Hugo took a pair of gloves from his other coat pocket and pulled them on, eyes on the table now. “No. I can’t think of any reason. It can’t be him. He’s changed, but I can’t see him hurting his own family, even if we are a bunch of sinners to him. Now, really, Detectives. I’ve had quite the shock today. I’d like to go now.”
They watched him walk to the door. Josie said, “If you think of anything that might be relevant to our investigation, please don’t hesitate to contact us.”
Wordlessly, Hugo gave a final nod and left.
Noah waited until the door closed behind him to ask, “What do you think?”
Josie shook her head. She pulled her phone out to find a text from Gretchen. She was still meeting with her former partner on the Philly PD. Josie knew that in addition to the case, they had a lot to catch up on. Gretchen would likely be out a good part of the night. “I think we need some sleep so we can think more clearly.”
Noah walked over to her and held out a hand, which she took. Pulling her up and into his arms, he kissed her. “Let’s call it a night.”
Exhausted, Josie and Noah drove home. Josie’s family was already asleep in the spare rooms. She and Noah took Trout for a late-night walk and then collapsed into bed together, sleep coming so fast and furious that Josie fell into it and mercifully didn’t dream of either her grandmother being murdered or Eden Watts slipping away.
She was roused awake hours later by Noah. Gently, he shook her shoulder. She heard him calling her name as if from another room but when she opened her eyes, he was standing over her at the side of the bed, bare-chested and wearing only boxer shorts. His brown hair was mussed, and he held her ringing cell phone in one hand. Its screen glowed with an incoming call. She didn’t recognize the number. He squinted against the light of the phone’s display. “Your phone’s been going crazy, but I don’t recognize the number.”
The ringing stopped. Josie had another look at the number before the screen went dark. It was local. “I don’t recognize it either,” she said. “But a call at four in the morning can’t be good.”
Noah reached over to the nightstand and flicked on the lamp. Beneath the covers, Trout snored on, unaffected. The phone began ringing again. It was the same number.
She swiped answer. “This is Josie Quinn.”
A man’s voice said, “The detective? One of ’em detectives who was out here the other night?”
“Where’s out here, sir?” Josie asked, blinking to get her eyes to adjust.
“Oh, right. Russell Haven Dam. This is Will Wilson. The night duty operator. I didn’t want to call 911 on account of I don’t really want the press out here crawling all over the place again and neither does my supervisor, but I got a problem.”
Noah’s eyes sharpened as he overheard the conversation.
“What kind of problem, Mr. Wilson?” Josie asked.
“Well, I’m afraid we’ve got another body out here.”
Twenty-Nine
Forty-five minutes later, Josie, Noah, Gretchen, and the Chief were standing inside the hydroelectric power station staring at Will Wilson, as he stood before the door on the lower level marked “Counting Room.” “Now, this here’s real disturbing,” he told them. Josie could tell by the pallor of his skin that whatever he was about to show them was indeed disturbing, but all she could think of were the words that her mind had started chanting on a loop the moment she got his call. Please don’t be Amber. Please don’t be Amber. Please don’t be Amber.
Chief Chitwood raised a bushy eyebrow at the man. “You got my entire team up in the middle of the night to come out here. You better have something disturbing behind that door.”
Wilson lifted the ballcap off his head and put it back on. “I didn’t call your entire team, just that one there.” He pointed to Josie.
“Never mind,” Gretchen said irritably. “Let us see it.”
“Now just a minute,” said Wilson. “Do you all know what a counting room is?”
Josie could tell by the tortured look on Gretchen’s face that she, too, was worried they were about to be shown Amber’s body. Gretchen opened her mouth and started to yell. “Mr. Wilson—” but Noah stopped her, putting a hand on her forearm.
She stared at him. Josie read the silent communication from where she stood. Gretchen needed this over with. If the body Wilson had called about was Amber, they all needed this to be over with as soon as possible.
“It’s okay,” Noah whispered to her. She shook her head and turned away. Josie saw her wipe at her eyes.
Turning back to Wilson, Noah said, “It’s the place where you sit and count the number of American Shad that pass through the fish lift in the spring so you can keep track of their migration.”
Wilson looked surprised. “Yes, son. That’s correct.”
Chief Chitwood growled and tried to get past Wilson but the man blocked him. “I’m bein’ serious here, Chief. When I let my plant manager in here, he about fainted. I’m tryin’ to warn you.”
“I’ve seen plenty in my time,” the Chief told him through gritted teeth.
Josie swallowed her trepidation and played along. “How do you count the fish that come through the lift? Does this room overlook the lift?”
“No,” Wilson said. “We got a window in this room. When the lift comes up from downriver and over the dam, it’s full of water and fish, and there’s a big window, kind of like if you were at an aquarium, that looks into the vat. We got a light in there and as the water is released upstream, we can see the fish swimming by.”
Josie was glad they hadn’t stopped for coffee. She had a pretty good idea where Wilson was going with this, and it made her stomach churn.
Patiently, Noah said, “Mr. Wilson, I appreciate the care you’re taking, but the sooner we can see what you brought us here to see, the sooner we can begin our investigation. I can promise you none of us will faint.”
Josie knew that was true. They were all seasoned. Yet, if it was Amber behind the door, none of them could be certain that they wouldn’t lose their composure.
Wilson shook his head like he didn’t believe it but turned toward the door, opening it slowly. The room was small and dimly lit with the station’s signature cinderblock walls. An L-shaped desk took up one corner. Above it, affixed to the wall, was a large chrome box with various buttons that Josie guessed controlled some mechanisms of the fish lift. Next to it, just as Wilson had described, was a huge thick window, exactly like the kind one would find in an aquarium. From somewhere on the other side came a faint light, setting the entire window aglow in murky brown and green.
There, floating suspended on the other side of the glass like some kind of life-sized lab specimen, was Lydia Norris.