Siren's Secret Page 17

  Jet opened her mouth to protest, but Shelly cut her off. “Go.”

  Lily gave her a quick hug and they left the den, casting anxious glances over their shoulders.

  Tillman’s face was set hard as marble. Shelly walked to him, raised a tentative hand and touched the hard plane of his jaw. But nothing in his somber eyes or rigid body softened. “How did you come to witness this, Miss Connors?”

  Shelly dropped her hand and stepped away. She’d lost him. He would never understand or forgive her for not coming forward earlier, no matter what she said or did. A chill settled in the pit of her stomach and she wrapped her arms around her waist. “I can’t tell you everything,” she whispered.

  “You can and will.”

  Just tell him you were out on a boat. Why was this so hard? She’d been lying to him from the beginning. Trouble was, she’d grown to care for and respect Tillman more with each passing day. And the more she cared, the more it hurt to lie to him. Shelly looked down at the hardwood floor, unable to meet Tillman’s penetrating glare. “I was out boating that night. I saw a man drop a large object wrapped in black plastic from the side of his boat. I was curious, so I motored over and he saw me. When he took off I pulled the object on my boat and slit it open to see what was inside.” Shelly closed her eyes; a soft moan escaped her lips as she remembered the woman’s maimed face with no eyes. Her stomach clutched with nausea and she doubled over.

  Strong, steady hands guided her to a chair. She sank into it and put her head between her knees, taking deep breaths. Tillman’s hand stayed on her back, gently stroking until she regained her composure.

  “Shelly.” His voice held the liquid depth of the ocean; it enveloped her whole body in its warmth, a comforting pool of affection she never wanted to leave. He put a hand beneath her chin and guided her face upward. “Most of what you just told me is a pack of lies—except for one thing.”

  He paused and Shelly studied his face. This was the Tillman she knew. The kindness in his eyes had returned, softened the harsh edges of his strong features. “What?” she asked in a rush of breath.

  “I believe you found China Wang’s body.”

  “I did.” She nodded, relieved he at least accepted some of her story. “I wish I hadn’t. Wish I’d never been out that night. I put all of us in jeopardy.”

  “Your cousins?”

  She hesitated and then nodded in agreement. But there was so much more at stake. If humans found out the ancient myths of mermaids were true they would all be hunted like animals. Or fish. None of them would ever be safe again.

  Tillman abruptly stood and put some distance between them. “What did you do after you supposedly—all alone—dragged this heavy body onto the boat?”

  Shit. “I...um...took it to the beach at Murrell’s Point and left it there to be found.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “All by yourself you managed to drag China’s body out of the boat and onto land?”

  “I’m strong.”

  He sighed. “Not that strong. But, moving on, explain why you’re so sure Melkie Pellerin is the killer. Supposedly, you came across him after dark. How can you be certain he’s the right man?”

  “I have very good vision.” Crap. That sounded lame even to herself.

  He regarded her silently before letting that go. “What boat did you use?”

  “We have one. Two, actually. They’re docked in our boathouse about twenty yards down the road.” She answered quickly and confidently, glad to be telling a small portion of the truth.

  Tillman’s eyes drifted to the boarded-up window behind her. “You think somehow Pellerin has discovered your identity and broken into this house.”

  “He has. Don’t you have enough physical evidence now to make him give a DNA sample?”

  “You may have destroyed any hope of a case against him by throwing that knife out the front door in the presence of one of my officers.”

  “Oh.” She looked down at her clasped hands.

  “How did you get that knife?”

  “It was...stuck on that poor woman’s body.”

  “Stop lying, damn it!” The controlled anger sprang back in Tillman’s eyes. “A killer wouldn’t leave his weapon like that. Is that really his knife or are you trying to frame Pellerin any way you can?”

  Her stomach lurched again. “It’s his. You have to believe me. He must be stopped.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to do. But you have to tell me the truth so I can bring him in. Do you really want me to drag you to the station for formal questioning? Because I’ll do whatever is needed to keep another woman from being murdered.”

  “I want him stopped, too.” For the first time tonight, Shelly was angry. Maybe she shouldn’t have gotten involved. Maybe it had all been for nothing. And maybe a half-breed like her had no business playing mermaid if she was too tenderhearted toward humans. “I’m doing the best I can, Tillman.” Her voice rose and pitched higher, frustration boiling over.

  “Not good enough.”

  Shelly stuck her hands out in front of her. “Guess you win. Go on. Handcuff me and take me in.”

  “At least I’d know you weren’t in danger, you bullheaded, maddening...” He sputtered to a stop and threw up his hands. “What am I going to do with you?”

  The spurt of anger died as quickly as it started. He still cares. She smiled, wanted to laugh in relief.

  He frowned harder. “Why are you smiling? You obviously don’t realize the trouble you’re in.”

  “I realize you must still care for me. At least a little.” Shelly stepped into his arms and laid her head on his broad chest, felt his heart beating against her cheek. He stood stiffly, unmoving for several moments before crushing her to him.

  “Damn it, Shelly.” He stepped away. “You need to trust me. I’ll protect you. But if you don’t tell me what really happened then we’ll do this the hard way.”

  “Meaning?”

  “You get to be questioned by cops who will be a lot tougher on you than me.”

  “I don’t like being threatened.”

  “And I don’t like being lied to.” His face softened a fraction. “C’mon, Shelly.”

  She wanted to. Suddenly, she didn’t know what the right thing to do was. Stay silent and keep her heritage a secret and protect her race, or tell the truth and possibly stop a killer. Either way, she would lose him.

  He sensed her hesitation.

  “Whatever you’re hiding, we’ll deal with it together. Now tell me.”

  “Can you keep a secret?”

  He didn’t jump to an immediate “yes.” “Unless it means Pellerin walks.”

  Shelly shut her eyes, considered her options. Just get it over with, the quicker the better. “Okay. I’ll do it.” She opened her eyes to meet Tillman’s steady gaze. She went to the front door, stopping at the entrance to pick up a set of keys hanging on a hook.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I have to show you. You’ll never believe it otherwise.” Shelly kept walking, her gaze on the dark waters ahead. Footsteps followed behind her.

  “Shelly.” Jet caught up to her and grabbed her arm. “Don’t do it. You’re making a huge mistake.”

  She shook off her cousin. “I’ve made up my mind.”

  “Let me get you an attorney. At least sleep on everything tonight.”

  “No.” Shelly kept walking.

  “He’ll only hurt you,” Jet said, her eyes savage.

  No, not savage—hurt. Shelly stopped. Jet knew all about betrayal and loss. “Tillman is not Perry. He’s kind and loyal with those he loves.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Can’t you see that? It won’t work.”

  “Leave us.” Tillman’s sharp voice cut through the night air.

  Jet walked off in a huff, calling over her shoulder, “We’ll be here for you when you get home.”

  Shelly didn’t look back—it was too tempting. If she did, she was afraid she’d run home, lock herself in the house and never come ou
t.

  Because once she got on that boat and jumped in the water, nothing would ever be the same.

  * * *

  “Where are we going?” Tillman shouted over the rumble of the boat cutting through dark water.

  “Farther out,” Shelly replied vaguely. All that really mattered was that it be out of sight of his officer’s binoculars. Once past the oak shoreline, Shelly drove a few extra minutes. Circling mostly, buying a little time as she worked up courage, planning the easiest way to show Tillman, yet knowing he would be shocked whatever she did. She slowed the boat and the engine’s noise decelerated.

  “Is this where you found Pellerin disposing of the victim’s body?”

  Shelly cut the motor. “No. That was probably another quarter of a mile west of here.”

  Tillman’s brows drew together. “Then why did you stop now?”

  “This spot’s as good as any.” Water lapped gently against the boat, cradling them like a lullaby. Too bad it did nothing to calm her nerves. She stared at the wide expanse of the calm gulf, stretching onward, shielding beneath it a vast unmapped underwater terrain that held the roots of her ancestry, where mermaids lived yet were pushed farther and deeper each year from man’s ever-probing eyes.

  When she had first overheard she was half-mermaid Shelly had found it hard to believe. Sure, she had the unusual ability to stay underwater indefinitely, but she’d been warned never to speak of it. Mom had tried to convince her they were special. Being mermaid was a unique aspect of herself that would add joy to her life.

  Only to realize years later that it was a curse. Life had shown that living on the boundaries of two worlds yet fully belonging to neither carried a huge burden of isolation and loneliness. Just once before had she broken silence and told a college boyfriend. They’d been partying earlier and Steve had been pretty wasted—wasted enough she chanced telling him, hoping his inebriated state might make him more accepting of the news. Alone in a hot tub, she’d even demonstrated her miraculous ability to stay underwater and not breathe.

  It had not gone well. Steve had called her a freak. Even now, the look of disgust on his face haunted her and she’d vowed never again. The next day, she told him it had all been a joke. Steve acted as if he accepted her explanation, but she’d seen the doubt in his eyes. He dumped her days afterward.

  And here she was again about to do the same. Only this time, she had to let a man see her in merform. Tillman would never believe it unless he witnessed it with his own eyes.

  “Shelly, let’s get on with this.” Tillman drummed his fingers along the dashboard. “I can’t imagine what we’re doing here.”

  Shelly went to the back of the boat and lifted the T-shirt over her head. She wore no bra. Tillman’s mouth opened slightly and then closed.

  “Not that I don’t appreciate the view, but now is hardly the time for this.”

  She unsnapped her shorts and tugged them down, watching him reluctantly admire her body.

  Her human body.

  Oh, God, this would be the last time he’d look at her body with appreciation and not disgust.

  Jump in and get this over with. Tears streamed in tracks down her cheeks. Shelly licked her lips and tasted their salty flavor. “One kiss for courage,” she said, bending forward. She cupped his head in her hands and kissed his mouth.

  I love you. Her mind silently screamed the words she wouldn’t say aloud. She hadn’t meant to fall for him, but Tillman’s strength, loyalty and kindness, combined with his intense sexual energy, made the man impossible to resist. No matter what happened next, at least Tillman might eventually appreciate that she’d helped him solve his case.

  As his hands reached to encircle her waist, Shelly stepped away and climbed to the boat’s ledge. “Whatever happens, however long I stay under, don’t worry. I’m safe.” With that cryptic advice, she pushed off and dove as far from the boat as possible.

  The ocean embraced her like a lover, caressing every inch of skin, transforming her body to please him and only him. The shift from human legs to fish tail wasn’t uncomfortable like the shifting from tail fin to legs upon land. The morphing into a creature of the sea felt natural and pleasurable. How Mom must have missed it all those married years in Indiana.

  She glanced above, saw the boat’s hull and Tillman’s dark shadow bent over its side, searching. Flicking her tail back and forth in a mermaid’s version of a dog paddle, Shelly waited. In seconds he called for her.

  “Shelly?” He stood and circled, checking all directions for a sign of her.

  She’d wait a little longer. Enough time for him to know it wasn’t humanly possible to stay underwater so long, and then she would emerge the top half of her torso, reassure him she was okay. If that was enough to convince him she was a mermaid, she would swim home while he took the boat.

  “Shelly!” His voice grew louder, the first stirrings of panic threading through the words.

  “Where are you?” Tillman raised a foot and pulled off a shoe, preparing to dive.

  No! She didn’t want him in the water where he could see the tail. She might convince Tillman of her supernatural water abilities without him seeing it. With a mighty flick of her fin, Shelly broke surface, careful to keep her lower body hidden.

  “Over here,” she yelled.

  She couldn’t see his expression this far from the boat. No doubt he was surprised how far she had swum and how long she’d stayed under. Tillman motioned for her to return.

  The next stage of her reveal would astound him even more. Still submerged from the waist down, Shelly glided toward him without swimming. Her tail swished furiously underneath, but all he saw was her body from the waist up, hands idle by her sides. Shelly imagined she must look like one of those old mermaid figureheads sailors used to mount on the bows of their sea vessels, the figurehead visibly parting the sea above the waterline. Twenty yards from the boat she stopped.

  “What the hell? How are you doing that?”

  With her enhanced night vision, his incredulous expression was clear at this range. Shelly moved nearer, taking her time, until she drew about ten feet from the boat. With the waning moon she figured the light was weak enough for her tail to remain hidden from that distance.

  “Tillman. I don’t want to scare you. But I knew if I didn’t show you, you’d never believe what I can do.”

  “It’s a trick. Got to be.”

  Of all the reactions, his calm dismissal of this as a trick wasn’t one she’d imagined. “There’s no trick. What do I have to do to convince you?”

  He waved her closer. “Come on. I’ll figure this out.”

  Damn. He was too stubborn. There was no hope for it—he’d have to see the tail. She swam up to the boat. “Now do you believe it’s not a trick?”

  Tillman bent a little farther over the boat, straining to see. “I can’t make out what’s underneath you.”

  “Tillman,” she pleaded. He was going to make her say the words. “I’m a...uh...mermaid.”

  He drew up and folded his arms. “Okay, joke’s over. Get back on the boat. I don’t have time for this shit.”

  “No!” She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Let him see her flop around on the boat seat while she waited for her legs to form? No way. “Will you believe me if I swim home while you drive the boat back?”

  He gaped at her before snapping his mouth shut. “I’m not leaving you alone out in the ocean.”

  She considered turning tail and swimming home. But if she did, they’d be right back where they started—Tillman not understanding how she had found the killer and she still remaining a target of the killer.

  Shit. She had no choice. But she would keep her eyes closed until the legs formed. She refused to watch the revulsion and shock on his face as he witnessed the shift. Shelly grabbed on to the boat’s side and with a strong grip, pulled herself into the boat’s backseat, immediately rolling her face downward to avoid Tillman’s eyes.

  Nerve synapses twisted and pulsed, rending it
s usual pain. Shelly muffled her groans. This pain would be nothing next to facing Tillman’s rejection. Pain lessened to a mere tingling in her legs, as if they had been numbed and were reawakening. Inch by slow inch, Shelly raised her eyes.

  Tillman staggered backward in stunned belief. His mouth was parted slightly, eyes bewildered. He shook his head as if to obliterate what he’d seen.

  Shelly stood and held out her hands. “I’m so sorry.” She leaned toward him and he jerked back so far his body was pinned against the steering wheel.

  “It’s still me—Shelly.”

  He worked his mouth and cleared his throat. “No.” His voice was gruff. “No,” he repeated, harsh and cold, anger replacing shock.

  Shelly dropped her hands.

  “I don’t know who you are anymore.”

  She flinched, waited for the insults to pound down like hammer blows. Freak, animal, unnatural, cursed. Instead, he sat down and started the ignition. The boat lurched forward and she tumbled into the backseat. The roar of the motor and the white foam churning in its wake as they sped to land matched the storm thundering in her heart.

  It was so unfair. She wanted to scream and rail and whine like a five-year-old. If only she hadn’t come across Melkie. He’d ruined everything.

  The boat slowed and she cringed, not wanting to get out and see that cold look on his face again. He tied the boat to the dock, avoiding her completely. Shelly took a deep breath and commandeered as much pride and dignity as possible. Since he didn’t offer a hand, she got out of the boat on her own and climbed up on the small wooden dock. At last he finished securing the boat. He joined her on the dock, pocketed the keys and walked toward the house. She fell into step beside him.

  “Who else?” He spoke suddenly, his voice taut.

  “Wh-what?”

  “Are there more mermaids in Bayou La Siryna?” He waved a hand in disgust. “Besides your cousins.”