The wall of the boathouse that held the waterwheel broke away, taking the generator with it. Jeff dodged a support beam from the roof, and it impaled the wood-planked floor beside them. He looked out the open door of the now floating structure and saw houses along the riverbank whizzing by. “Jump!”
Emory backed away from him. “I can’t swim!”
Gripping Emory’s hand, Jeff pulled his partner through the door and forced him to jump from the crumbling boathouse into the fast-flowing river. Once Jeff’s head again rose above the chilly water, he realized his hands were empty and Emory was nowhere to be seen.
“Emory!”
He dove under the water to search, but he couldn’t spot anything through the silt. Coming up for air, he again called for his missing partner.
Emory’s hands broke through the surface and slapped at the water as his head bobbed up for air.
Jeff sprang into action, torpedoing through the dozen feet separating them. He wrapped his arms around Emory’s waist, pressing his partner’s back to his chest, and steadied him so he could breathe. Emory continued slapping at the water, prompting Jeff to try calming him. “Hey, I got you. I got you.”
Emory calmed his frantic movements and relaxed into Jeff’s embrace.
“I need you to turn around and hold on to my shoulders.”
Emory hesitated but complied. Now facing each other, Jeff could see the panic in Emory’s eyes. “I’m going to turn around, and you just keep ahold of my shoulders. I’ll swim us to the bank. Okay?”
Once Emory nodded, Jeff turned his body around so that Emory’s chest pressed against his shoulder blades. Jeff began swimming. A few minutes later, the men crawled onto the muddy ground at least ten houses down from Blair Geister’s estate.
Emory rolled over and plopped his back onto the muddy ground, the river still lapping at the soles of his size fourteen black bike-toe dress shoes. Jeff followed suit and put his hand into Emory’s. “Are you okay?”
“I’m good.” Emory squeezed Jeff’s hand. “Thank you.”
Jeff smiled. “Consider that your first swimming lesson.” He lifted his head to get a sense of their location. “We’re quite a ways down river. I’ll call Virginia to pick us up.” He took out his phone and tried in vain to call. “Damn! The water killed it.”
Emory tried with his phone. “Same here. Looks like we’re walking.”
Jeff worked his way to his feet and helped his partner to his. As the two walked along the bank, he put an arm around Emory’s shoulders. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“I tell you what. I don’t think I’ll ever step foot into one of Blair Geister’s buildings again.”
From the river bank, Virginia inspected the visible remnants of Blair Geister’s pier. The boathouse was destroyed, taking half the pier with it. She heard a noise and turned to see Jeff plodding toward her from the house, wearing only a bright-blue pair of shorts and holding something in his hands. “Did you shower already?”
Jeff walked past her. “No. Something’s bothering me.”
“What is it?”
Without answering, Jeff slipped on a pair of goggles. He ran the length of the remaining pier and lowered himself into the water.
For the next several minutes, she watched Jeff’s head break the water’s surface before disappearing again at least four times.
Sporting wet hair and fresh clothes, Emory appeared at her side. Virginia wrapped an arm around him. “Feel better after your shower?”
Emory adjusted his khakis. “Better, but I can still feel silt in places.”
“At least you two weren’t hurt.”
“Thankfully. Where’s Jeff?”
Virginia nodded toward the water, where Jeff’s head had just popped above the surface.
Jeff swam toward them and slogged onto the bank. “Most of the pilings show signs of charring about a foot from the bottom – like someone took a welding torch to them. It was only a matter of time before the river’s current snapped the wood.”
“The lights in the water,” Virginia muttered.
“I bet you’re right,” said Emory. “Sabotage.”
Jeff removed his goggles. “No question. Who would do that?”
Virginia’s eyes turned toward Edgar Strand’s property. “I have an idea.”
Jeff clenched his fists and stomped forward. “I’m going to kill him!”
Emory stepped in front of him. “You’re not confronting him.”
Jeff pointed at the ersatz boathouse. “He could’ve killed us!”
“Emory’s right. You’re too angry. I’ll talk to him, so we don’t end up with an assault charge. Why don’t you two go into town and pick up some new phones.”
“Great idea.” Emory placed a hand on Jeff’s back in an apparent effort to push him toward the house.
Jeff relaxed his hands. “Okay, but be angry at that asshole, and make sure he knows he could’ve easily been up on manslaughter charges. Twice now!”
Virginia smirked. “I’ll put on my mean face.”
Virginia knocked on Edgar Strand’s door, and fifteen seconds later, she saw his pasty face grousing at her through the peephole window. “The gargoyles are still there!”
“I haven’t been able to talk to Juniper. She’s been out of town, but she’s coming back today.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“Anyway, I’m not here about that. I wanted to warn you that you need to get your boathouse inspected. The one next door just collapsed for no apparent reason.”
Edgar scoffed. “I’ll tell you the reason. She bypassed standard regulations in the design and probably did the same when she picked the construction materials. Proves my theory that she bribed the Army Corps of Engineers to approve the permit. Thank you for the concern, but my boathouse is fine.”
Edgar started to shut the peephole, until Virginia blurted, “My partners were almost killed when it collapsed.”
He opened it again, revealing a look of concern. “There were people on it? Was anyone hurt?”
“Emory, my partner, almost drowned.” Virginia opted to embellish her answer with a lie. “He’s in the hospital now.”
Edgar dropped his eyes and paused a moment. “I have to go now.”
“Wait. I need to ask you something about water towers.”
“What do you want to know?”
“You know, it’s a bit awkward carrying on a conversation through that little door in your door. Do you mind if we talk inside?”
Edgar hesitated but relented. “Come in.”
Virginia followed Edgar to the living room. “What are water towers used for? Do they collect rainwater?”
“Some are used to store water – potable or unpotable. Most towers pressurize treated water so it can be pushed out into the community.”
Virginia motioned toward the table, to the framed picture of Edgar with the Calhoun water tower over his shoulder. “Do you take care of this town’s water tower?”
“Yes. I also built it.”
“Impressive. Do you ever have to dive into them when they’re full of water?”
“Oh yes.” Edgar responded with a proud smile. “To inspect them and sometimes for repairs.”
“Then you’re experienced at underwater welding?”
Edgar seemed to realize where Virginia’s questions were leading, and he didn’t look pleased. “I believe your time is up.”