Chapter 18
“So, about that whole brewery fiasco,” Lulu said, moving half-eaten food containers aside. “Obviously found nothing. But is
it worth going back?”
“Paige may be onto a new trail,” Seb said. “Show them what you found.”
I pulled the book about Haven Beach from my bag and leafed through it until I found the right place, then laid it on the table
for everyone to see. “Downtown was once called Three Corners. Check it out . . .”
Everyone bent over the book, but it was Benny who pulled it closer. “I’ve heard old people in Bean’s calling it ‘the Corners’—but
I always thought they meant that roundabout intersection by the brewery.”
Seb grunted. “They do. Look. Here it is in 1918,” he tapped on a historical photo printed on the page. It was where Main Street
crossed Tembly Avenue, one of the other big streets that ran through town and stopped at the river next to the brewery. At
that intersection was Haven Beach’s one and only roundabout. In the center of the roundabout’s grassy median stood an American
flag, and at the base of the flagpole was a plaque embedded into the grass. The flag and plaque were still there today.
“What’s that memorial for?” Lulu asked.
“It’s not a memorial,” Benny said. “It’s a time capsule.”
“Cornerstone of Haven Beach,” Jaz elaborated. “Something the town erected when they went from a township to an incorporated
town.”
“In 1930,” I confirmed, telling them what I’d learned in the book. “First we were Three Corners in the 1800s—barely a village.
Then we were Haven Corners. Then Haven Beach.”
“If that time capsule was buried in 1930, Wyrd Jack was in prison most of that year,” Seb said.
I nodded. “He died at the end of the year.”
“If Mabel was the one who hid the Golden Venus and the clues to find it,” Seb mused, “she might’ve been doing it in early
1930. The stock market had already crashed, and people were coming out of the woodwork to harass her for locations to Wyrd
Jack’s smuggling hauls.”
“Shit!” Benny tapped on his phone screen. He pulled up the secret photo of Mabel and Wyrd Jack that Jaz had found in the Black
Book—we’d texted it to him when he was arranging for us to get into the brewery—and pinched the screen to blow it up. “I remember
spotting this when you sent it, Seb. Look.” He held out his phone to show us what he’d blown up in the corner of the photo—in
the distance was the flagpole that stood over the time capsule plaque. “Literally in the corner of the photo.”
“Shit!”
Jaz tossed her sunglasses on the table. “I don’t know, guys. Sounds to me like something buried in the ground might be considered
‘deep.’”
“Deep in the Three Corners,” I said.
We all looked around the table at one another, smiles popping up.
“Wow!” Lulu said. “You really think we’ll find something there? Let’s go dig it up!”
Benny shook his head. “We’d all be arrested on the spot, Lu. You can’t destroy a public memorial in broad daylight.”
“Gotta be stealthy about it,” Seb agreed.
“This might be another midnight job,” I said, excitement coming over me. “We’ll need shovels and probably something else to
get under that plaque. Anyone got digging tools?”
“It’s really out in the open, guys,” Benny pointed out. “Even at four a.m. there’s still the occasional car passing through.
If we decide to pursue this, we’re going to need some kind of cover.”
What that was, we didn’t know.
But after some further excited discussion, we ended up temporarily putting the plan on the back burner while folks stripped
down to bathing suits and raced for the water.
We were all water people: swimming would give us clarity.
At least, my hazy head sure thought so, until Seb took off his shoes and marina T-shirt. I knew I stared too long at his chest.
I couldn’t help it. I felt I’d been trapped in a convent all year and this was the first bare male flesh I’d seen. And as
I tugged off my own clothes, I felt self-conscious, worrying about my bathing suit choice. I mean, it wasn’t SpongeBob, thank
God, but it wasn’t a two-piece, either, because I hated how the bottoms always looked on me. As I scolded myself for even
caring, I set to work smearing myself with waterproof sunblock and glanced up just in time to catch Seb’s gaze roving down
my legs. When his eyes flicked to mine, he immediately looked away. No teasing comment, no wink, no nothing.
Huh. I didn’t know what to do with that. But as I turned to head to the edge of the dock, I spotted Lulu watching us. Had she
noticed me gawking over Seb’s body?
Maybe I was paranoid.
Just forget it and have a good time.
Jumping off Benny’s dock into the Little River was something I must’ve done a thousand times over the years. But the dive
I took that afternoon felt better than any of them. It was hot enough outside to warm the water to a near-perfect temperature,
and this section of the river was unpolluted and clear. Tall trees hung over the riverbanks, creating a dappled patchwork
of light that was calming and peaceful. And there was no one else around. All the other neighboring docks were empty while
their owners were at work.
Almost better than swimming in the lake.
Almost.
Benny threw out a couple of inner tubes, which we fought over, whooping and laughing. The girls decided Jaz deserved one on
account of her arm, but we just couldn’t hoist her up on it without multiple attacks of the giggles.
It didn’t take long for the boys to dare each other to dive off the top deck of the dock—something that was illegal in our
town after a kid died doing it in the nineties. But that never stopped Seb or Benny before, and it didn’t now. It was way
too far up, and I refused, but it was exciting to watch Seb and his feline, muscled body leap into the air like a daredevil
and crash into the water below, covering the back half of the dock in spray.
Glorious. All of it. I hadn’t laughed so hard in a long time.
After a time, the group splintered, with Lulu and Jaz settling on chaise longues on the upper deck, and Benny and Seb playing fetch with Punkin, throwing sticks into the river that she happily retrieved.
I watched them for a while, laughing, until someone Benny knew from down the block showed up to chat, and he didn’t go to school with us, so I didn’t know him.
So as Benny and his friend climbed to the top dock to sit with the girls, I hung back in the water.
Where Seb had gone to, I didn’t know. The fact that we hadn’t really said much to each other the past hour or so made me anxious.
You’re being silly . . . Maybe I should just focus on the fact that we might have a new lead for Mabel’s clue and stop thinking about him. Besides,
maybe I should just head up to the top deck with the others; my arms and legs ached because I hadn’t really used any of these
muscles this year at school. I swam around to a side ladder on the dock and started to climb when I spotted the rope hammock.
Benny’s father installed it years ago: a knotted rope hammock that hung between the dock and a round post that had been driven
into the riverbed. The hammock itself hung taut, just over the water, so when you got inside it and stretched out, your weight took it just under the water. Your body floated in and out of the river while you lazily stared at the tree tops swaying in the breeze above.
Absolute pleasure.
I climbed into the hammock and lay back, letting the river gently flow over me, closing my eyes to bright, warm sun on my
face. Music still blared from the lower deck of the dock, and I could occasionally hear distant laughter from the group lounging
up top, but I couldn’t see them.
A nearby splash jerked my eyes open. Seb swam through the water and disappeared underneath the surface. I tracked him for
a bit, then he disappeared.
Only to emerge right next to the hammock.
“Jesus!” I complained, secretly thrilled to see him.
“Boo.” He ducked his head underwater to slick back his hair, holding on to the edge of the hammock. “Remember when we found a soggy diaper caught in the rope?”
“I hadn’t, no. Thanks for ruining a good thing. You aren’t up there trading stories with Brad, or whoever that guy is?”
“No, thanks. He said he’d be taking off soon, good riddance.” He settled his arms on the edge of the hammock and peered down
at me, his gaze roaming over my black bathing suit.
“You’re going to capsize me if you keep pulling on it.”
His eyes sparkled mischievously. For a moment, I went rigid because I expected him to try to tip me into the river. Instead,
he stopped paddling with his legs and let himself float on his stomach, then he glided up and over the edge of the hammock,
grabbing rope near my head to aid him. In one fluid movement, he hoisted himself atop me.
“What are you doing?” I said in a panic, glancing around his head to see if anyone on the upper deck was watching. They weren’t.
We were alone for the moment.
“Oh, lookie here,” Seb said, dripping water in my face. “I’ve caught me a real, live mermaid in a net.”
“If you don’t want anyone to know what we’ve been doing, this is not the way,” I said, taking another glance at the dock.
“I never said I didn’t want anyone to know.” He shifted his position, and water lapped between us. My torso was almost all
the way below the surface. “Wait. Know what, exactly?”
I didn’t answer.
One corner of his mouth curled up.
“Interesting,” he said, and with a grunt, he pushed himself off the hammock and dove under the water.
I moved around to track his movements and spotted him swimming below the hammock as I felt his hand deliberately trail over the backs of my thighs.
I squealed and covered my mouth, glancing up nervously at the top deck.
But Seb turned in the water and returned.
This time, when he mounted the hammock, he held himself above me, breathing heavy and laughing.
“Hey,” he said, face glistening. “Maybe we should just go try the time capsule by ourselves tonight. More people attract more
attention.”