Dead Code by Glenda Carroll

Author:Glenda Carroll
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: crime drama, crime fiction, computer crime, crime mystery, crime series, crime book, cyber crime, thriller crime, crime solving
Publisher: Indies United Publishing House, LLC

CHAPTER 23

The afternoon sun blazed white hot. Beachgoers who didn’t have a day job—or who had called in sick—packed the local reservoir. I spread my towel by the lifeguard’s tall, white chair. Lena taught me this trick. “If you’re by yourself, or your whole group decides to swim at the same time, always chat up the guards. Good chance they’ll notice if some random person decides to steal your stuff,” she told me once on a trip to the beach.

Out in the water, safety lane lines dotted with small oval blue and white floats separated the roomy rectangular swimming area from the rest of the reservoir. At the furthest edge, a wide lane was cordoned off for lap swimmers. One length measured about fifty yards, twice the length of a regular swimming pool. In the past, I’d swum out there comfortably when my sister stayed closed and if I tucked myself next to the lane lines. But not today. My heart rate vaulted up a full ten points and my whole body stiffened when I glanced at the water. I turned around and concentrated on the white wooden rung of the lifeguard chair, trying to steady my breathing.

“Safe. Safe,” I spoke quietly. “I’m safe.” My shoulders slipped down from my ears. I twisted my neck around in circles, one way, then the other.

I glanced up at the guard sitting with a red lifeguard tube on her lap.

“Okay if I put my towel here?” She nodded but kept her eyes on a group of laughing children pushing each other underwater in the shallows.

“You have a crowd today for midweek.”

“I don’t know where all these people come from,” she replied, her eyes never leaving the water.

I fastened the video watch to my wrist. Maybe I could practice if I was calm enough to get in the water. “Anything I should know about the reservoir today?”

“It’s warming up … maybe sixty-eight or sixty-nine degrees. There’s no current, no angry sea monsters. Watch out for the rocks under the surface when you first get in.”

“Thanks.”

“No, thank you. You’re the first person this summer to ask about water hazards. I wish more people did that.”

Sand, a lot of sand, had been trucked in to make this beach. It was the coarse kind, not the fine powdery stuff found on tropical beaches of Florida or Hawaii. Today, it seared my feet as I tiptoed down to the water’s edge. I slipped on two caps for extra warmth, fitted my goggles to my face and forced myself to walk into the water up to my knees. Breathe in. Breathe out. Control the breath; don’t let it control you. I dipped both hands in and splashed water on my face and the back of my neck. Chilly, chilly, chilly. I walked in farther until the water circled my waist, then I held my breath and sank under the surface. I pushed off the bottom and stood straight up. I glanced over my shoulder. Nobody on the beach paid any attention to me.

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