The Drowning Girls (Detective Josie Quinn #13)

Weee-wooo. Wee-wooo.

The zigzagging dirt path ended at a long, flat expanse of mud, dirt, and dead, trampled greenery. Beyond that was the water release chute. On the riverbank side, there was only a slim, crumbling half-wall separating the chute from the shore. It tapered off at the bottom of the chute where they now stood. Large stones rose up to meet them. The water snaked through them, the line where the riverbank ended and the river began blurred and indistinct. Josie felt her boots sink into mud. Even in the freezing cold she could smell the fetid aroma of soil and water mixing with storm water runoff and waste from the wildlife. The wind lashed at them with greater ferocity as it came off the river.

The flashing orange light was weaker here on the bank, so they used their torches to pan the long, concrete chute. It was exactly as she remembered it from the cases with the kayakers—topped by a large metal gate and with a much higher wall on the side opposite the bank, the curved concrete barrier separating it from the spillway. Josie estimated that the chute was twenty to twenty-five feet across. Although it was no longer used as a fish ladder but for water release, its condition was poor. Most of its steps were cracked and broken. Rocks were strewn everywhere and in several places, large boulders had rolled down from the incline along the riverbank and come to rest in the chute.

Weee-wooo. Weee-wooo.

She felt Mettner’s hand clamp down on her forearm a second before Gretchen cried out, “There!”

Josie’s eyes searched the chute, but Gretchen and Noah’s flashlight beams were jumping erratically as they ran up toward the metal gate, keeping to the riverbank. More sounds joined the shrieks of the siren. A metallic creak and then the thunderous roar of water. The water release had begun.

“What is it?” Josie shouted, trying to pick her way after Noah and Gretchen, even as Mettner held onto her arm. With a steely grip, he turned her flashlight beam so that it lined up with his, shining up and toward the other side of the chute. Several boulders had collected there, leaving what looked like a crease between them and the chute wall.

“It’s her!” Mettner cried.

Then he was gone. Josie steadied the flashlight, again searching for the crease, the beam of her light weaker the further out it reached.

Weee-wooo. Weee-wooo.

The rush of water was getting louder now, closer.

Her torch found the spot once more. This time, she saw what everyone else had seen: a mess of dark auburn curls, like a tumbleweed with nowhere to go. A vise tightened around her chest. Even over the water and the sirens, she could hear Noah, Gretchen, and Mettner shouting from several feet away. They were higher up, closer to the gate. The water had already reached them. It crashed against the opposite wall, the base of the fish ladder, and the stones scattered all about with deadly force.

“…won’t make it…” Noah was shouting as he held Mettner back from trying to cross the chute, to get to Amber.

The water hadn’t yet reached her.

Everything was happening so quickly—heartbeats, it seemed—and yet, in Josie’s mind, each and every second seemed to be slowed down. Between the strobing orange lights and the flashlight beams, she was able to see the wall of water smashing and battering its way down the chute, whitewater rising several feet in the air. She watched her colleagues arguing, trying to stop Mettner from killing himself by attempting to rescue Amber. She saw the distance from the water, to herself, to Amber—a triangle. Noted the rocks standing between her and Amber—footholds if she was swift enough. Several large gouges in the wall across from her, which separated the chute from the spillway, would hug her fingers and toes if she vaulted herself up swiftly enough. She could straddle the wall, avoid the water, pull Amber up, maybe keep her out of the water long enough for the gates to close.

The calculations took place in her mind at lightning speed.

Weeee-wooo. Weee-wooo.

Even in the best-case scenario, she could still get killed. Swept away, crushed against the rocks. Then both of them would be dead—if Amber wasn’t dead already. Surely, she was already dead.

The beam of Josie’s flashlight bobbed toward Amber’s hair once more. Time was running out.

Weee-wooo. Weee-wooo.

“…Stop! Mett! You’re not going out there! You’ll die. She’s already gone, man!”

A pale hand emerged from the mess of hair, from the cleft in the boulders, waving weakly.

Josie’s stomach dropped to her feet. “Shit,” she mumbled.

Then she tossed her flashlight aside and leaped directly into the path of the raging water.





Six





Somehow, over the sirens and the pounding of the oncoming water, she heard the cries of her team, Noah’s most loudly. “Josie, no!” She didn’t have time to register the prick of guilt in her heart. Her body was on autopilot now, launching from the half-wall on the riverbank and into the chute, feet barely touching each stone as she cut a path straight toward the opposite wall above Amber. It was just like when she’d been a kid and her grandmother, Lisette, had taught her to play The Floor Is Lava—jumping from one of piece of furniture to another to avoid falling into it. Light feet, soft touch. In seconds, she was flying over Amber’s head, the toe of her boot catching one of the gouges expertly. Outstretched hands strained to reach the top of the wall, the concrete tearing at her gloves as she just caught the edge of it.

She felt the spray of water on her face like icy needles hitting her. The water slammed past the space she’d just covered, smacking her left side up to her thigh just as she pulled herself entirely onto the wall. Straddling it like she was riding a horse, she ignored the pain and cold seeping through her jeans.

Weee-wooo. Weee-wooo.

She lowered her chest onto the wall and reached down, searching through the onslaught of water for Amber’s hand. In all the mental calculations she’d made in the space of a few heartbeats, she hadn’t factored in the height of this wall. Her coat wasn’t helping, its puffiness taking up inches she desperately needed to reach Amber. Taking a deep breath, she sat up, pulled her coat off and with it, her gloves, and tossed them away. Then she swung both legs around, letting them dangle over the spillway side—a fall that she knew without looking would surely kill her.

Josie folded her upper body over the chute side of the wall, a human seesaw, and reached both hands down into the churning current. The water was so cold, within seconds she could no longer feel her fingers. Still, she searched until her hand hit something soft. Her body rocked as she grasped it with both hands, knowing immediately it was a hand. She tightened her abdomen and pushed the tops of her knees into the other side of the wall, bracing her body to give herself enough leverage to pull Amber up. If she could just get her head above water, she might have a chance.