Hell's Bell (Lizzie Grace 2)

It was only at the point where I’d heard the loud splash and seen the ripples spreading out across the still, dark water that I stopped.

“Have you lost the trail?” Roger immediately asked.

“No.”

“Then why do we stop?”

“Because the trail leads into the water.”

“Ah.” He contemplated the lake for a moment. “At what point of the shoreline does your talent suggest you enter?”

My gaze shot to him. “I’m not entering that lake at any point.”

“Nor did I mean to suggest that,” he said. “Show me where.”

The sensations emanating from the pendant were becoming fainter, the diamond cooler, despite the heat of my grip. I pressed the stone deeper into my palm, trying to eke out an exact location. After a moment, I walked to the bank’s edge and said, “Right here.”

He stopped beside me, his gaze sweeping the dark, still water. “How deep is this lake?”

“I have no idea. Nor do I have any idea whether this is merely a false lead. It’s entirely possible that Marlinda simply tossed something of hers into the lake.”

“And there is no way to uncover if that might be the case?”

“No. As I said, psychometry isn’t always reliable.”

He sighed and then stripped off his shoes and socks, and rolled up his pants. His legs were thin, bony, and white. Very white. Obviously, his mistress wasn’t the only one who avoided sun exposure.

He waded carefully into the water. Mud stirred, blooming around his ankles and concealing the glow of his feet. He inched farther in, carefully sweeping the lake’s bottom with each foot before taking the next step. The water slowly climbed past his ankles and up his calves. I wondered how far he’d be willing to go—and if he even had a choice in the matter.

He slowly moved deeper; the bloom of mud got thicker, and every step sent bigger waves rolling away.

One of those waves very briefly revealed a flash of red.

“Did you see that?” I asked.

“I did.” His voice was cool, without emotion. “It might not be who we seek though.”

I had no idea who that comment was aimed at—his mistress or me.

It didn’t really matter either way.

He took two more steps, and then stopped. “My toes have just touched something.”

I crossed my arms against the chill racing across my skin. “It might be wise to call the rangers before we do anything further.”

“No. Not until we are sure what it is we’ve found. It’s pointless getting involved with an investigation if we have found nothing more than a discarded dress.”

While that flash of red had undoubtedly been a dress, we both knew what else was down there—Marlinda’s body.

And the part of me that was inclined to guilt certainly didn’t want to know if I might have been able to save her life last night if I’d only done a more thorough investigation of that splash.

He reached a hand down into the water and, after a second or two, grunted and tugged something upright.

That something was a red dress.

A red sparkly dress.

Inside of it was a woman.