Page 13 of Serenity Falls

‘A body. In the pool. Yes.’ I wipe water out of my eyes.

‘Oh my gosh.’

‘You think you could help me get him out?’

She blinks, and then efficiency mode kicks back in. ‘Oh, of course.’

She kicks off her wedges and wades into the water. We grab one arm each and together we haul the body out on to the poolside.

I stare at the costume’s headpiece. Some sort of creature with a long snout? An anteater, perhaps?

‘How do we get his head off?’ I ask.

‘Like this.’ Frances gently eases the headpiece off.

Inside the costume is a young man, late teens, early twenties, maybe. I feel my heart give. Long, blondish hair, thin face, the remnants of teenage acne. His eyes are half open, and his lips are blue. I’m pretty sure he’s dead. But Frances – ever the optimist – kneels and starts mouth to mouth.

‘Should I call 911?’ I ask.

She looks up. ‘No. Call Jerry – he’s the sheriff.’

‘Are you sure I shouldn’t call—’

‘Call Jerry first. The number’s on the fridge under “Important Contacts”.’

I stand just as another figure emerges at the sliding glass doors. Sadie. Shit.

‘Dad. I heard a—’ She looks past me and her eyes widen. ‘Jesus! Is that a body?’

‘Where were you?’

‘Out front. Is he dead?’

‘I don’t know. I need you to go inside.’

‘Was he in the pool?’

‘Yes. Go inside and get the contacts card off the fridge door.’

She hesitates, then turns and darts back inside. Seconds later she emerges with a card, which she thrusts at me. I find the number for ‘Sheriff’ and pull my phone out of my pocket, only now realizing that I should have taken it out of my pocket before I went for a dunk in the pool. However, the water resistance seems to be holding up and the screen comes on. I jab the numbers into the phone and listen to it ring, even as a voice in my head berates me: You should call 911. The guy is dead. In your pool.

On the fourth ring, a man answers in a laid-back drawl: ‘Hello, sheriff’s office. Jerry speaking.’

‘Erm. Hi. This is Dan Barker at 22 Acacia Avenue.’

‘The new guy?’

So, word gets around. But I suppose the town sheriff needs to know who’s living here.

‘Yes. We have a bit of situation at the house.’

‘Don’t tell me. Locks won’t work. Security cameras glitching. You got a ’coon in your garbage.’

‘Not quite.’

I glance over at Frances. She’s sitting back on her haunches and shaking her head sadly.

‘We’ve got a dead body.’