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“WHERE DID HE GO?” PIKE interrogates me. It’s the second day in a row and I admit it was not fun sleeping in a jail cell.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sheriff,” I say trying to keep my cool despite the fact the only clothes they could put me in was a tight, red, stretchy miniskirt and matching tube top probably leftover by a hooker.
“Goddamnit, Shelley!” Pike yells slamming his hands against the hard-cold surface of the metal table. “This isn’t a fucking joke! And if I didn’t know your family’s history of mental issues, I’d—”
“What are you talking about?” I ask. “What about my mental health? I’m not crazy!”
“You broke a man out of jail because you think he’s half a fish.”
“What?” I ask trying to sound surprised, although I am a little surprised. I’m betting it was Athena who could not keep her mouth shut.
Pike slams his fist on the table. “I don’t know what the hell is going on in your head, but I really thought the whole merpeople bullshit was over with when your aunt died. Now, I got two women believing in mermen and I’m starting to think this whole John Doe, prison break, all of it, is some kind of hoax you’ve been planning.”
Dumb bitches! They both confessed and although it’s the truth, it does sound crazy.
Pike leans in closer over the table of the interview room and stares me down. “I’m telling you right now, Shelley. I liked your aunt. She had a few loose screws, but she was harmless. It’s also unfortunate we were never able to find your parents and I can only suspect that type of loss can really mess up a kid. But I don’t like being made a fool of, especially as the sheriff in my town. I don’t care how gorgeous those fair, long legs of yours are or how lenient I should be to someone who probably has some type of inherited psychosis, but I’m not fucking around when I say I want the asshole who probably took advantage of you on the beach then likely hit you to make you forget about it and now has you so confused you’re willing to strip naked and lie for him! I’m telling you,” says Sheriff Pike as he walks around the table and yanks my chair hard to face him that I nearly get whiplash. He puts his irate, flushed face in front of mine as he grabs the handles to my chair, flexing his biceps under a short-sleeved gray shirt until his veins bulge, and he snarls, “You need to come clean and tell me the fucking truth, right now!”
The heat of Pike’s breath enters my mouth and I swallow. “He’s a merman.”
Pike sighs as he rubs his hand over his gaping mouth and stands upright. “You really should be ashamed of yourself, Shelley,” he says, relocating his hands to his hips, making it hard not to notice his gun. “There’s so much about this guy that points to something not right about him. Plus, there’s evidence of him on your parent’s boat, so I don’t understand how you can protect him. Don’t you want answers?” he whines.
In truth, I had forgotten. On the boat, Blue acknowledged he knew something about my missing parents, but I was too captivated by the allure of Blue’s mysticism and mysteriousness after he rescued me from a shark, not to mention from myself, that I didn’t get the chance to question him about my parents.
Pike leans down over me again, allowing his veins to bulge once more as he grabs onto the handles of the chair. His hot breath blows across my face, but this time his eyes are studying me. He looks at my forehead then follows my cheeks down to my chin before his eyes dip down to look at my breasts.
I cough and he looks me back in the eye. “I can see why your father was so in love with your mother. I knew she was quite brilliant, but he stuck by her side after she lost her mind. I think he loved her even more then.” Pike sighs as he studies my face one more time. “I can see something is going on inside that pretty little head of yours and it just makes me so damn curious,” he says licking his lips.
There’s a knock at the door. “Sheriff?” asks the deputy, poking his head in.
The sheriff stands erect, keeping his eye on me. “I told you not to disturb us,” Pike replies.
“I think we may have found our John Doe. Some zoology students were tracking and tagging sharks outside of the bay and say they spotted a man swimming naked towards shore. From their description, I believe it’s our guy.”
“Get up,” says Pike, grabbing my arm. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this, so you’re coming with me.”
“She’s not going anywhere with you,” says a tall, husky black man with a bald head and round belly, which he uses to barge in through the door.
“Ah, fuck,” Pike curses as Darius Grady, who is not only the public defender but also the only lawyer residing in our town, sits in the chair across from me causing Pike to growl. “What the hell are you doing here? Have you been tracking police business again with all your radio gadgets?”
“No!” Darius exclaims with wide eyes, which makes it obvious he’s lying and he opens a folder then begins to spread documents across the table. “I’m here to see my client, who you’re going to release because you have no reason to keep Shelley here. In fact, I recall seeing the two of you together at the Booty Festival the other night and I can’t help but feel suspicious about the intentions you have with Shelley Morae.” Darius clears his throat. “I mean with the prisoner.”
“Damn it, Darius!” shouts Pike.
“Boss,” interrupts the deputy. “We gotta go if we want to make sure we get this guy in our custody before someone else does.”
Pike looks at me and shakes his head. “Fine, Mr. Grady. She’s free to go, but make sure she understands she’s not allowed to leave town and if anything happens to her, she’s your responsibility.”
“I’ll take good care of my client, Sheriff. Thank you very much,” says Darius, winking at me.
Pike and the deputy leave and I fix my chair to face Darius, but he doesn’t say anything. I watch as he stacks each of the papers he spread out just a moment ago. I’m so confused as he places the papers back in the folder and I notice his palms.
“Wait!” I say and reach forward to grab Darius’s hand, pulling it to me and opening his fingers to look at his palm. “You have the mystic’s triangle in your palm. It means you’re a witch, but it’s upside down.”
Darius gives me the oddest, most inquisitive look. I hesitate and force a fake laugh. “My aunt taught me these crazy things. She tried to teach me to read palms. It’s ridiculous, right? Hand reading?”
“Honestly, I’m intrigued,” says Darius. “What does it mean if the triangle is upside down?”
“I don’t want to insult you,” I say trying to laugh it off.
“You could hardly do such a thing,” laughs Darius with me. “So, tell me what it says.”
I try to smile pleasantly as I report what I see. “It means that if you are a witch, you deal in the dark arts and—”
“You sound a lot like your aunt, Shelley. Next thing, I bet you’ll be telling me I’m in disguise,” Darius laughs, but I’m not laughing because that is, indeed, what I was about to say.
Plus, Darius has an odd laugh; it’s rather high-pitched and almost sinister, more like a witch’s cackle.
“I thought you didn’t believe in all that hocus pocus,” Darius continues. “You know, this isn’t the first time I’ve had to come down to the station to bail out a member of your family for behaving like a crazy person so I highly suggest you keep these things to yourself.” Darius stands up and as he grabs the folder, and I notice a scar on the outside of his hand in the shape of an “L” that looks more like he’s been branded. It matches the brand on the slave drawn in Athena’s book, so I lean back in my chair to create some distance between us.
I hear a crack of thunder pierce through the sky as Darius speaks. “You’re free to leave, Shelley,” he says and looks at me with bulging eyes. “Unless you’d like to stay, but I’d hate to see a good woman held captive for no reason against her will. That’s a true crime, don’t you think?”
Thunder cracks overhead once more and I nod in agreement.
Darius allows his big round belly to lead him out the door and as he leaves, I look at my palms; there are three spaces in my lifeline running from my middle finger down to the center of my wrist. Three times, my lifeline says I would come near death. The scrapes I have are near healing. I figure those are from the first time, which I can’t remember, but I did end up in the hospital and I know it has something to do with Blue. The second time must’ve been the time Blue and I faced the shark. Nevertheless, the third time is yet to come and something tells me Blue is going to be involved in that somehow as well.
I stand up and glance down at the outfit I’m wearing and laugh at myself. I’m a lot older than how I am depicted, but I’m dressed as I am in Aunt Cora’s painting, Catch of the Earth, that hangs in the beach house. She made sure I could always see it, even in the mirror if my back was turned towards it. The psychic old bitch made sure I’d always see myself in a teensy red tube top and skirt as she predicted.
And I predict it’s time to go catch that fish.
