Carnal Innocence

blood slowed to a crawl, he stared at the trailing white hand.
    “Jesus. Oh my Jesus.”
    “Catfish won’t do any more than nibble,” Dwayne said placidly. He swore when Tucker gripped his arm. “What’s got into you now?”
    “I think we found Darleen,” he managed to say, then closed his eyes.
    Some prayers, he thought, just weren’t meant to be answered.

c·h·a·p·t·e·r 24
    S ober and shaken, Dwayne dragged himself out of the water. On his hands and knees he crouched on the grass, fighting his rebellious stomach.
    “Christ, Tuck. Jesus bleeding Christ. What’re we going to do?”
    Tucker didn’t answer. He lay on his back, staring up at heat-hazed stars. It took enough effort just to concentrate on breathing when he was so cold, so bitterly cold.
    “In the pond,” Dwayne said, his throat clicking as he swallowed. “Somebody dropped her in our pond. We were in there with her. Jesus, we were
swimming
with her.”
    “She’s past being bothered by it.” He wanted to toss an arm over his eyes. Maybe that would help block out the image of that hand sticking out of the dark water, its fingers curled. As if it had been reaching for him. As if it would grab hold and pull him under.
    It had been worse because he’d felt obliged to be certain. To be certain it was Darleen Talbot, and to assure himself that she was beyond help.
    So he’d gritted his teeth and had taken that stiff, dead wrist, tugging against the weight that held the bodydown. And the head had bobbed up. He’d seen—oh, God, he’d seen what the knife had begun and what the fish were already ending.
    The human form was so frail, he thought now. So vulnerable. So easily whittled away into something hideous.
    “We can’t just leave her in there, Tuck.” But Dwayne shuddered at the prospect of going back into the water and touching what had once been Darleen Talbot. “It’s not decent.”
    “I think we have to.” Tucker thought regretfully of the bottle he’d tossed away. A few swallows of sour mash would do him some good just now. “At least until Burke gets here. You go in and call him, Dwayne. One of us ought to stay here. Call Burke, and tell him what we found. Tell him Agent Burns better come along.” Tucker sat up to drag off his wet shirt. “And bring me out some dry smokes, will you? I wouldn’t say no to a beer either,” he began, then swore when he caught sight of Caroline walking toward them. Tucker scrambled up, intercepting her after three long strides.
    “Glad to see me?” Caroline laughed and gave him a quick, hard hug. “You two decide to take a swim? Della sent me down to—”
    “Go on back up with Dwayne.” Tucker wanted her as far away from death and misery as possible. “Go on up and wait for me.”
    “I’ll wait for you.” Drawing back, she saw by his face that there was trouble. Cautious, she looked from Tucker to his brother. Dwayne’s lip had opened up again, and the blood was dark against his pale face. “Have you been fighting? Dwayne, you’ve got a split lip.”
    He ducked his head. Della’d give him hell about it. “I’ll call Burke.”
    “Burke?” Caroline grabbed Tucker’s arm when he tried to nudge her along. “Why do you need Burke?” Her heart did a slow roll in her chest. “Tucker?”
    She’d know soon enough, and it might as well come from him. “We found her, Caroline. In the pond.”
    “Oh, God.” Instinctively, she looked toward the water, but Tucker shifted to block her vision.
    “Dwayne’s going up to call Burke. You go with him.”
    “I’ll stay with you.” She shook her head before he could protest. “I’ll stay, Tucker.”
    When Tucker merely shrugged, Dwayne took off in a half run. A whippoorwill began to call, sweet and insistent, for a mate.
    “Are you sure?” Even as she asked, Caroline knew the question was foolish.
    “Yeah.” He blew out a long breath. “I’m sure.”
    “God, poor Happy.” She had to ask the rest, but it took a moment to force the words from her throat. “Was it like the others?” Caroline took his hand, holding tight until his gaze shifted to hers. “I want to know.”
    “It was like the others.” Firmly, he turned her away from the lake. With his arm around her waist they listened to the night bird’s song and watched the lights of Sweetwater glow against the dark.
    The official process worked with callous efficiency. Men crowded around the pond, their faces washed white by the harsh spotlights hooked to