Chapter 2 - The Man Beneath the Water
I had spent forty-five years married to Arthur.
I knew the sound of his footsteps.
I knew how he breathed when he was sleeping.
And when that hand appeared in the river, I recognized the wedding ring before I saw his face.
"Arthur!"
I lunged toward the water.
For one horrible moment, nothing surfaced.
Then his gray head appeared between two floating branches.
He coughed and reached desperately toward shore.
"Evelyn!"
I grabbed a long root with one hand and stretched my other arm toward him.
"Take my hand!"
He tried.
The current pulled him away.
I screamed his name.
Arthur disappeared beneath the water again.
I thought I'd lost him.
Then his fingers caught the root beside mine.
I dropped onto my stomach and grabbed his wrist.
My shoulder screamed in protest.
"Pull yourself up!"
His soaked shirt dragged heavily against the current.
He kicked against the muddy bank.
Together, we fought until he collapsed beside me.
For a while, neither of us could speak.
We lay beneath the trees, coughing river water onto the ground.
Then I turned toward him.
"Did you know?"
Arthur closed his eyes.
I grabbed his shirt.
"Look at me."
He opened them.
I barely recognized the frightened man staring back.
"Did you know Marcus was going to throw me into that river?"
His lips trembled.
"Evelyn, I tried to stop him."
"That's not what I asked."
He looked away.
And with that single movement, something inside our marriage broke.
I released his shirt.
"You knew."
Arthur reached toward me.
I pulled back.
"He told me he only wanted to frighten you," Arthur whispered. "He said you needed to understand how serious things had become."
"Serious?"
My voice rose.
"He threw me off a moving boat!"
"I didn't know he'd actually do it."
"But you knew he was threatening me."
Arthur covered his face.
I remembered every strange thing that had happened over the last six months.
The missing bank statements.
The arguments between Marcus and Arthur that stopped when I entered a room.
The papers Marcus kept asking me to sign.
He'd said they concerned estate planning.
I'd refused because the numbers didn't make sense.
Then Marcus began calling me forgetful.
At first, he said it jokingly.
Later, he said it in front of other people.
I looked at Arthur.
"What was in that folder last night?"
He said nothing.
"Arthur."
He swallowed.
"Documents transferring control of the Bellamy property."
I stared at him.
"You told me that property was sold."
"I thought it had been."
"Then why would Marcus need my signature?"
Arthur looked toward the warning sign.
"Because your father's estate never completed the transfer."
For several seconds, I couldn't understand his words.
"My father died thirty years ago."
"I know."
"And you've known about this?"
Arthur's shoulders sank.
"Only recently."
I wanted to believe him.
But he'd already lied to me.
I stood unsteadily.
"We need to find a road."
Arthur reached for my elbow.
I stepped away.
"Don't touch me."
The hurt in his face almost made me cry.
Almost.
Then the siren sounded again.
Its mechanical wail rolled over the trees.
Arthur looked terrified.
"What is that?"
I pointed toward the red sign.
"Floodgate warning."
His eyes widened.
"The gates still work?"
"Apparently."
Water began lapping higher against the roots.
We had little time.
I led him uphill through the trees, following a narrow path nearly swallowed by weeds.
Every step hurt.
My shoes slipped in the mud.
Arthur stumbled behind me.
After several minutes, we reached the remains of an old wooden fence.
I recognized it immediately.
My father had built that fence himself.
He used to let me paint the posts every summer.
I touched the rotting wood.
Memories rushed through me.
My mother hanging laundry behind the house.
My father teaching me how to drive his battered pickup.
My younger brother Daniel chasing fireflies across the yard.
Daniel had disappeared shortly after the flood.
The authorities believed he'd fallen into the river.
We never found his body.
I had grieved for my brother for thirty-six years.
Standing beside that fence, I suddenly remembered something else.
Daniel had argued with a local developer days before he vanished.
His name was Victor Hale.
Arthur stepped beside me.
"Why have we stopped?"
I pointed through the trees.
There, beyond the fence, stood a building.
It was mostly hidden by vines, but its brick chimney remained intact.
"My father's maintenance house," I whispered.
Arthur stared.
"I thought everything here was demolished."
"So did I."
We approached carefully.
The front door hung crooked.
Inside, broken furniture covered the floor.
The air smelled of wet wood and dust.
Then I noticed fresh footprints.
Large boots.
Several different sets.
Someone had been there recently.
A half-empty water bottle sat near the window.
Beside it lay a cigarette butt that hadn't been there long.
I held up my hand.
"Arthur. Someone is using this place."
He looked around nervously.
"Maybe hunters."
"With a locked metal cabinet?"
The cabinet stood against the far wall.
A new padlock secured its doors.
Something about it felt wrong.
I moved closer.
Before I could examine it, a vehicle engine sounded outside.
Arthur grabbed my wrist.
"Hide."
We ducked behind a fallen wardrobe.
Through the cracked window, I saw a black SUV stop near the fence.
Two men climbed out.
One carried a radio.
The other carried a long flashlight.
"Marcus said the old woman went in the water near here," the first man said.
My stomach tightened.
The second man looked toward the maintenance house.
"And the husband?"
"Apparently he made things complicated."
The first man laughed.
"Well, the boss wants proof they're both gone."
I covered my mouth.
Arthur's breathing became shallow.
The men approached the door.
A shadow stretched across the floor.
Then one of them said something that changed everything.
"Make sure nobody finds the survey records. If the Bellamy woman discovers what her brother left behind, we're finished."
My fingers curled against the dirt.
My brother?
Daniel?
The man stepped inside.
His flashlight swept across the room.
May you like
It stopped inches from my shoes.
And I knew that if he moved one step closer, neither Arthur nor I would leave that building alive.
