The Girl and the Sea

I

For more than three days the sea had claimed her body. A tall man looked down through dark framed glasses and scratched his prematurely greying beard in contemplation, his intelligent blue eyes watching the light reflect off her pale skin as she jarred repeatedly against the rocks. Detective Graham Kelly placed his phone into a pocket and stared intensely at the woman’s bloated form lying face down in the water. She wore only a dress shirt which had been torn where the rocks had assaulted her flesh. A hummingbird tattoo at bottom of her neck, post-mortem wounds on her back, shoulders, right buttock. He looked closer. Neck is broken for sure…wound on her occiput...

“Quite the vacation for you, eh, Detective Kelly?” A man wearing a brimmed hat and grey police uniform had joined him at the edge of the bluff. He was a head shorter than the detective and had narrow facial features with a crooked nose. He looked up at the Detective, “White’s Cove doesn’t get many of these, thankfully” he continued.

“Part of the attraction, I would think.” Graham Kelly said as he inspected the rocky shoreline stretching to his left, forming a large crescent. Ten feet beneath him the waves sloshed into a sheltered alcove where the body swayed back and forth gently, intermittently bumping against two massive boulders which rose from the water to create the enclosure. The churning water reflected gathering clouds above as the wind changed direction and Detective Kelly drew his jacket tightly around his chest. “Can we get her up here?” he asked, looking at the small, uniformed man.

“My name is Jim Tanner, by the way. Chief of the local department.” he said, tipping his cap. “And yeah, we can get her up for sure. Just have to wait for the funeral home team to arrive.”

“Funeral home?” Detective Kelly asked raising an eyebrow.

“Yup. They’re the ones who help move bodies around here.”  The chief replied while staring at the girl oscillating in the water. He looked up to the sound of tires on gravel and watched as a grey van with ‘Wattam’s Funeral Home’ etched on its side pulled up. It stopped within a few yards of Tanner’s Jeep and two men stepped out wearing blue jeans and matching white dress shirts. Detective Kelly watched as the men strolled toward them. Why the hell would they choose white?  he wondered.

“Jim.” The older of the two men grunted, shaking the officer’s hand. He was lanky with grey hair curling over his ears and a broad nose that commandeered much of his face.

“Thanks for coming Tom.” The chief replied. “I know you and Steven were hoping to go fishing this weekend.”

“Don’t worry about it” The younger man replied brightly. He was fair haired and well-muscled. In his mid-twenties, he had the same square jaw as his father, but with a straighter nose that must have been a gift from his mother. “Dad only gets frustrated anyway. And then he starts complaining about how the fishing industry is raping the ocean.” He gave a toothy grin towards his father.

“Smart-ass” Tom said and started walking over to the shoreline. “Who are you?” he shot toward Graham.

“This is Detective Kelly. He’s a homicide detective here on vacation from Toronto. Was on a lovely walk, enjoying our view when he happened across the body.”

“Oh yeah?” Tom looked at the detective with eyes reminiscent of the sea behind him. He peered down at the body and turned to his son. “Steven, get the weights and straps.”

            After fourty-five minutes of trying to sling straps around the body, they finally succeeded and lifted the woman onto dry land, laying her face down on the grass. With the chance for closer inspection, Graham now appreciated the toll that the sea had taken on her body and despite himself, couldn’t help but marvel at the ruthlessness of nature.

“Well, let’s roll her over then” Chief Tanner said, and they pulled her onto her back.

“Shit! Goddamnit!” He shouted, standing up and turning away from the young woman’s distorted face. Steven had drained in colour and looked as though he may vomit, while Tom patted Jim on the back as the Chief walked away.

“That’s Billy Callahan’s daughter, Jenna.” Tom said to Detective Kelly, bending down to take a closer look. “A local girl. A fine young woman…Jim is…or was, her godfather”.    

            The three local men stood close to one another speaking in hushed voices three yards from Detective Kelly. Every so often one of them would look over but quickly returned his attention to their whispers. Graham accepted the space and crouched beside the girl, taking the opportunity to inspect her more closely. Her dress shirt had its sleeves rolled to the elbows and the top three buttons were undone, exposing one of her breasts. Long blonde hair was tangled across her face, the remnants of mascara stained her cheeks, and her lips held a shade of red that could only mean she had lipstick on prior to soaking in the briny water. He was looking closely at the unnatural angle of her neck and a faint blue discolouration along its side when a voice called from behind him.

“Detective Kelly.” he looked up and saw Chief Tanner shuffling toward him. “I apologize for my reaction earlier…I just...she’s…”

“It’s o.k., Chief Tanner. We are supposed to form thick calluses in this profession, but they don’t protect us from something like this” Detective Kelly interjected. “And the day that it does, should be our last day on the job.”

“Yes, well. I s’pose you’re right about that. And you can call me Jim, by the way. I suppose she’s in the kingdom of the Lord now at least.” He made the sign of the cross and bowed his head in prayer. Graham watched him silently. If only I could be comforted by the belief in a God. he thought.

“I understand it isn’t typical” Graham said after a moment of silence, “but given the circumstances, if you wanted to put in a request to my precinct, I’d be happy to help you with this investigation.”

Jim Tanner looked up at the tall detective and took off his hat, scratching his head. He squinted slightly as a few raindrops struck his eyes.

“Investigation?” he asked.

“Yes. The investigation into Miss Callahan’s death.” Graham replied.

“She drown.” Tanner said flatly. “She drown, and the sea beat her to shit. There’s no investigation here Detective Kelly.”

II

            Graham and Ann Kelly pulled into the small town of White’s Cove with the June sun shining through the windows of Graham’s old Honda Accord. A familiar rattle alarmed them with every bump in the road and Ann gave her husband a practiced look, silently imploring him to get a new car. She’d first met him during a particularly challenging shift in the emergency department when he was only a constable. While trying to enquire about a gunshot victim it became obvious to Ann that he was as intelligent as he was awkward. Spending their conversation shuffling his feet and avoiding eye contact, Graham had done his best to flirt with her and she appreciated the effort, rewarding it by asking him out for lunch. Throughout their relationship, she had been helping him find ways to connect more easily with people. It had been hard work, but he was making progress and it was likely the reason for his recent rise through the ranks of the Toronto Police Department.

They drove slowly, appreciating the street lined with small craftsman houses whose porches were generously adorned with seasonal planters. The homes gave way to a quaint downtown that offered four markets for fresh seafood, three restaurants and a few scattered boutique shops, most of them specializing in clothes that sported a White’s Cove emblem. They stopped in front of a large century home with light yellow siding and a robin’s egg blue door that sported a welcome sign for ‘Dot’s Bed and Breakfast’. Graham stepped out after parking and gave a large stretch, taking a deep breath of the fresh sea air, loving the smell as it flowed through his nostrils.

“It’s just creepy!”

He turned to see a woman in her early twenties with long blonde hair walking past with a man of similar age and a square jaw. A gust of wind swept her hair to the side, revealing a hummingbird tattoo cresting above her shirt line.

“I’m sure you misinterpreted it, Jay.” her friend answered.

“That’s the shit men always say. Just put the responsibility on the woman for misinterpreting things or overreacting. You don’t get it.” Graham could feel the intense frustration in her voice as she looked anywhere but at her friend.

“I’m not saying that. I’m just saying that he was probably just trying to pay you a compliment or something.”

“It’s not a compliment to say something like that. Even in a club.” She replied, their voices fading as he watched them walk down the street.

“Hey! None of that!” Ann chirped, stepping out of the car.

“None of what?” Graham asked with a practiced innocence.

“Detecting.” She raised her eyebrows and glanced at the youth that had now turned a corner toward an old lumber yard down the next street.

“Oh, right…that.” he said contritely. “I’m clear of it, Annie. I promise. Just you and me my dear.” He pulled their bags out of the back and they started up the limestone steps to the front door of the bed and breakfast. Looking over his shoulder the street was empty, but he thought he may have heard a woman crying.

III

            The rain was falling firmly on his shoulders as Detective Kelly stared momentarily at Chief Tanner. “Don’t you think it might be a bit premature to conclude that Ms. Callahan accidentally drown?” he asked.

The chief adjusted his hat, “Do I think it’s premature…no…what I think,  is that I’ve had to call and ask her father to come down here. I think that he’s gonna have to I.D. the body of his baby girl and I think that the last fucking thing I want to do is tell him that I’ll be digging into his pain with a goddamn murder investigation.” He turned away and walked over to look down at the lifeless body, deformed by the sea. Once upon a time she was a five-year old girl asking to play in his police car, and now this.... “That’ll be him now,” he said without looking up as a large pickup truck crested the grassy knoll and crept down the gravelled path. Tanner tore his eyes away from Jenna and walked over to meet the truck without another word to Detective Kelly, who watched him leave. Three people slowly got out of the pickup. A tall and leathery-skinned man with shaggy blonde hair; a slender woman with curly red-hair that was barely being contained by a fisherman’s rain hat; and a stocky, dark-haired man with a scarred left eyebrow and rolled up sleeves exposing large, powerful forearms. Tanner had stepped toward the blonde man and his wife, while the dark haired man stood to the side, looking out over the cove. The chief held his hat over his heart, allowing the rain to wet his balding head and Graham saw the woman collapse forward as if struck hard in the stomach by an invisible fist. She placed her hands over her mouth and started sobbing while her husband stared at the ground beside her. Graham could see her silent gasps as she found her feet and turned to her husband. Looking up at him she suddenly slapped him forcefully across the cheek. He may have been caressed by the wind for all his response. Staring downward, eyes still fixed to the ground, he stood as if sculpted from stone.

            Graham turned back to the body and kneeling, moved a strand of hair away from her face. Scratches over her brow and chin but no signs of bruising. Likely from her time in the water. Following past her broken neck he traced along her arms until he found her wrists where he noticed a faint, yet well-defined circular bruise. He instinctively looked to her other wrist and found a matching discolouration. Moving his attention back to her head he re-examined the injury he’d seen earlier at the base of the skull. It had a vertical line, only an inch in height perhaps, and on either side, there were two small puncture marks a third of the way down. By no means was it a life-threatening injury, superficial even, yet Detective Kelly could not help but continue to stare at it, transfixed.

“She always was a beautiful girl.” Said a hoarse voice with a gentle Irish accent. Graham turned to see the dark-haired man standing behind him. He had put on a yellow rain jacket and was holding it closed across his chest. It was now easier to see that he was middle aged with flecks of grey peppered through his dark temples. His stubble was unkempt and travelled down his neck, where it met a thick gold chain. He knelt beside him and looked out at the cove, rather than at the body. “They always have things like this happen in stories in order to make the surviving characters special, ya know? The child that lost its parents grows up to be a hero…the single dad lost his love but is shown that he can love again…a parent that lost their child gets your pity and makes them accessible. But it’s all bullshit, isn’t it? They’re just using loss to draw attention to what people have…but this…this is just pain.” He looked at the Detective and they made eye contact for the first time. His eyes were dry, but they held a weight that was undeniable.

“People want to be reminded of their unifying mortality…but they don’t want to suffer. It’s easier to watch than it is to experience.” Detective Kelly said. “I’m Detective Kelly. I happened upon Jenna a few hours ago.” he offered a hand in greeting.

“Nate Grafton” the man replied, his grip effortlessly crushing. “Jim told us who you were. Thanks for finding her.”

“Did you know that she was missing?” Detective Kelly asked.

“Jenna was a free spirited twenty-two-year-old woman. It wasn’t unusual for her to head out of town for a few days. She loved adventure and spontaneity. Her parents were getting a bit anxious though as she hadn’t responded to their last couple of texts” He nodded toward the sandy-haired and red-headed woman still talking to Chief Tanner at the truck.

“And what was your relationship with Jenna?” Graham asked while following his gaze.

“Relationship?” Nate asked.

“How did you know her, that is.”

“Oh…I’m her dad’s best friend. Have seen her grow up.”

“Do you two work together? You and her father?”

“Sometimes. He’s a local carpenter and I’m a mason. Sometimes we’ll be on the same job, but we have separate businesses. Anyway, I should get back to them.”

“One thing,” Detective Kelly said. “What do you think happened?”

“Happened? I dunno… probably drown I suppose. It’s a dangerous cove at times” He walked back to the trio, the gravel shifting under his feet as the rain continued to fall.

IV

Ann tied her sweater around her waist as she and Graham entered ‘Callahan’s Custom Carpentry’ to browse aimlessly. The crisp coastal breeze had letup during their walk into town and the sun was shining in full force, causing those beneath it to shed their layers. Inside of the shop, light reflected off a permanently suspended fine sawdust, the corner shelves had an assortment of beautiful wood-turned bowls that Ann began exploring while Graham’s attention had been caught by a well-crafted bench. Made from an old slab of mahogany, he could tell it was hand-planed as his fingertips appreciated the soft undulations in the wood. The legs were secured with tenon and mortise joinery, a method that took practice to perfect and would ensure the piece lasted beyond a lifetime. The doorbell rang as a red-headed woman entered and walked briskly toward the back of the store with her phone in hand.

“Bill! Bill!” She shouted to a back room that was hidden by a wood-paneled door. A tall sandy haired man walked out with an apron over his chest and a chisel in hand.

“Don’t yell, Maggie.” He said with a harsh tone, but his wife was in no state to notice.

“She hasn’t replied Bill. It’s been two days. Not a word.” Maggie threw her hands to her sides before bringing her phone back up, hoping to see something new.

“You need to calm down. I’m sure she’s just out with Steven or something.” Bill said.

“She always messages me back Bill. I swear…somethings wrong.” She seemed to have just noticed their guests looking at objects in the corner and lowered her voice suddenly.

“Maybe she finally got tired of you nagging her. She’s twenty-two years old, Maggie. Give her some space for God’s sake.”

“Like you? You’ve barely talked to Jenna for months. It’s like you suddenly decided she wasn’t worth your time.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” Bill replied, turning away from her, and starting to re-organize some papers behind the checkout counter.

“Yes, you do. And I know that something’s off here. Something is wrong”

“Like I said. You need to calm down and give her some space.” He turned around without another word and returned to the back room. Maggie looked after him for a moment before storming out of the store without a glance toward the couple in the corner. Graham could feel his wife’s eyes on the back of his head. He turned around and smiled gently, “look at this lovely bench Annie”.

V

            “What are you saying Detective Kelly?” Maggie Callahan asked, wiping tears from her eyes despite the rain.

“I am saying, that in my opinion, you would be unwise to assume that Jenna’s death was an accident.” He watched her closely, instinctively surveying her facial expressions, body language and reactions. She stared at the ground without noticing his examination, embracing herself with her arms across her chest and her fingers pulled at some loose stitching on her raincoat.

“But Jim said-“

“I said that the poor girl has drown. And that’s enough of a tragedy in itself”. The chief interrupted as he came down the knoll with Bill Callahan. “You don’t need to go digging for more suffering Detective Kelly. There’s plenty enough as it is.”

“I promise you; I am not trying to cause any undue suffering. And you are right, Jim. There is enough to go around, but you’re mistaken if you think that ignoring what’s in front of you and putting this all to bed will somehow lessen the pain…that it will lessen the nights that you lay awake watching your mind replay the times you had together, or grieving the loss of memories that could have been made.” He looked at Maggie Callahan. “You’re sinking right now. I know, trust me. But don’t walk away from her…don’t leave her like this.”

Maggie’s eyes pooled with tears as she stared at the tall Detective. His words were harsh, but his intelligent blue eyes were warm and held kind intention. She looked at Tanner and then to her husband. In the background she could hear the muffled voices of Nate and the Wattams speaking tensely to one another. Looking back to Detective Kelly she asked in a whispered voice, “What have you found?”

VI

      The salted summer air brushed against his face and Graham breathed deeply as he jogged down the deserted main street. Ann was exhausted from a string of night shifts prior to their vacation and had decided to catch up on her sleep, affording Graham the luxury of a morning run. His feet beat rhythmically along the sidewalk which sloped gently toward the edge of town where it surrendered to a large grassy knoll overlooking the sea. Finding a beaten footpath in the grass he continued toward the cove with the softened earth silencing his footsteps and allowing the sound of crashing waves to permeate the air, giving a sense of calm that could only be brought by the ocean. After running a kilometer along a bluff overlooking the rocky shoreline, he arrived at a make-shift picnic area with large logs scattered for seats and an old garbage can with the rim singed by a recent fire. A gravelled path with potholes travelled away from the site and over the embankment in the direction of town. Taking a moment to catch his breath he walked along the grass toward the water’s edge. A pair of large rocks jutted skyward twelve feet away from him, creating a sheltered alcove below his feet. The water churned as fresh waves entered from the side and Graham watched, as new and old danced in an eternal battle to claim the haven. Breaking through his thoughts, the rumble of a vehicle could be heard from the other side of the knoll and the slowing crunch of gravel indicated it was coming to a stop. Worrying that he may have imposed himself into a private property, Graham started to crest the small hill when he heard a man cursing at another.

“Shit Steven, enough is enough!” Graham instinctively lowered himself onto the grass and crept slowly forward until two men came into view. A middle-aged man with a narrow face and crooked nose was leaning against the hood of a Jeep, hands on his head in exasperation. A young man with blonde hair and a square jaw leaned against the passenger door, looking at his feet contritely.

“I swear, Jim… I don’t know where she is.”

“Steven, you’ve been following after her for the past two years like a pup. You were like a second shadow for God’s sake. But now, all the sudden, you have no idea where she is? Haven’t heard a word from her? Don’t you think that looks a little suspicious?!” He turned and walked away in frustration before slamming his fist onto the hood of his Jeep.

Steven startled as if it were a gunshot. Falling back against the truck his shoulders sagged and he looked away.   

“I… I can’t… I swear” he sputtered. Jim’s clenched fist relaxed, and he placed a hand on Steven’s shoulder. Looking up at the tall youth he spoke gently.

“Stevie Wattam… I’ve watched you grow up. Your father is a friend. If something’s happened to Jenna, then you need to tell me. I can help you, whatever it is. I don’t want any undue suffering for the town or those who call it home. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Steven’s lip began to quiver but started shaking his head. Jim’s face hardened, as did his tone.

“Fine… that’s fine Steven, but I mean it…if something has happened to Jenna it will devastate us all. That’s enough suffering for our town to bear. I think you need some time to think.” He climbed into the Jeep and starting the engine drove away, leaving Steven standing alone with the sea. Looking out at the waves he started to silently weep before turning away and walking over the hill toward town. Graham rolled onto his back and looked at the morning sky. He took a slow breath, calming the churning in his stomach and wondered how he would explain the mud and grass stains to Annie.

VII

            The six hooded figures encircled the young woman’s body while the heavy rain settled against her, the edge of a puddle slowly creeping up her lifeless skin. Their voices sounded like whispers over the growing wind and orchestra of cymbals created by crashing waves. Detective Kelly was not looking at the lifeless form of Jenna Callahan, but rather at the people that formed an enclosure around her, shielding her from the elements in some last effort to protect their child.   

“Please don’t do this Detective” Chief Tanner said, standing to Graham’s right. There was more pleading in his voice than before, and he refused to look away from Jenna.

“Mrs. Callahan asked me a question, and I’m going to answer it.” he replied, with the tone of a teacher giving a lesson in manners to their pupil. Turning to the stoic carpenter’s wife he spoke clearly so everyone could hear.

“Antemortem, perimortem and post-mortem, refer to different timing of injuries related to death. Essentially, they give a rough guide to when something happened based on whether the body was able to heal or change in response to the injury. These injuries -” he pointed at numerous lacerations and punctures across Jenna’s torso, “-are from her time in the sea. I’m sorry for my insensitivity, but it’s like somebody cutting into a piece of raw meat. There are no signs of bleeding or bruising, just broken tissue. These, however -”, he pointed to a faint discolouration on the side of her neck, wrists and the mark on the back of her head, “these happened while she was still alive. As did this bruise on her chest.” He pointed to a faint bruising that replicated the shape of her head wound, a vertical line with faint symmetrical dots a third of the way down, but approximately twice the size.

“So, she had some fucking bruises” Tom Wattam shouted. “Can we get her to the home now? I’m cold and need a fucking sandwich.”

“How dare you, Tom!” Maggie yelled back, her eyes burning at the undertaker. “How dare you insult the life of my child like that! A fucking sandwich? Really? Is that what Jenna meant to you? Is that what she meant to this town? And you - ” she turned to Chief Tanner who stumbled backward, “If I hear ONE more word from you, telling detective Kelly to stop, or that my baby simply drown randomly in the sea, I will throw you to the waves myself, I swear by God!” She fell back into her arms, weeping. Graham took the opportunity and looked directly at Tom Wattam, who was staring at Maggie, his mouth agape.

“Are you a man of God, Mr. Wattam?” he asked pointedly.

“Wha- whaat?” he replied, looking away from Maggie and to the detective.

“A man of God. Perhaps an antiquated term, but I’m sure you know what I mean” Graham’s intelligent blue eyes held Tom’s glare.

“Yes. I hold the words of Jesus Christ to be holy and true.”

“And have you passed these teachings onto your son?” Everyone’s attention was ripped away from the now partially submerged body and directed toward the young man standing to his father’s right.

“I don’t know what the fuck that has to do with anything, but yes. Of course, I brought him up to know God”

“…and death. Given your line of work” Graham replied. He looked at Steven, the young man was sobbing, his eyes staring at the ground and his left hand now holding a large crucifix with Christ on its front, his inanimate hands clenched into fists. The detective stepped forward slowly, and gently removing the item from the young man’s hand he brought it up to his eyeline, interrogating it closely.

“Steven.” He said softly, but with the weight of someone with unwelcome knowledge. “I think you need to tell us what happened.”

Steven’s sobbing slowed and he took three deep breaths. He continued to look down but his voice broke through the wind.

“I loved her.” He said. “All I did was love her.”

“And she loved you too, but not in the same way. Did she? I remember seeing you together…her shoulder turned away, hand unavailable…you, reaching toward her. Some might say following her like a puppy.” He glanced quickly at Jim whose head jerked up momentarily. The words simultaneously sent a shock through Stevens body as he fell back into misery, but Graham pushed onward. “I made a call, before you got here when I found the body. On a hunch, I had a colleague check your recent phone messages.” He took out his phone and read aloud.

“J. Meet me at the bluff picnic site. Don’t tell anyone. EMERGENCY. – S”. Graham put his phone away. “That was about 24 hours after I came into town. The same time that Jenna stopped communicating with her mother” He nodded toward Maggie. Steven looked up at him awestruck. “And this” Graham said, the cross still in his hand. “This is a distinct object, missing its chain judging by the tan-line on your neck and its empty metal catch at the top.” Graham pressed the face of the cross firmly into the palm of his large hand, holding it in place while the others looked at him with confusion. After a long moment of silence, he released the pressure and holding his palm toward Steven revealed a red, vertical line with two dots beside it where the miniature messiah and his fists had pressed into his flesh. Steven stared at it until he broke away and looked down at Jenna.

“I just wanted her to love me. She was an angel, a gift. So full of life in my world suffocating with death.”

“In God’s name, what did you do boy?!” Tom stared at his son, grief consuming his face.

“I LOVED HER!” he yelled, looking around the circle frantically. “But she didn’t get it! She couldn’t appreciate what she had…what I could give!” His hands were grabbing at his rain-drenched hair as if to force the memories from his brain. “I told her. I told her what she was to me. A freedom from darkness and my pain, but she just smiled and thanked me for the compliment. Thanked me! I couldn’t help it. I’d waited so long to be with her…I just…couldn’t wait any longer.”

“And so, you forced yourself on her.” Graham said solemnly. “Holding her down with such force that you bruised her chest with your cross.”

“I just needed to be with her, but she tried to break free.” Steven wept.

“You bastard!” Maggie yelled, striking him wherever she could until Billy and Nate pulled her back in restraint. “You…killed…my daughter.”

“I…I don’t know” Steven said.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Maggie sobbed. “How can you not know if you killed someone?”

Steven had a distant stare in his eyes, his face suddenly drained of tears and an emptiness remaining. “I think I may have killed her soul, Mrs. Callahan…I think that I killed her soul…and she went searching for it.”

“What the hell do you mean by that?” Tanner asked. Steven turned his head toward Tanner but seemed to be looking past him to the grey waters of the sea.

“I think… that she killed herself because of what I did.” The words seemed to drain what strength he had left and he collapsed into the mud, sitting with arms wrapped around his legs, his head resting on his knees.

Graham crouched in front of the broken youth, “I’m sure that you did break her soul, Steven. You ripped away her independence as if it was yours to take and stripped her of any illusion that she could be more than an object of physical desire. You hurt her body, you raped her mind, and you are as guilty as the one who killed her, in my opinion. But you didn’t kill her…and she didn’t kill herself.” He stood up and Steven’s eyes followed him. “Your arms were around her, holding her wrists behind her back, chest pressed against hers?” Steven nodded silently as Graham looked down at him, pushing his glasses back from slipping off his wet nose.

“I also asked my colleague to check the phone records for Jenna Callahan. A name that I serendipitously learned while admiring some fine woodworking. She sent a text…approximately three hours after the one that you sent, Steven. It said ‘HELP me. At the bluff. Bring clothes.” Everyone held their breath, staring at Detective Kelly, who now looked down at Jenna, his eyes wet with both tears and rain. “Isn’t that right, Nate?” he said.

VIII

            Jenna laid on the ground with closed eyes, weeping breathlessly. She was unsure for how long she’d lain there, her reality having been tortured out of shape and no longer resembling life with time. The sound of her heart racing told her that she was alive, the tears on her cheeks and searing pain on her chest convinced her that she could feel. Can I see?  She wondered, not wanting to open her eyes, fearful of what she would find when she looked down. Taking a slow breath she opened one lid, the evening sky reflected pinks and reds behind her eye. Opening the other, she looked between her legs which were still slumped to the sides of her body…blood. More blood than she’d expected, staining her skirt and underwear…some even stained her new shirt. She cursed at herself for ruining her new shirt before starting to weep uncontrollably. Finding her strength, Jenna rolled onto her side and grabbed her clutch purse. It had been thrown onto the grass during the struggle and luckily had no signs of damage. Fumbling with the zipper she slowly opened it and pulled out her phone, sending a single text before falling onto her back and losing consciousness.

            She opened her eyes to the sound of tires on gravel and with intense effort sat up, turning around to see Nate running down the embankment.

“Jenna! Jenna, what happened?” He ran toward her, falling onto his knees at her side.

“I…I…” she couldn’t find her words. Images scattered through her mind like a kaleidoscope and she momentarily lost her bearings. Slumping to the side she was caught by Nate’s strong arms.

“Did someone attack ya? Why is there blood?”

“Nate…please. I just need help. Did you bring the clothes?”

“I have a shirt in the truck.”

“Just a shirt?”

“I didn’t know what was going on,” he said while reaching into the truck and pulling out a dress shirt. “I had it in there from before, so I thought I’d just come straight over. Ya said ya needed help, Jenna and here I am. We can get ya some other clothes from home if-“

“No.” She cut in. “No, I need to get rid of these…I can’t wear them.” She stood up and started undressing, removing her skirt and underwear, followed by her shirt and bra. She reached a hand toward Nate to accept the dress-shirt, her bloodied clothes lay in a pile beside her naked body. Nate stared at her, his eyes glazing over.

“God, you’re a beautiful woman Jenna.”

“Not now, Nate. Please don’t.”

“What? Give ya a complement?” He held the shirt back slightly from her reach.

“I…can’t.” She said, her eyes swelling with renewed tears and one arm now covering her breasts.

“Might make ya feel better. I always get a little lusty after a brawl.” He held out the shirt and allowed her to slip her arms through. Stepping behind her, he placed a hand on her breast.

“Nate, please…” she said, losing any remaining strength in her voice.

“C’mon Jenna. It’s not like we haven’t done it here before. Even Billy hasn’t spoken against us since finding out.”

“Nate…I was raped okay?! So don’t!” She tried to tear his arm off of her chest, but it had tightened suddenly into a vice.

“What?” He whispered in her ear. “You…ya call me for help…after getting fucked by another man?”

“I didn’t…it wasn’t my fault!” She cried, falling against him with her head against his chest. Nate’s arm held her in place, sitting firmly on the side of her neck.

“Wasn’t your fault? Found on the bluff, innocently alone and taken advantage of? Doubtful. Yeh came here with somebody…yeh came here with a man…wearing your litt’l skirt and seductive smile. Same smile that ya used to lure me into sin. I was a righteous man before you Jenna. I was honourable, not sneaking around in the night with my best friend’s daughter. But yeh broke me, yeh broke my soul!” He breathed heavily, waiting for her protestations but heard only the wind and the waves. He felt the weight of her body pulling on his arm and letting go she fell to the ground, lifeless.

IX

“Isn’t that true, Nate?” Graham looked sternly at the mason who had momentarily into his mind. Nate took an intentional breath, looking around the circle as if reminding himself of where he was.

His face remained expressionless.

“She called Nate? Why would she…?” Maggie asked, looking to her husband who was staring at Nate with pure hatred. “Bill? Why would she call Nate?”

“Because they were together.” Bill said with an exhale. “I found out a couple of months ago…Jenna…Jenna didn’t want you to know Maggie. I’m so sorry.” He used a callused hand to wipe away a tear from his wife’s face. He then looked back at Nate, “Is it true? Did she message you for help?”

“She messaged me, I came, and she wasn’t here.” Nate said coldly.

“I’m sorry Nate, but unfortunately you’re lying,” Detective Kelly said. “I appreciate your situation. You have a young man who’s admitted to raping her, a father who was a friend and holding your secret, and a chief who wanted nothing more than to look the other way in order to avoid the pain of knowing the truth.”

“And how does that make me a bloody liar?!” Nate raged suddenly at the tall detective, who stood unphased by the outburst.

“It doesn’t…nor do the remains of her burned clothes in that garbage can over there,” Graham nodded at the can with singed edges. “What makes you a liar is simply that you’re not speaking the truth…what proves you’re a liar, is that cross you’re wearing on your neck” Everyone looked suddenly at the gold chain that had escaped from under Nates shirt, on it rested a miniature replica of the crucifix and saviour that Graham still held in his hand. “I think we will find, some may say miraculously, that our little friend there has blood on him from the back of Jenna’s head and is well positioned to make you pay for your sins.”

THE END