Still Waters

She frowned slightly, trying to determine just who Beth might be; then a smile, soft and lovely, warmed her face. “Hello, Miss Anderson, isn’t it?”

“Beth, please.”

“Will you have a seat?”

“It’s so wonderful to see you here,” Beth said, sitting down.

“I like to come down by the water,” Maria said. “The sea and sun can be so rejuvenating, don’t you believe?”

“Definitely,” Beth agreed. Where, and how, did she plunge in? “In fact, I was just out at Calliope Key, and that made me think of an old friend of yours. Didn’t you work with Ted Monoco?”

Maria’s dark eyes flashed, and for a moment, Beth was afraid she had made the woman angry. But then Maria said, “Oh, yes. Ted and Molly. Such wonderful people. Those were the days. The studios he ran were the best. He gave people the gift of movement, the gift of dance.”

“How wonderful,” Beth murmured. “I guess now...he’s giving himself the gift of the sea and the sun.”

Maria Lopez sat stiffly for a moment, then shook her head. “No, I fear not.”

Beth swallowed carefully. “What do you mean?” she asked, careful not to give away her own thoughts.

“I believe something has happened to them. I would have heard from them otherwise, and there has been no word. I miss them,” she said softly. “And the worst is...there seems to be nothing I can do.” She forced a smile. “So here I am. Lunching near the sea.”

“I’m so sorry,” Beth said. She paused for a moment, then asked, “Tell me, do you still dance?”

“Sometimes, yes,” Maria said.

“I was wondering if...perhaps...you would consider dancing for our Summer Sizzler here at the club.”

Maria arched a delicate brow.

“I’d love to do something extraordinary,” Beth explained.

Maria was clearly flattered but not yet convinced. “To dance, one needs a partner. Perhaps you could speak to someone at Ted’s old studio, the main studio, on South Beach. All the studios were bought by a man named Eduardo Shea. He does well.”

This was too perfect, Beth thought, everything falling into place so casually and naturally.

“So I’ve heard—Manny told me,” she explained. “You know Manny Ortega, I’m sure.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” She offered Beth a full smile. “Manny is very talented, a lovely man. He knows Eduardo, as well. Eduardo is also quite an interesting man, half Cuban, half Irish. I can dance for you—with a partner, of course. But you should bring dance to your members, as well.”

“That’s what I’ve been thinking. That we should offer lessons here.”

“Your members will have so much fun. And the single men will do much better with the ladies.”

“Maria, what a wonderful idea.”

The older woman flushed slightly. “Thank you. Call Eduardo. Tell him that I suggested you speak to him. And if you go through with this, I will dance with his instructor, Mauricio. We will need to rehearse, of course. And if you wish your party to be a real success, you’ll need at least two male and two female instructors. I will work with them, of course.”

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

Maria laughed. “You will receive a bill.”

“Of course.”

“Truly, it will be my pleasure,” Maria said, inclining her head, something regal about the movement.

As Beth rose, Maria reached for her bag. “Give me a moment.... I have Eduardo’s card, and also my own, so that you may call me with details.”

Beth accepted the cards and reminded Maria that if she needed anything, to please let her know. As she left the table, she stopped Henry and told him that she would sign the tab for Maria’s lunch. Then she hurried back to Ashley.

“The fish was wonderful,” Ashley said.

Beth apologized swiftly. “I’m sorry. It’s just that—”

“There was Maria, who knew the Monocos, and you’re still obsessed with their disappearance, so...”

“Ashley, I saw a skull.”

“Beth, you’re not a cop.”

“So I should feel in my gut that a murder—no, murders—have taken place and just forget it?”

“The police are on it,” Ashley said.

“I hope so,” Beth said. “Anyway, I needed something special for the Summer Sizzler. Now I’ve got it.”

Ashley groaned, took a last sip of her iced tea and rose. “Jake and I will be at your Sizzler thing, by the way.”

“Thank you.”

“God sometimes needs help looking after fools,” Ashley told her.

Beth grinned and waved as her friend left the dining room.

* * *

When Keith woke up the following morning, Brad and Sandy’s boat was gone.

Even though he’d been bothered by their presence, he found their absence alarming.

Once again, he headed out to dive the area where he was certain that Brad had cast something overboard, though he was aware that both Lee and Matt, back on the boat, were convinced he wouldn’t find anything.

He was close to shore, and there was a lot of seaweed in the area. Though the seas were relatively calm, the sand seemed to be rising; the area was murky.

A large grouper came quizzically toward him, stared at him, apparently found nothing of interest and moved on. A small horseshoe crab, sensing danger, dug more deeply into the sand. A tang, far from the reefs, shot by.

Hands clasped behind his back, fins barely moving, he went over and over the area, trying to follow a grid. He wasn’t deep, maybe twenty-five feet, so he could have stayed forever. But he began to wonder himself if he wasn’t crazy. Maybe Brad hadn’t really dumped anything. Or maybe the guy was a pot smoker and had tossed out his stash. Fish miles away could be chewing it up by now.

The sound of his own breathing was getting monotonous. He usually liked the sound. It was peaceful, just like diving, but now, he was aggravated, looking for what he couldn’t find—just as it seemed he had been doing day after day.

A clown fish darted past his mask. A small eel slithered up from the sand and made a hasty retreat.

Though it seemed pointless, he retraced the area for the tenth time, even as the water began to turn chilly.

Just when he was about to give up in total disgust, he saw it.

At first he wasn’t quite sure what he had found. He saw it in the sand. He reached out, dusted sand away, picked it up.

Stared.

Stopped breathing, the cardinal sin in diving.

Gulped in air again.

And knew what he had found.

* * *

In the morning, Beth drove out to the beach to keep an appointment with Eduardo Shea.

He was a striking man, not particularly tall, perhaps five-ten, no more. His eyes were a brilliant blue, and his hair seemed to be pitch-black. He was tanned, with fine bone structure and quirky, flyaway brows. He had a smile in place long before he reached her.

“Miss Anderson, welcome.”

“Mr. Shea,” she murmured.

“Come in, come in. We’ll talk in the office.”

She nodded, walked into his office and took the chair in front of his desk. The walls were lined with plaques, and the shelves held all kinds of trophies. Her heart quickened as she saw a large picture on the wall of Eduardo Shea shaking hands with Ted Monoco, Molly at her husband’s side, beaming.

“I see you like that picture,” Eduardo said.

“He must have been a very fine man,” she murmured.

Eduardo frowned. “He is a fine man, talented, and also a good businessman. You don’t always get the two together.”

“Very true,” she agreed, then changed the subject so he wouldn’t think she was unduly interested in the Monocos. “How long have you owned the studios?” she asked.

“Not quite a year. But we are doing very well. Ted Monoco established a legacy of excellence, and we do our best to preserve it,” Eduardo said proudly.

“I had a conversation with Maria Lopez yesterday, and she—”

“Yes, I’ve spoken to Maria. And I’m prepared to offer you an excellent deal.”

“Oh?”

“Maria will dance with Mauricio, though she says she won’t teach. But I know Maria—she won’t be able to stop herself. We’ll send four more teachers. As to the music, I must approve the band, because if the beat isn’t right...”

“Perhaps you’ll suggest a band,” Beth said diplomatically.

“I’ll be happy to. Now, as to the cost...”

He laid out a rate scale that was more than fair. She thanked him, a little curious that he was willing to let his teachers work so cheaply.

“I have faith in their abilities. Your people will be coming to the studio to go on with their lessons, I promise you.”

“I hope so,” she murmured, finding herself looking at the wall again.

“You know the Monocos?” he asked.

“I’ve seen them,” she said vaguely.

“They were so excited to be off on their boat. Ted loved two things—dancing and his boat. After Molly, of course. They’re a great couple, still in love, after so many years. So few people mean ‘till death do us part’ anymore.”

“Some people do,” she said.

“Ah, a dreamer. Well, I like dreamers. Though dreams won’t come true if people don’t create them. Think of Ted. With nothing but his talent, he built up this business—and a fine retirement income.”

“Were you friends before you bought the business?” she asked politely.

“Of course. I bought the business because I learned from Ted,” Eduardo said. He glanced at his watch. “I have a lesson coming up. I’m delighted we’ll be doing business together. In fact, I’ll teach you myself on the night of your party. Next thing you know, you’ll be taking lessons yourself.”

She smiled. He and Maria seemed to have the same cheerful confidence. Nice.

“We’ll see. I’ll talk with you about final arrangements,” she told him.

As she rose, he walked around the desk and in an old-fashioned manner, kissed her hand. She tried to decide if he was sincere or just slick.

On the way out, she paused, looking again at the pictures on the office walls. They had all evidently been taken at various competitions. The men were in tuxes. The women wore ball gowns, elegant, formfitting, beautiful.

And in one of the pictures, smiling at the camera, looking her most devastating, was Amanda Mason.

Beth scanned the rest of the pictures. Yes...there, in one, Amanda’s father, Roger. And in another, Hank and a lovely young blond woman. Even Gerald, though he was merely in a group shot where a trophy was being handed to a woman.

“Are you interested in competitive dance?” he asked her. Before she could answer, he said, “Of course. You know the Masons. They’re boaters.”

“Yes, I know them. They belong to the club.”

“Well, they won’t be needing any basic instruction.”

“I hope they’ll enjoy the evening especially, since they already dance,” Beth said. “Thank you again, and we’ll speak soon.”

She hurried out, her mind spinning.

What did it mean?

She groaned aloud. It meant that the Masons enjoyed dancing. Big deal.

She shook her head, wondering what she was doing, what she had accomplished. Eduardo Shea didn’t seem worried about the Monocos. Eduardo had known them. The Masons had undoubtedly known them.

So?

She could meet a dozen people associated with the Monocos.

Those who had known them, worked with them, sailed with them, liked them.

And it all came back to...so?

None of it was bringing her any closer to the truth.

* * *

The monorail took Amber to school and home again. It was a ten-block walk from the Coconut Grove Station. Usually she got off and walked straight home, then called her father—Mr. Paranoid—who generally got home not long after.

This was an early-release day, though, and she had forgotten to tell him. Since Kim was with her, and she wasn’t expected anywhere, Amber decided that they should walk down to the club.

It was a long walk. They stopped at a fast-food joint near the highway for a soda, but by the time they reached the entrance to the club, they were both sweating.

“Straight to the café,” Kim said.

“We should tell Aunt Beth we’re here first,” Amber said.

“Why?”

“So she knows. Then she can call my dad.”

“Water, water. We need water,” Kim said.

“Okay, water, then Aunt Beth’s office.”

“Your dad is a member, right? So we’re allowed in with or without Beth.”

True, Amber thought, but she felt uncomfortable not letting her aunt know she was there first thing. It was going to be bad enough when Beth called her father to tell him that she’d forgotten an early dismissal.

When they approached the gate, Amber waved to the guard, who waved back.

“Beat you inside!” Kim said, and started running. Amber didn’t have the energy to run, and by the time she entered the club and walked through to the restaurant, Kim had disappeared.

Amber went up the stairs, but Aunt Beth wasn’t at her desk.

Kim was there, a look of pure mischief in her eyes. “Look—her computer is on. She’s getting an e-mail.”

“Kim, you can’t use my aunt’s work computer,” Amber protested.

“No, no, you have to look! This is totally awesome. It’s him. I’m sure it’s him.”

“Who?”

“What do you mean, who? The hunk from the island.”

“Keith?”

“Yes. Would you get over here and look!”

Amber exhaled a little nervously but couldn’t resist temptation. She walked around the desk and stared at the computer. The e-mail read:

Beth, I got your address from the switchboard. This is Keith, from the island. I’m asking you again to forget anything you think you saw. Let it go, please. There’s a new twist. I’ll see you soon and explain.

“Should we answer him?” Kim asked.

“No!”

Kim hit Reply and started typing anyway.

Will I really see you soon? I’ll be waiting anxiously.

She turned to Amber and asked, “What do you think?”

The two of them started to giggle.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Amber moaned.

“Oh, come on. She needs a life. Don’t you want a really hot uncle?” Kim demanded.

They looked at each other and started to giggle again. Amber smiled slowly, then started to type herself. If I’m not at the club... Once again, she hesitated.

Then she typed in her aunt’s address, added Or Private message me and gave her aunt’s screen name. With one last determined look, she hit Send.

“Oh, yes.” Kim applauded.

They heard a noise that seemed to be coming from one of the nearby offices. Kim jumped up. “We need to get out of here now.”

“Let’s go.”

They crashed into each other in the doorway in their eagerness to escape the office and their guilty endeavors, then ran down the stairs.

* * *

The man reveled in his own strength and a sense of superiority.

Kids, he thought with a sniff. Thank God they were so into themselves, so silly, so unobservant.

He wondered briefly what he would do if a child got in his way. He smiled grimly. He had decided once that nothing would stop him. Still, one simply had to hope that certain snags never entered into a picture, since it was impossible to truly know exactly what one would do until the occasion arose.

He entered Beth Anderson’s office in practiced silence and looked around slowly at first. He wasn’t afraid; he could easily explain his presence there.

Then he walked over to the computer and pulled up the e-mails, curious what the girls had been up to.

For a moment he felt as if ice was running through his bloodstream. But then he relaxed as he realized there was nothing there that could be held against him. Nothing. He was certain of it.

There were tissues on her desk, the box held in an elegant gold wire basket, the metal filigree artistically designed into the shape of sailboats.

He grabbed two tissues and carefully, slowly, meticulously wound them around his forefingers. Then he wiped the keys he’d just touched and began to type himself.

* * *

Beth was thoughtful as she returned to the yacht club, worried that all her plotting and planning would come to nothing. Maybe everyone was right. Not that she’d been imagining things. She was too sure of what she’d seen for that. But that nothing she did would change anything. Even nature was against her. The ocean was vast. The truth of that was never more apparent than when you were out on the open sea in a small boat. It was easy to imagine that the sea could swallow a boat and leave no trace.

Then again, the sea had a habit of flipping a finger at humanity. Flotsam and jetsam usually washed up somewhere!

But not always.

She waved to the guard at the entrance, not really paying attention, and pulled into her space, close to the main building. Inside, she hurried upstairs. In her office, she tossed her handbag onto a chair, slid behind her desk and sat down. She closed her eyes, leaning back for a minute.

Forget it. Just get back to work, she charged herself.

With a shake of her head, she rolled her chair forward and touched the space bar on her computer to turn off the screensaver.

She nearly flew back in the chair.

A giant skull appeared on the screen, then flashed off as if it had never been there.

It was followed by the words I’ll be seeing you soon. In the dark. All alone.

She jumped up and ran out of her office, ready to run down the stairs and find the manager or the commodore or anyone.

But as she reached the foyer and looked into the dining room, she came to a sudden halt.

Kim and Amber were there, just inside the doors, heads together as they sipped sodas. They looked up and saw her.

Both girls were talented actresses onstage, but in the real world, neither one of them was much at deception. The eyes that met hers were wide and filled with guilt.

She stared at them. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“Early-dismissal day,” Amber said, swallowing hard.

The girls exchanged glances.

Beth crossed her arms over her chest, furious. She was sure they hadn’t really intended to do anything awful, but she had been scared. Really scared.

“Early dismissal,” she choked out.

“I...forgot to tell Dad,” Amber said. “So, I, um, came here,” she finished weakly.

“To my office,” Beth said icily.

Both girls gulped.

“You were on my computer, weren’t you?” Beth asked accusingly, forcing herself to keep her voice low, since she was at work.

“Aunt Beth...” Amber began, then trailed off guiltily.

Beth tried hard to control her temper, but she still felt frightened, and that didn’t help matters.

She always tried so hard with Amber. It was such a delicate balance. She wasn’t Amber’s mother and could never hope to fill that void. She wanted her niece to know, though, that someone was always there for her, as a mother figure.

Her real mother would have had the luxury of real fury and the ability to punish her without losing her, but Beth had to tread a milder path.

“I suppose you thought you were very amusing,” she began.

“I—just thought—” Amber began.

“I don’t want to know what you thought!” Beth exploded, good intentions forgotten.

“Please don’t tell Dad,” Amber begged. “I’m sorry, really sorry. I’ll make it up to you. Somehow. If you tell Dad, then he’ll tell Kim’s parents, and then...” Her voice faded. She looked at Beth and whispered, “Please. We really didn’t mean to be terrible.”

Beth didn’t answer her. She had to calm down. She turned around and walked back up the stairs, not knowing if the girls would follow or not.

In her office, she sat down again, shaking.

She looked at the computer, then started to laugh. She had apparently tripped over the cord on her way out. The only thing that greeted her now was a blank screen. After a moment she rose, found the displaced plug and returned it to its rightful lodging.

A week ago she wouldn’t have been scared, she would have been puzzled.

Her anger had already begun to fade, probably because she had been so frightened, then so relieved.

She weighed the situation while she logged on and opened up her art program, working on plans to promote the Summer Sizzler and make sure she got everyone in the place excited about the dance lessons.

Do I tell Ben about this or not? she asked herself, returning to the question of the girls and their prank.

Amber would hate her.

Amber would have to get over it.

Maybe she should give the girls a second chance.

She forced her mind back to business. She was going to need a picture of Maria Lopez, which should be easy enough to find online. She pulled out Maria’s card to call her for permission.

She found a picture that was sensational and was also able to reach Maria immediately. In an hour her flyer had come along perfectly and was ready for printing. With that accomplished, she sat back in her chair—just as her brother made an appearance at her door, his daughter right behind him.

He was frowning. “You knew you had the girls?” he asked.

She could see Amber’s eyes. Pleading.

She shrugged, not willing to outright lie when the girls had done something so wrong.

“They never cause any trouble here, Ben.” She stared at Amber. “Almost never,” she added with a grim smile.

She saw him relax. She hadn’t lied, though she hadn’t exactly told the truth, either.

“All right, but I’m supposed to know as well when it’s early dismissal,” he told his daughter.

“Dad,” Amber said, and there was a slight note of reproach in her voice. “You have the school calendar. You just don’t always pay attention.”

Ben opened and closed his mouth. “Yeah, I have the school calendar,” he said finally. He sounded gruff. He turned and walked away.

Amber stared after him, thinking he was still angry. Beth knew better. He was just feeling as if he’d somehow failed as a parent.

Amber stared at Beth again, and Beth was startled to see tears rising in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Aunt Beth. Really sorry.”

“Don’t do it again,” Beth said softly. “And your dad lives for you. Give him a break.”

Kim slipped an arm around Amber as they walked off together.

“Hey,” Beth called. “Kim—what’s the story? Am I driving you home later, or are your folks coming?”

The girls turned back to her. “I’m getting picked up at five-thirty by the guardhouse,” Kim said. “Thank you,” she added quickly.

“Right,” Beth murmured. “Amber, after Kim’s folks have come, we’ll find your dad and have dinner before we leave, okay?”

Amber nodded and took off with Kim.

Beth watched them go, forgetting her own anger. This aunt thing wasn’t easy, she thought. Of course, life never was.

She smiled slightly, turning back to her work, writing herself a mental note that she should be checking up on Amber’s school schedule more than she had been.

* * *

Ben wasn’t angry; he felt depleted. He was actually a pretty good father. He just sucked at trying to be two parents at once.

He sat at the outside bar, sipping a beer. “Hey,” came a call.

Looking around, he saw Mark Grimshaw. As kids, they’d taken sailing lessons together. Then they’d wound up at law school together upstate, and, like their fathers before them, they’d both become members of the club.

“Hey yourself.”

“Your latest case is sure making headlines,” Mark told him.

Ben must have winced, because Mark quickly apologized. “There’s a group of us—and not all attorneys, honest—at the pool. Why don’t you join us?”

Ben lifted his beer. “My daughter’s here. I think we’ll just grab a bite and go home.”

“It’s early. They’re not even serving dinner for another hour. Maybe your daughter wants to hop in the pool, too.”

No, his daughter wouldn’t want to hang with her old man. But maybe a few laps would tire him out, if nothing else.

“Sure. Let me go to my locker. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

Mark nodded, smiling. He was a pleasant guy. Worked on civil cases, had a great reputation. Ben had tried to set Beth up with him. Beth liked him well enough but insisted there was just no chemistry.