Through Dark Water by K.L. Abrahamson

Author:K.L. Abrahamson [Abrahamson, Karen L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Inside Passage, Killer Whales, Orca, Eagles
Publisher: Karen Abrahamson
Published: 2015-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

They made it back to Pirate Cove by five thirty, signed in their kayaks with Donnie and said they’d be back tomorrow pending the weather, then bundled their stuff back to the cottage. When they’d both showered and changed, wearing their hooded Gore-Tex against the rain, they trudged downhill—ostensibly for dinner, but at the base of the hill Phoebe stopped before the blue Parker home. The media van was at least gone.

Well, she needed to get this done. She headed toward the house, Alice following, rolling her eyes.

The house was well kept, the shake walls recently stained, the white trim around the windows newly painted. On the single concrete step, a copper planter stood burgeoning with red and white geraniums that seemed to glow in the misty air. The brown wooden door had a brass knocker shaped like a cat’s head.

Use it? Actually call on the family? It was the one thing she hadn’t been able to do before, and that was part of her shame. It hadn’t just been the school district’s instructions that she was not to make contact, it had also been shame that she hadn’t been able to stop the whole thing from happening. She should have seen it coming. Well, she had nothing to be ashamed of this time, did she? She used the knocker on the door.

For the longest time no one answered. She saw a curtain stir in what must be the living room, and then heard the sound of footsteps behind the door. It opened a few inches to release the scent of rich tomato sauce and to reveal the eye of a woman of perhaps fifty.

“Yes?” she asked. “May I help you?” She had clear blue eyes, but there was strain around them and a downturn to her lips that looked like a new expression to her.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m Phoebe Clay and this is my niece, Alice. We’re just tourists passing through, but we met your son, Alex, our first morning here and saw him out on the water. He and Alice spoke and we wanted to pass along our condolences for your loss.”

She felt the Parker woman’s study and then the woman sighed and opened the door farther. She was a pretty woman, though her looks were fading with age. She had grey-blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, and wore a chambray shirt loose over paint-stained jeans. She peered out at the street.

“Thank you for your kind words. The media truck must have just left.”She pulled the door farther open and stepped aside. “Would you like to come in? You don’t look like you’re with them. You look like you’ve been out paddling today—I can tell by the windburn. Perhaps we can have a cup of tea? Or have you eaten? I have dinner almost ready.”

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, and she did have a few questions. She glanced at Alice, ignored the girl’s urgent head jerk toward the road, and stepped into the house.

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