like a tsunami. If she was in danger, so were her cousins. So was every mermaid, few as they now were in the Gulf Coast. The toxic oil spills had chased away most of those lingering in the area.
“I saw a body being dumped about three miles out in the ocean, near the mussel beds.”
“You mean—a dead body?” Jet asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Yes.” She took a deep breath and spoke again, the bottled words tumbling out. “I felt the pulse of the water change and when I looked to the surface I saw a tall object falling. And...and there was a boat, too, but it left.” Her mouth quivered violently and Shelly clamped her jaws, trying to still her chattering teeth.
Lily laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You’re okay now,” she murmured in a voice that held the echo of an ocean wave.
Shelly nodded. “I knew, as soon as it dropped, that it smelled human even though it looked all wrong. You know? Just a long, cylindrical object with no arms or legs moving.
“I dragged the thing up and realized the plastic had interfered with my sense of smell. When I tore open the bags, the human smell overpowered me and I saw...” Her whole body convulsed. “I saw a face with missing eyes.”
“Just like the body found a few months ago,” Lily whispered. “Oh, honey, no wonder you’re so upset. How awful.”
“That’s not the worst part,” Shelly confessed. “I was seen. In mermaid form.”
A stunned silence settled in the kitchen.
“Don’t tell me the killer saw you,” Jet demanded.
Shelly hung her head. She’d screwed up big-time. “He got close enough to stab me in my tail fin as I tried to get away. The damn thing stuck.”
Jet’s hands fisted at her sides. “Son of a bitch. Wish I’d been the one who killed him.”
They thought she’d killed him.
“Don’t be upset.” Lily stroked her arm. “You did what you had to do. It’s over now.”
“It’s not over,” Shelly confessed. “He got away.”
Jet slammed a fist down on the kitchen table. “He can’t know our secret. I’ll take him out myself.” She took a determined step toward the back door. “Just tell me what direction he went and I’ll find the bastard.”
Lily stood. “Let me do it. I’ll sing to him. No man can resist me when I sing. It’ll be easier that way, and less violent.”
“But he’s gone.” Shelly stood, grimaced at the shooting pain in her right foot and sat back down. “Besides, you don’t know what he looks like.”
Jet faced her, hands on hips. “So. Describe him and the boat.”
Shelly shook her head and lowered her lashes. “It’s too late to do anything about it now.”
“So...what? Are we supposed to sit around and chance that he’ll find us?” Jet paced, running her hands through her short hair.
Lily’s musical voice interrupted. “He doesn’t know who we are. It was dark. A human’s eyesight isn’t as good as ours. We should be safe.”
Shelly again felt the killer’s fierce eyes boring into hers. “Maybe,” she said doubtfully. “But Bayou La Siryna is a pretty small town and he got a close-up view of my face. What if I run into him on the streets? Will I have to watch my back every day for the rest of my life wondering if he’s recognized me?”
“We’ll find him first,” Jet said. “Find him and kill him.”
Shelly regarded her cousin warily. Jet’s bloodthirsty nature surfaced at the first threat of danger to her family. Once aroused, Jet was more like a tiger than a mermaid. She didn’t resemble a typical mermaid anyway with her tall, athletic body and bold brown eyes.
Lily, on the other hand, was all feminine grace and mystery. A petite but voluptuous body, golden hair to her waist and large ocean-blue eyes that could be kind with her family, coy with the men and a bit calculating with everyone else.
Lily’s eyes fixed on Shelly as she tapped her full lips with graceful fingers. “We don’t have to find him ourselves. We’ll let the police do it for us.”
Jet snickered. “They didn’t catch him the first time. What makes you think they will now?”
The first stirrings of hope warmed Shelly. “Because we’ll lead them to the killer,” she said slowly, with a slight smile at Lily. “I know where the body is and I know what he looks like.”
Jet was already shaking her head. “We can’t go to the police. No way. They’ll either think we’re the killers or that we’re some kind of accomplices. Besides, what can you tell them? Hey, I was out swimming miles from shore, alone at night, and—guess what?—I found your killer for you.”
“We can do this,” Shelly said, with more enthusiasm. “I haven’t told you the best part yet. That knife he stabbed me with? I’ve got it. Along with a hat that blew off his head. Maybe with all that, the police can find him.”
“Those local yokels? Don’t bet on it.” Jet folded her arms across her chest and sighed. “I guess it’s worth a try. But I’m still going to do some searching on my own.”
“Don’t. Please don’t,” Shelly begged. “I’ve got you both in enough danger already. This is my fault. I have to fix it.” She pictured Sheriff Angier. Remembered his intense aura and tall, lanky body that moved slowly but with deliberation and controlled energy. The few times she’d run into him at the YMCA, picking up his brother, she’d been reluctantly intrigued by him. “Besides, you’re not giving enough credit to our local law enforcement.”
Jet interrupted Shelly’s thoughts of Sheriff Angier. “Where are this hat and knife?”
“The shed.”
“I’m going to get them.” Jet dashed off, ready to take action.
“Don’t get your fingerprints on anything,” Shelly called out. “Bad enough mine are already on there.”
Lily placed a hand on top of Shelly’s head. “I’m going to get a towel for your hair, fix you a cup of chai tea and then see to that foot of yours.”
Lily’s image blurred from unexpected tears. Shelly was overcome with exhaustion as the adrenaline rush left her body. “You and Jet have been so good to me since I came here.”
“We’re lucky to have you, silly.” Lily bent over and gave her a quick hug. “If you haven’t noticed, Jet can be a real pain to live with sometimes.”
“Yeah, I kinda noticed.” Lily’s kindness lifted her spirits. “I don’t know what I would do without the two of you.”
* * *
Ten minutes later, hair wrapped and sipping chai tea, Shelly watched as Lily finished cleaning the knife wound.
“It could really use a couple of stitches, but if you’re dead set on not going to the E.R., it ought to heal okay with the butterfly bandage,” Lily said, sitting down at the table with Jet and Shelly, each wearing yellow Playtex gloves.
“I’m fine.” Shelly lifted the soggy hat Jet had placed on the table. “‘Trident Processing and Packing.’ Terrific. That’s not going to help us find him. Half the people who live here either work in the plant or have relatives who work there.”
They stared glumly at the white baseball cap with the blue Trident logo emblazoned on the front.
“It may give the police something to work with,” Lily said.
Jet picked up the stiletto knife. “This won’t. The make is mass-produced. And thanks to being in the water, I’m not sure there’s going to be fingerprints. Was he wearing gloves?”
Shelly