“My father was here,” I say.
“Come to the dock, Charlie. Get out of the boat and tell me what you saw.”
“Give me ten minutes,” I say. “That’s all. Leave and come back, and Reid and I will be here.”
“I can’t do that. Gilcrest is on his way. Bring the boat to the dock before he arrives. Please. He can’t see you out there.”
I search the darkened shoreline for any sign of my brother or father. I feel shaky as I see myself through Seton’s eyes, the panic, the desperation. “I don’t know what to do,” I say.
Seton comes to the very edge of the dock and reaches across the water toward me. “Yes, you do,” she says. “This is easy. Toss me a line. That’s theonlydecision you need to make. I’ll tie off the boat, and we’ll go up to the house, where you can tell us what you know.”
I turn away from her, facing the lake.
“It’s only us,” Seton says, “but it won’t be for much longer. Right now, as far as I’m concerned, none of this happened. When Gilcrest gets here, that won’t be an option anymore.”
Out in the channel, a boat passes, its red and green combination lights illuminated against the dark. Seconds later, its wake moves across the still water. Something ripples on the darkened surface, something that shouldn’t be there, something that chills me to the bone.
I pull at the laces on my boots.
“Don’t move, Charlie,” Seton says. “I mean it.”
I kick the boots into the boat, tear at my fleece, and struggle to pull off my jeans before giving up and flinging myself over the bow. As Seton shouts into her radio for backup, my head submerges beneath the surface, and the cold of the water expels oxygen from my lungs. I come up for air and pull forward, toward the center of the cove.
Maybe I’m not too late.
My hand brushes something cold and slick. I flail, as Reid’s lifeless eyes stare up at the moonlit sky.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
I shiver on Idlewood’s back porch, wrapped in a blanket, somehow having managed to change out of my wet clothing. I stare into the night, feeling nothing but remorse for the final, angry words Reid and I hurled at each other the last time we spoke. The last time we’ll ever speak.
An hour has passed, maybe two, since I found my brother’s body, since Seton threw herself into the lake and surfaced beside me while a second cruiser skidded to a stop in the parking area.
“Oh God,” Seton cried out when she saw Reid. “In the water!” she shouted toward shore. “Call an ambulance. Now!”
I struggled to stay afloat as I cradled Reid in my arms. “We fought,” I said, the words forming on their own. “I was so angry.”
Seton grabbed my face and forced me to look her in the eyes. “Shut up,” she said. “I’m a cop. Not another word.”
Now I can’t get images out of my mind, of Reid’s lifeless eyes, of struggling with Seton to drag his body through the water to the shore. There, Seton and the deputy, Maggie, began administering CPR, though I knew it was futile. Hadley arrived soon after, drawn by the police cruisers speeding past the bungalow. She took over compressions while I watched, my body drained of emotion. When Gilcrest arrived on the scene, he stood over Reid, his face ashen.
Eventually, Hadley asked for the time.
“9:52,” Seton said.
Hadley stopped compressions. “Take note,” she said. “Time of death.”
“No, no, no,” I heard myself say. “Keep going.”
“It’s over, Charlie,” Hadley said to me, slumping onto her heels. “He’s gone. His body’s already cooling. He’s been dead for a while, but the ME will need to determine when.”
“And how,” Gilcrest said. “The why, that’s up to me to determine.”
“I told him not to swim alone,” I said, as Seton put both hands on the side of my face and barely shook her head.
“Chief,” Gilcrest said, “you threw me off the stalking case earlier. Let me return the favor. Leave the crime scene. Maggie and I can manage till the rest of the team get here. This is an unattended death, so it’s the state’s jurisdiction anyway.”
“I’ll help set up the perimeter,” Seton said.
