False Mermaid

The seal led them down to the water’s edge and along the edge of the beach, turning to check every few seconds, as if to make sure they were still in pursuit. At the end of the rocky alcove, the seal galloped out into the rippling waves and dived, immediately transformed from lumbering beast to sleek bullet—the webbed flippers, useless on land, now marvelously graceful in that watery world. Then it was gone, leaving only widening circles in its wake.

Elizabeth stood staring out at the water, perhaps hoping for a glimpse of a glossy head, while Nora’s attention was pulled to a gleaming cabin cruiser tied up at the near side of the concrete pier. She hadn’t heard a boat approaching, but the thick mist and the sound of the rolling stones might have been enough to mask any engine noise. Or it might have been there all along. Small waves rocked the white hull gently from side to side. No one seemed to be aboard.

Nora felt a cold chill down her arms. She climbed the hill where the pier was attached to the harbor side, and Elizabeth followed. Before venturing out onto the narrow concrete jetty, she turned. “Stay right there, Lizzabet. Don’t move.”

The boat was twenty-five feet at least, with a cabin belowdecks and a powerful inboard motor that wouldn’t have made a lot of noise coming in. Why had someone just abandoned it here? She glanced back at Elizabeth and reached for the walkie-talkie, hoping she remembered Cormac’s instructions on how to work it.

“Cormac—come in. Are you there?” She crept closer to the boat, expecting a head to emerge any moment from below.

His voice came crackling through the speaker. “What’s happening, Nora? Where are you?”

“At Port na Rón. There’s a boat tied up at the pier, but I can’t see anyone around. You haven’t heard from Devaney?”

“No. Maybe you should head back to the house—”

“I’m going to see if anyone’s below.”

“Nora, don’t—”

His voice cut out as she clipped the walkie-talkie to her belt, and started down the ladder at the side of the pier. “Stay there,” she called to Elizabeth. “I’ll be right back.”

Down on the level with the boat, she vaulted onto the deck over the gunwale. A pair of sunglasses lay on the ledge above the wheel, but there were no other obvious signs of occupancy. No keys in the ignition. She called down into the cabin through the open hatch door. “Hello—anyone here?” No answer. She unclipped the walkie-talkie and pressed the button to speak. “Cormac, are you still there?”

“What’s happening? Is everything all right?”

“There’s no one on the boat. Nobody around at all. It’s odd.”

“Listen, I’m coming up to Kilcar, and I’m calling Devaney right now. Will you please get out of there? Let me know as soon as you get back to the house.”

“I will—I promise.”

She clipped the walkie-talkie to her belt again and climbed up the ladder, stopping short at the sight that greeted her. Elizabeth stood at the far end of the pier, arms pinned behind her back. The person who held her was Miranda Staunton—the new Mrs. Hallett.

8

Miranda offered a chilly smile. “What’s the matter, Nora—not the person you expected? Take a step closer, and I’ll break her arms. Don’t tempt me.” Elizabeth caught a sharp breath as Miranda tugged at her elbows.

Nora raised her right hand, signaling her niece to keep still, while her left hand inched closer to the walkie-talkie at her waist. Miranda’s icy voice stopped her: “No, you don’t—drop it.”

There was no choice. Nora slid her thumb across the “talk” button as she lifted the walkie-talkie from her belt, and Cormac’s voice sounded through hissing static. “Nora? Nora—are you there?”

Miranda shook her head. “Too bad you can’t answer. Now kick that thing into the water. Do it!”

Nora tried nudging the walkie-talkie with her foot, hoping she could get it to land on the lower pier, but the rubber casing that rendered the bloody thing indestructible also made it bounce. The walkie-talkie landed in the water with a loud plop.

Miranda began to edge up the side of the ridge above the pier, keeping her eyes on Nora, and Elizabeth in front of her. Nora’s mind raced. If she could just buy some time—

“How on earth did you find us?”

Miranda fumbled for Elizabeth’s backpack and held up a small disk attached to the zipper. “The wonders of modern technology—a GPS kid tracker. Turn-by-turn directions at the touch of a BlackBerry.”

“And you think Peter will be grateful when you bring Elizabeth back, is that it?”