Liquid Lies Part 6

"Yes and no," Lucas replied. "That's just phase one, where they'll use the vacant lots for extra parking and a helipad. But phase two will be west of the pediatric center."

I felt a sinking feeling in my gut. "West? There's no vacant land to the west." What in the h.e.l.l was going on? Why didn't Ken tell me about it?

"No, there isn't." Fisting his hand in front of his mouth Lucas burped. "That means they would have to plow down a couple of blocks of houses to build. Within the next year, they plan to buy up the houses and tear them down."

My heart raced. Estelle and I lived four blocks west of the pediatric center. "How many houses, and how far west?"

Lucas chugged the rest of his beer, and put the mug down on the bar. "They're talking about three, four city blocks, out past Elm Avenue."

A wave of wooziness overcame me. Holding the bar, I steadied myself.

Mark's voice rose to a high pitch. "CiCi, your house!"

I shook my head and drooped over. Estelle's letter today. Not immigrant romaine. I whispered, "Eminent domain." That must be why Hazel is forming a group.

My friends offered me sympathy and a few swear words interspersed the heightened conversation.

Mark patted my back. "It'll be fine, I know it."

No doubt about it now. This day had won the crown, sash and bouquet of roses for the most awful day of my life. I felt numb.

Lucas walked over and slung an arm around me. "Kiddo, don't worry. I'll dig up more information on it, check around the office and see if I can find out any more, okay? I'll call you if I have anything."

"Estelle got a letter from a lawyer," I said.

There was not one more thing I could handle today.

Mark chimed in, "Why not ask Ken? He works there. Wouldn't he know about the hospital's plans and give you an idea of what's going on? "

I finished my beer and set the mug on the bar. "You'd think."

A much older woman in a too-short denim skirt and knee high red cowboy boots pulled Lucas to the dance floor and began kissing him as they swayed to the music. The music from the band grew louder as the night wore on.

Glancing at my cell phone, I saw it was after ten o'clock. Shoot. "I have to go."

"I'm waiting here in case Francesca shows up again. Catch you tomorrow," Mark said.

I hugged him. The blackmailer could've followed me here, and be waiting to kill me. "I love you. Just know that if anything happens that I had no choice. Okay?"

Mark furrowed his brows. "What are you talking about? You know you've been acting really bizarre today."

"I can't tell you. I had to do it. There were no other options." No choice years ago at the truck stop, and no choice now paying off a blackmailer.

My cell rang. Ken's number shone in the screen. I punched a b.u.t.ton and held it close to my ear. "h.e.l.lo?"

"Babe, are you okay? I've been here ten minutes. Where are you?" Ken asked.

"I'm so sorry. I'm on my way." I clicked off.

Maybe I needed to let Ken know there was a blackmailer, because of a death I'd caused four years ago. Wouldn't he be able to help me out of this mess? But then again, the 'for better or worse' part didn't apply when I was only engaged, did it? But I also was p.i.s.sed that he may have already known about the eminent domain, and failed to tell me that my home was going to be destroyed.

Once outside, I b.u.t.toned up my sweater against the nippy night air. The fresh smell of the air was a relief from the beer stench in the bar. I jogged over to the pavilion to meet Ken. He wanted to ride in his new boat, but now I had more pressing issues for tonight.

I was so over my head it felt like I was drowning again.

Chapter Eight.

"I don't know if this is such a great idea," I said to Ken as he idled his speedboat, readying it to leave the pavilion's dock. "We have to talk. First you need to tell me what you know about phase two. Second, my life may change soon and you need to know some things. About what's going on in my life. Some bad things."

He shook his head. "CiCi, I can't hear you too well. Can we do this later? After my twelve hour s.h.i.+ft, I just want to unwind and have some fun."

Ken had ordered his custom boat six months ago. Maybe I shouldn't spoil his night. Under my breath I said, "I don't want Estelle to lose her house. And Francesca is back and I really don't mean to hurt anyone, but we had to do what we did and..."

He stood over the steering wheel, "What did you say, hurt who? Are you okay? How much did you drink?"

I wrapped my arms around myself, and plopped into the seat next to him. "I'm not drunk. I'm in trouble. Francesca is in trouble too. I have to come clean."

He revved the engine put his hand to his ear and shook his head. "Babe, I'm sorry but I still can't hear you very well. Can we talk more later?"

I strained to hear what he said. But he was right, between hum of the engine and the crash of the waves, it was difficult to have a decent conversation.

It didn't matter anymore. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. I rubbed my temples, my headache was starting to return.

Ken pointed at the stern of the boat. He reduced the throttle, perhaps in an attempt to be heard. "Let's enjoy the maiden run of my new toy. Can you undo the line, so I can navigate us out of here?"

After untying the mooring line then pus.h.i.+ng off from the dock, I sat back down in the captain seat next to Ken.

He steered the boat out from the dock. His short blonde hair was blown back in the wind. His navy Hilfiger windbreaker rustled in the breeze. "She's a beauty. Do you like her name?" he shouted as he advanced the throttle.

Earlier in the day, I had seen the name painted in gold on the back, I Sea You. "Good double meaning. Acronymic for Intensive Care Unit too."

"I knew you'd get it." He smiled. "What do you say we see how fast she can go?"

I grimaced. "I really don't think we should. It's late and maybe just a short slow cruise around the lake would be better."

The roar of the engine was deafening as it rang in my ears. I gave up trying to talk to him. At least I'd tried. But I was sure that when I was in jail, it would be solid grounds for him to dump me as a fiance. How did my life get so messed up? It was fine until Francesca showed up again. My motto was: keep the past in the past. Stirring it up, like Francesca had done, was completely messing up my motto.

Ken headed for the middle of the lake. "Hold on!" He kicked the engine to full throttle.

My head snapped back as I gripped the dashboard. "Hey, don't you think we should slow down?" I asked.

He shouted over the roar of the engine, "Please, relax. Let's do a lap or two."

I held onto the dashboard. My hair came out of the ponytail and flipped around my face. My head felt leaden with worry as we rode around the lake. Looking over at the sh.o.r.eline, I saw the Pike's mansion. Someone was standing on the dock. It was too far away to get a good look as Ken whooshed by.

An hour went by, I was done and wanted Ken to turn around and head back. I yelled over the engine's clatter. "You know, now that you've tried it out, what do you say we head back? Take it for a longer ride another time?"

"Sure Babe." He stood over the steering wheel. "Just after one more lap. Okay?"

I nodded. I had to let him have his thrill with his new boat. At least he could remember me as being agreeable. The moon shone down creating silver glitters, which sparkled on the dark water. The boat plowed huge wakes as Ken zipped across the lake. I surveyed the area. We were about a mile from the pavilion's dock. Holding onto the side of the boat to steady myself, I bounced up and down in the seat with each wave.

A thud jolted me out of my seat. The boat had struck something. I grabbed Ken's jacket. "Stop!" I darted my eyes scanning the water. "What did we hit?"

Ken spun the boat around. He slowed it to an idle, and motioned for me to stand next to him and hold onto the steering wheel. I grabbed it, holding on so tight my knuckles turned white.

Ken went to the stern and looked over one edge, then another. "I don't see anything."

"But we did hit something!" I shouted.

"Driftwood?" Ken added.

"It sounded big," I said. The pounding in my heart was almost audible.

"Probably just a log," Ken said.

"No. It was-- I don't know. Heavier sounding. Sort of solid and big like a thick log," I said. My eyes darted around the boat.

"Maybe a buoy? They come loose and float out into the middle of the lake." He walked around, looking over the sides of his boat. "I don't see anything. Whatever it was, it didn't damage my boat."

"Is that all you're worried about? Your d.a.m.ned boat? My G.o.d, people are losing their houses, some people are going to jail for murder. Really? Your freaking boat?" I shrieked. Yes. I had lost control.

Ken said as he held me, "I should've given you a Prozac and forced you to rest today. You're really going off the deep end."

I twirled out of his hug. "Yes I am. You have no idea."

There was a loud b.u.mp. We both stopped.

I looked over the side of the boat. Spotting something that looked like a large floating clump of string attached to a ball, I leaned over the side to take a closer look. "Ken, I see something."

He stood next to me, and asked, "Where?"

"Over there." I motioned toward a shadowy dark area in the water.

The waves were knocking whatever it was up against the boat.

Thud.

Splash.

Thud.

Splash.

Leaning, I bent over and pointed at the floating object. "Can you tell what it is?"

"Let me reposition the boat so that I can s.h.i.+ne the headlights on it."

When Ken pulled around, and the headlight shone on the water, I saw what it was as the beam of light reached the floating object.

I gasped for air.

In the water, its tangled hair wrapped around a log, Francesca's decapitated head bobbed up and down.

Her lifeless eyes stared into the sky.

Chapter Nine.

"CiCi, let's keep moving," Ken said as he a.s.sisted me out of the boat. "I want to help you get your bearings. Reorient you. It's Friday, eleven forty five at night. You were on a boat with me, your fiance Ken Wilson. We're back at Round Lake's pavilion dock. I need you to take slow deliberate breaths."

A small groan escaped as I tried to hold my wobbly legs steady. I knew where I was, I just didn't want to think about what I'd seen.

Ken had his arm under mine, guiding me along as we walked onto the dock. I remembered that he'd called the police before we got off the boat. Sirens in the distance punctuated the cool, quiet night.

My head throbbed. "What happened?" I whispered as I stared into s.p.a.ce. Ken pulled me along to a bench near the pavilion. My whole body felt light, as if it floated.

"You fainted," Ken said as he helped me sit.

An image materialized in my mind. Francesca's head bobbing in the lake. Jerking forward, I dry heaved onto the gra.s.sy area next to the bench.

"You'll feel better soon," Ken rubbed my back.

I s.h.i.+vered as I sat up. Just a while ago, Francesca was fighting with me, and now she was dead. What happened, was it an accident? Murder? In a soft raspy voice I asked, "What about Francesca?"

"The police will handle that now. Try not to think about it. Really, I'm so sorry. I know you were once best friends." Ken touched my shoulder and shook his head. "You've had a h.e.l.l of a day."

I closed my eyes as tears streamed down. I feared my h.e.l.l had only begun.

"I'm Detective Wurkowski." He stood over me, hand stretched out for a shake.

Resting my head in my hands, my elbows propped in my lap. "Hi." I shook his hand.

"Do you need an ambulance?" Detective Wurkowski asked.

"I've already called them and they're on the way. She's in shock," Ken said. He introduced himself and shook Detective Wurkowski's hand.