“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“The southeastern sector is restricted. No swimming or boating allowed.”
“Why?”
“The rocks,” Bel explained. “The park has multiple posted signs as well as pamphlets given to visitors with a map of the water. The submerged rocks in that section are unusually tall and sharp. They would rip apart any boat that tried to maneuver them, and swimmers have died out there.”
It was Eamon’s turn to curse. “Her voice is definitely coming from that direction, and she sounds young. I wonder if teenagers took a boat out to hide their drinking and hit the rocks.”
Bel’s body flushed cold despite the July sun beating relentlessly against her back. Two months ago, another teenagegirl had ventured close to this lake to hide her drinking from her parents, only to disappear as if she’d never existed. Was it happening again?
“Do you see a boat?”
“No…” Eamon paused. “But that curve in the shoreline is blocking my view.”
“You should slow down.” Bel’s fingers dug into his abdomen, her limbs tired from fighting the speed trying to force her into the water. “I don’t know exactly where the rocks are, but if we hit one…”
“I can see well enough. We’re okay… there.” He pointed to a dot resting ahead of them. “Unless there were two boats, it hasn’t sunk.”
“Oh, thank god. Your screamer probably got hot and jumped in to cool down.”
“You think she hit a rock when she dove in?”
“It’s why there are no swimming signs posted all over.”
“And the no boating warning on those buoys,” Eamon said. “I ignored the pamphlets when we arrived this morning, but these are obvious. Anyone who risks venturing this far out is hiding something.”
“I hope it’s just alcohol.”
“I don’t smell blood.” Eamon inhaled the wind rushing past their faces. “Well, not enough to warrant someone bleeding out, but death by water isn’t often bloody.”
“We can’t have a dead kid, not on a holiday. Teenage deaths are always rough, but they’re worse on days like today. Days that we’re supposed to be happy.”
“Don’t kill anyone before we know what happened.” Eamon squeezed her leg, and as if his touch switched on her hearing, Bel finally noticed the screams.
“There’s distress in her voice. Let’s hope it’s just a boating accident, and that we made it in time.”
Eamon grunted his agreement, the couple falling silent until he guided the jet ski alongside the small boat, but before he could shove Bel on board, a muscular college student lunged over the side to greet them.
“Oh, thank God. Laura needs help.”
“Pull me up.” Bel reached for the teen’s hands, and he helped Eamon hoist her onto the deck. “My name is Detective Isobel Emerson,” she introduced herself, hoping the presence of a police officer would offer these manic students a sense of security, but the boat’s occupants recoiled as if she carried the plague with her. “I don’t care about the beer,” she assured them as they tried yet failed to position themselves in front of the overflowing drinks coolers. “I’m not on duty, but it doesn’t change the fact that this section of the lake is restricted. Did you really risk sinking your boat for cans of cheap beer?”
“We didn’t want to get caught,” the muscular student protested.
“It doesn’t matter now.” Bel dismissed him with a wave. She wanted to scream at him, to warn him what happened to underage kids when they snuck away from their families for a few hours of reckless fun, but she bit her tongue. “You said someone needed help?”
“Yeah, Laura.” The kid shoved his friends aside and ushered Bel and Eamon to a college student reclining in a puddle of blood.
“Oh my god.” Bel dove for the girl. “What happened?”
“The boat got stuck,” the muscular teen said. “We’d been partying out here for a while, but when we tried to leave, we realized we were trapped. We jumped in to see if we could shove free, but then Laura started screaming. All that blood. We can’t help?—”
“Eamon,” Bel cut the boy off, her shock at what lay wrapped around the victim’s ankle almost knocking her to her tailbone.
“Get it off,” Laura begged, tearing at the wire choking her calf until a fresh ooze of blood spilled onto the deck. “Get it off me!”
“Laura, stop.” Bel seized the girl’s hands, forcing them away from the horror digging into her flesh. “You’re going to cause serious damage.”
