Chapter 32
BERNIE
There was only one solution.
“We’ll put her in the lake.” Bernie had thought about it carefully, her surgical mind plotting the cleanest cuts in the fabric of reality. “You know those maps downstairs? I think we can use them to locate a spot where we can sink her body deep. Bodies in cold water decompose at a rate that is—”
Marta interrupted with a groan. “Je-sus.”
“Save it for church, Marta,” snapped Imogen. “You agreed, right? Just because you were the last one on board doesn’t mean you have some kind of moral high ground.”
“Let’s go.” Bernie turned on her heel and headed for the stairs, confident the others would follow.
In the dining room, she approached the wall of maps and took her time studying each one.
“Okay, this one here.” She pointed at a large image blotched with blues and greens.
“This one’s a depth map. And our cottage—oh look, Rick helpfully circled it—is right here.
” She pointed to Snakebite Island. “I think we’re looking for this area right here.
” She tapped on a spot in the upper left quadrant.
“It looks like that’s the deepest area we can reasonably access from our location.
That other map is currents, and I think they should be favourable to us based on where we want to drop her.
” Bernie turned to face Imogen and Marta. “What do you think?”
Imogen nodded grimly. “I think it’s the best we’re going to be able to do.”
“How long did it take you to come up with this?” Marta asked, arms akimbo.
“Not that long—it’s a pretty obvious option when you think about it,” Bernie replied. “But that’s not what you’re asking, is it? You’re trying to imply that I’ve been scheming this all along.”
Marta held out her hands as if warding Bernie off, then seemed to change her mind and put them on her hips. “I guess I’m saying that it seems like you’ve thought about it too much for this to be some random plan.”
“I’m a pretty fast thinker.” Bernie inhaled deeply through her nose.
“And I am highly motivated to solve this problem. Because it’s not only my professional reputation and promotion that are on the line.
” Bernie had learned a long time ago that when talking about something uncomfortable, most people tended to stare off into the distance (the rules of eye contact had been the hardest for her to master).
She cast her gaze toward the kitchen island and focused on a hair clip that had belonged to Celeste.
“I, uh . . . I don’t like talking about this, but my ex recently brought a motion for sole custody.
He’s mad that I tried to get more child support, so he’s really trying to screw me.
” Steven was, in fact, trying to get more time with the kids.
Sometimes Bernie wondered whether she should just let him take them, but she could never let him win.
“Oh no, Bernie, that’s terrible,” said Imogen. “I would have killed Ari’s father if he tried something like that with me.” She choked on the last half of her sentence. “You know what I mean. Not actually. But that’s so crazy, you’re such a good mom.”
Bernie knew she wasn’t, and she was fine with it.
You’re such a good mom was the kind of phrase that other mothers flung around with all the finesse of a baby splatting food on the floor.
“Thanks for saying that, it means a lot. I can’t imagine my life without them.
It feels really shameful, to have him come at my parenting like this.
So obviously, I absolutely cannot have any association with a murder investigation.
” Why isn’t my work enough? Turning to Marta, she asked, “Now do you understand why my mind went there so fast? I could lose my kids.”
Marta’s cheeks turned pink. Bernie knew she had her then.
With Imogen and Marta on board, Bernie began to feel a bit more in control. The three of them sat around the dining table and hashed out a plan. Marta was the one who suggested the campfire, and Bernie was surprised that she’d come up with such a good idea.
“I guess it serves two purposes,” said Marta.
“We can show we were trying to help, like, it would be a beacon that Celeste could follow if she was lost out on the lake.” Marta was sitting as far away as possible from Bernie and Imogen, and she was addressing her remarks to the wall of maps.
“It also gives us a way to get rid of that rope.”
“Yes. Yes, absolutely,” Bernie agreed. “Okay, so the first thing we need to do is the text to Milly around 6:30 p.m. It won’t go through for ages, but that doesn’t matter.”
“No, first I want to delete those texts to Mark,” Imogen interjected. “I don’t want those on her phone. And if anyone ever pulled her records, who’s to say she didn’t delete them herself?”
Bernie nodded. “Sure, delete them. Okay, phone stuff first. Then after dinner we’ll do the fire. We’ll wait until it’s late before we take her out—we need to be sure that we’re not going to run into anyone else on the lake. Are we all agreed?”