Deep Betrayal Page 0,41

said as her pupils dilated. “And I would be a fool to give it to you.”

I jabbed Calder hard in the ribs, but he didn’t break eye contact with her. “Not me. But Lily’s feeling better now. She’s got the whole summer, and she needs to make some money for school.”

“We’re just here as customers,” I said.

Mrs. Boyd noticed me for the first time. “That’s good. I’ve been shorthanded. You’re all better, Lily?”

“Much, but …”

“You can start back up tomorrow.”

“Lily would love that,” Calder said.

What the heck? Was he trying to keep me busy and out of trouble? Didn’t I tell him I had things I was working on?

“For now, you two go sit down,” Mrs. Boyd said. “I’ll make you your usuals. Caramel mocha latte and a double espresso?”

“Perfect,” Calder said as he turned me toward the multicolored tables and chairs. We took our seats by the window.

I scowled at him and hissed, “I don’t need a job.”

His eyes sparkled with suppressed laughter as he picked up a copy of the Ashland Gazette that lay on the windowsill. With his other hand he fiddled with the purple fringe on the scarf I’d tied around my waist.

When Mrs. Boyd returned with our drinks, he was already finished with the cover story, and his mood had obviously dampened.

“Rip current, my ass,” he said flipping the newspaper over to read the conclusion on the back page.

“What is it?”

“Two more. This time kids on WaveRunners.”

I scooted my chair around and read over his arm. “Why are they always so young?” I asked.

“Listen.” Calder read aloud. “Marie Bauer and Elly Cook, recent graduates of Washburn High School, were out in Chequamegon Bay Wednesday afternoon with a group of friends when they were knocked off their WaveRunners. The girls were saved by a vigilant family who was watching from the beach. It is believed that rip currents, which have been persistent risks over the last few weeks, were the cause of the accident. The students, however, claimed to have seen a dark shape in the water shortly before, and they believe they were the victims of an animal attack, raising questions of other large fish in the lake like the specimen found weeks ago.”

Calder crumpled the newspaper and pushed it away. “I guess I was wrong. Maris and Pavati aren’t a million miles away after all.”

“You don’t know that,” I said. “It could’ve really been a rip current.”

“Chequamegon Bay is Maris’s favorite hunting grounds.”

“But I still don’t understand. If it’s Maris and Pavati, why are all these people getting away?”

Calder looked over at me, and I could tell he was wondering how much he should say.

“I’m in this,” I said, my voice rising. “Don’t keep secrets from me.”

“Lily, I don’t want to fight.” He pressed his fingers to his temples.

“Why are they all getting away?” I said softly, taking his hands in mine.

He exhaled. “Maris and Pavati’s attacks are coming too close together. That’s bad. But now they’ve let four escape? That’s really, really bad.”

That still seemed backward to me, but this time I didn’t interrupt him when he tried to explain.

“They’ve gone too long without a kill and it’s throwing their timing off. They’re slow and … Back when … back when your dad was the target … Maris had us on strict instructions to pace ourselves. I was already at the end of my line when I started stalking—” He cut himself short and made an apologetic face. “Pavati slipped once. But as far as I know, Maris has had only one kill since the migration. She’s got to be seriously depleted.

“Now you add to that Tallulah’s death, and … Lily, I’ve seen Maris miserable, enraged, manic even, but the other day on your beach—that was full-on despair.”

“Yeah, but, Calder, I still don’t understand. Even if their timing is off, they still managed to pull those people out of their kayaks and off WaveRunners. Why didn’t they finish the job?”

“That’s what I’m trying to explain. Their timing is off from lack of practice and because their minds are overwhelmed by despair and grief. Bad timing equals a bad kill.”

“A bad kill?” I asked. It seemed a little redundant.

“If they can’t make the kill quick enough, their prey sees what’s coming. If the target gets scared, its emotions sour.”

“And absorbing negative emotion …,” I said.

“Panic, fear, God forbid, terror … when you’re already in the emotional toilet.… They’re not ‘finishing the job,’ so to speak, because a bad kill will only make things worse