs. Fowler and me. His uniform was starched to perfection, but a small red stain marred his blue tie. He took out a small notebook and clicked his pen. “How do I spell your last name?”

  Gripping my slippery hands together. I spelled out my lie.

  He turned to Mrs. Fowler and escorted her toward the door. “I’d like to speak with Miss Seidon in private.”

  “But…” Her expression panicked with raised brows and dropped chin.

  I gripped my hands tighter. All feeling fled my fingertips. Police officers were trained to observe people and recognize lies. By standing here, I was living a lie.

  He closed the door and silence filled the small, cramped office. “Congratulations on your rescue. From what I’ve been told it was a pretty amazing feat.”

  A single bead of perspiration slipped down my back. “Thanks.”

  “Why don’t you sit down?”

  Another command to sit. I felt like a dog, but obeyed the direction. If it would get him to leave, I’d bark, too. The scenario reminded me of listening to Carlita’s commands. Dive higher, stay under water longer, scrub harder.

  He took the chair next to mine. Guess he wasn’t going to play the authority figure game.

  “Why don’t you tell me in your own words what happened yesterday at the lagoon?” His tone was soft, coaxing, a you-can-tell-me-anything-confidence-sharing type of voice.

  I licked my lips again, my mouth sand dry. “I was sweeping the sidewalk when these teens started goofing around by the railing—”

  “Joe. I already interviewed him.”

  “So you know that the little boy copied what Joe did, balancing on the railing. It was his fault.” Blaming someone else sounded juvenile, but I had to give it a try.

  “Unfortunately, we can’t arrest people for stupidity.”

  For a se
cond, I relaxed with a small smile. The cop didn’t seem so bad.

  Then he said, “Go on.”

  My tummy turned because the man wanted details. Details I didn’t want to tell. “The boy fell. His mother screamed. And I just reacted by diving in after him.”

  “I measured the height. That was an incredible dive into such a small amount of water. It’s amazing you weren’t hurt.” Officer Clayton’s face showed concern before his expression changed to impressed. “You must be quite a diver.”

  Wanting to downplay my role, I shrugged. “Lucky, I guess.”

  Or not. If I hadn’t dived in, I wouldn’t be being questioned by the cops, I wouldn’t have to lie again.

  He laughed and then seemed to school his features. “Go on with your story.”

  “I searched the entire length of the lagoon.” Oops, I need to make the time sound shorter. I bit my lip before more words rushed out. “Not that it’s big. And found the boy at the bottom.”

  Officer Clayton leaned forward. “Where exactly on the bottom?”

  “I was a bit disoriented.” Another lie, but it would make sense.

  “And then what?”

  “I picked him up,” I did not mention how he’d been stuck to the filter cover because that would’ve added time, “and brought him to the surface where I handed him off to Chase, who gave him first aid before the paramedics arrived.”

  Never would I tell about the breath I breathed into the toddler. I’d never even told the circus owners about that special skill.

  “How long would you say the boy was under water?”

  “Gosh, I don’t know.” I forced sincerity into my tone, hoping he believed me. “You know how emergency situations are, it seems so much longer than it really is.” I delivered my rehearsed line precisely the way I wanted.

  “Did you notice anything about the kid? Any injuries or strange markings?”

  Alarm rang and I sat up straighter. “No one pushed him. I saw him fall off the railing.”

  “You didn’t see any markings or lines on his back?”

  “It was hard to see in the water.” Well, it would be for most people.