A Watery Death (A Missing Pieces Mystery Book 7) by Joyce Lavene, Jim Lavene Page B

was no strain at all.
    “Let me go!” I yelled and finally started screaming for help.
    “Quiet, please.” The voice was familiar and didn’t seem angry that I was trying to hurt him.
    “Put me down. If you have something to say, I can listen on my feet. You don’t have to carry me away.”
    “I won’t hurt you. We’re almost there.”
    I realized when he spoke again that it was the naked man from last night. I should have talked to someone about him.
    Too late now.
    His shoulders was cool and clammy under my hands. They had a spongy consistency that was unusual for normal skin. I couldn’t stop myself from questioning—merman? Was that possible?
    He ran up the ramp to the boardwalk. His muscles bunched tightly together just before he jumped across the rail and landed on the sandbar adjacent to the shops.
    History said that this had been a popular place for parties back in the 1930s. The historical society had dug up dozens of old whiskey bottles and other artifacts. But why come here?
    My heart pounded as I renewed my efforts to escape.
    The man, who held me like a baby in his arms, abruptly set me down on my feet. I could feel the water and sand ooze into my tennis shoes. The light from the crescent moon shone on his face. The shops were quiet and dark behind him.
    “Why are you doing this?” I felt more secure since I was standing. I glanced around for a weapon of some sort. There was a broken wooden oar beside me on the sand, but it didn’t look like much.
    “You must hear what I have to say. I know you are the ruler of this place. I am here to help you.”
    “Ruler? I’m the mayor, if that’s what you mean.” Was this just some weird way of complaining about something he didn’t like? I was sure I had never seen him before—except for last night. He was still naked, and a little greenish in the moonlight.
    Merman , my mind whispered.
    Shut up!
    “Yes. Whatever your term is for your authority. I am Tovi. I have come on behalf of the sea folk to tell you that we are not responsible for the death of your ship captain.”
    I was mesmerized by his strangely moving eyes as they shifted from green to blue to brown. How could anyone’s eyes move that way? They looked like an old lava lamp, sending gold sparks through the colors. He was so strange, and yet so beautiful. His accent was strange too. Where was he from?
    Under the sea , my imagination replied. Travis called him with the horn.
    Shaking off the fascination, I tried to set him straight. “Look. I’m the mayor. That’s true. But I think you need to talk to the police. I’m not in charge of people dying, and if you know something about Captain Lucky’s death, you should report it. But not to me.”
    “Are you listening to what I say?” he asked in an impatient tone. “I only have a short while remaining this day before I must go. I have lived centuries, and I know the ways of man. I know of your captain’s death, but I wasn’t the cause of it. Do not look for me. Only war between us can ensue if they hunt for us.”
    Not really sure if I should laugh at him—he might be more than a little disturbed—I tried to keep a straight face when I spoke. “Captain Lucky’s death is tragic, but I don’t think anyone is going to war over it. Are you from around here?”
    He shook me. It wasn’t hard, more like you’d shake someone to wake them up.
    “Are you listening to me, woman? Or are you insane?”
    Funny, since I’d been partially thinking that about him. The other part that made my skin creep and my brain race was thinking that he was a merman.
    “I really think you should come with me to talk with our police chief. It will only take a few minutes.” I carefully enunciated every word, hoping he would understand.
    He glanced sharply at the horizon. “The sun is coming. Meet me here at sundown. We can speak with your police chief then. But mind you, do not try to follow me. This could mean your death.”
    Inside, I was thinking, you