The Peculiar Case of the Red Tide Read online

  The Peculiar Case of the Red Tide

  by

  Constance Barker

  Copyright 2018 Constance Barker

  All rights reserved.

  Similarities to real people, places or events are purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Sign up for Constance Barker’s New Releases Newsletter

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Chapter One

  The argument was already explosive by the time I stepped through the front door of the mansion, and I barely managed to duck beneath a book that had been flung across the room. Agnes’s face was red, and it was obvious that she was barely able to refrain from screaming. Isabella didn't seem to have such control. I idly wondered what I had done to deserve such dramatic companions, though I knew I wouldn’t trade the two for the world. Not after all we’d been through together. I suppose introductions are in order. My name is Abigail Bean, and I always considered myself unremarkable in every way. The perfect picture of average, in spite of attempts to spread my wings and fly. I was more than moderately mediocre. That is, that’s what I’d always thought about myself until I met one Agnes Astor Smith. It’s safe to say that my life took a turn for the strange when I became the woman’s assistant. All that had been missing, apparently, was a new friend who somehow fit into the bizarre puzzle that I was determined to solve—that’s where Isabella, or Izzy, came in. The apparent descendant of some ancient alchemist, she was supposedly the key to something great. As it stood, she only seemed to play a key part in trying my boss’s sanity. All the same, we made a pretty good trio, and although Agnes had seemed to be a bit of a loner, she’d readily invited Izzy to live in her massive estate. I was under the impression that they'd learned to get along a bit more, but the scene before me seemed to indicate otherwise.

  “You’re not my mother, Agnes! You can’t expect me to stay here while you go off on some exciting adventure and—oh. Hi there, little Bean,” Isabella ranted, cutting herself short as her eyes landed on me. She looked briefly apologetic for the book that had nearly clocked me upside the head, but returned her attention to Agnes with a bitter glare.

  “Oh, Isabella, please save the melodramatics. You’re in no shape to be gallivanting with Abigail and I, not with your injuries. You’ve not even healed from our last escapade—which you shouldn’t have even been involved in, honestly,” Agnes said wearily, glancing towards me with a roll of her eyes. “Abigail, please, talk some sense into your friend. She can barely even walk, and she’ll only slow us down—,” Agnes continued, and Isabella vaulted over the sofa she’d been standing behind, landing awkwardly on her permanently injured leg but managing to catch herself with her walking stick.

  “Slow you down!? More like keep you from getting killed. Unless you’ve forgotten how I got injured in the first place,” Isabella snapped, and Agnes narrowed her eyes in agitation, crossing the room to face the younger woman. I could only look on in concern as the two faced off, unable to ignore the tension resonating through their bodies.

  “So you blame Abigail and I, then? Is that what you’re saying?” Agnes asked coolly, though I could detect the vaguest hint of hurt in her voice. Isabella’s icy expression defrosted slightly, and she averted her eyes with a sigh.

  “Of course not. And I’d get injured a thousand times over if it meant keeping the two of you safe. Just... it’s not like I’m going to magically heal, sitting alone in this big house while you two go have fun. All I’m going to do is worry the whole time, and—” I was swift to cut Isabella off, stepping between the two of them and forcing them to stop bickering.

  “I don’t even know what you two are arguing about, so don’t pull me into it. Agnes, what on Earth have you planned now?” I asked in a deadpan voice, and Isabella grumbled under her breath, shifting her weight to her walking stick. Agnes leveled one final glare at her housemate for good measure before turning her attention to me.

  “A friend of mine with associates in the local nature reserve has informed me that there is a matter I would be foolish not to investigate. A local lake has somehow been dyed red, presumably by some sort of chemical. I intend to go take some samples and do a bit of testing in my nearby cabin,” she explained, speaking slowly as if she were speaking to a child. I narrowed my eyes a bit, feeling vaguely offended, but Isabella snapped her fingers to get my attention.

  “Don’t mind her. She’s still in ‘talk down to Isabella’ mode,” the dark haired woman explained, and Agnes looked as if she would snap again. “Tell me I’m wrong. You can belittle me all you want, but Abigail has no reason to stay and put up with you,” Isabella interrupted before the elder woman could even begin to speak. Agnes gritted her teeth, exhaling slowly before addressing me again.

  “She has a point. I didn’t mean to be condescending. It gets tiring dealing with a woman who has the mannerisms of a petulant toddler, you understand,” Agnes said with a tight lipped smile. Isabella rolled her eyes, looking as if she would like nothing more than to use her walking stick like a baseball bat and take the older woman’s head off.

  “And it gets tiring dealing with a snooty old hag who presents a facade of caring about your wellbeing, as well,” Isabella gritted out.

  “Enough!” I shouted, looking at each of them with a firm glare. Isabella met my gaze, holding it for a moment before averting her eyes with a sigh. Agnes did not break away so quickly, but she too seemed to admit defeat after a moment, seeming to resign herself to staring at the floor. “Alright, first of all, I accept your apology, Agnes. I also appreciate you sticking up for me, Izzy. I just don’t see why you two are griping at each other so much. I thought you two were getting along,” I pressed. The two refused to look at each other, and for a moment I felt as if I were dealing with two very tall children.

  “She won’t accept that she has limitations. Regardless of whether I’m to blame for her injury, that doesn’t change the fact that she is indeed hurt. Permanently,” Agnes said sullenly. Isabella shifted her weight to her good leg, muttering under her breath for a moment.

  “Loud enough for the class to hear you, Izzy,” I bit out.

  “I realize I have limitations, of course. But she’s right about one thing. My jacked up leg is permanent. Sitting at home feeling miserable isn’t going to make it any better. I’ve undergone physical therapy, and this is about as good as it’s going to get. I’m never going to walk normally again. Nothing is going to change that. But as much as she grinds my gears, I care about the old hag, and I care about you. If you’re going off to investigate something that could become dangerous, I am coming along,” Isabella said, refusing to give in so easily. I wasn’t sure what, exactly, could be dangerous about gathering samples from some weird lake, but I hadn’t expected Naples to be dangerous either.

  “You two are ridiculous. It’s far too early in the morning for you two to drive each other towards respective nervous breakdowns,” I sighed, shaking my head. They seemed to agree to an extent, sizing each other up before appearing to dismiss the matter entirely.

  “In any case, Aggie here has been
waiting for you to show up. I’m going to eat breakfast,” Isabella said brusquely, walking a bit awkwardly towards the kitchen. Agnes watched her go with obvious concern, and I watched Agnes with a bit of fondness.

  “I understand your concern, Agnes. She’s right though. You’re not her mother, and even if you were, she’s not a child,” I said gently. The oldest of our trio breathed a sigh, brushing her hair behind her ear and gesturing for me to follow her. I did so obligingly, unable to keep from laughing at how bullheaded the two of them could be. Agnes glowered at me, but said nothing as she led me to the library. I should have expected as much—most of our conversations took place in her workspace. However, just short of the library, she veered to the left and strode towards a staircase. “Agnes—” I began, but the older woman shushed me before insistently gesturing for me to continue following. I frowned, but trailed behind her as we ascended the stairs. I noted that in the upper level, the kitchen was visible from one of the halls and as I might have expected, that’s where Agnes stopped. I rolled my eyes at how juvenile the situation was, parting my lips to speak. I fell silent, however, as I noticed Isabella slumping into a chair and throwing her walking stick to the ground with a noticeable clatter.

  “She’s not a child, but she has been out of sorts. I have my reasons to be concerned. At first I thought it was just lingering bitterness about her injury, but... I have a feeling there is something more to it,” Agnes whispered, leaning against the banister of the hall and watching Isabella with a tense expression.

  “Maybe she’s homesick, or something,” I murmured. Oblivious to our position staring down at her, Isabella flinched as her phone began to ring. She answered grudgingly, speaking loudly in gruff Italian to whoever was on the other line. I raised a brow at Agnes, who only shrugged. Returning my attention to the woman we were spying on, I noticed that she had grown even more tense than she had during her argument with Agnes. “What is she saying?” I asked, feeling guilty for the invasion of privacy. The eldest of our trio frowned, seeming perturbed.

  “Something about a funeral. I didn’t think she had any remaining family in Naples,” she said quietly. Downstairs, Isabella grew increasingly agitated as she appeared to argue with whoever was on the other line, until she finally shouted something into the phone and tossed it across the room. I could hear the sharp sound of it cracking against the wall, and Agnes and I exchanged a look of concern. “She told them to ‘just take it all’, whatever that could be referring to,” Agnes explained. We fell silent as heart wrenching sobs interrupted our conversation, and I began to feel even more guilty for watching.

  “Let’s go to the library. We can... we can talk about our next trip,” I said carefully. Agnes nodded, lingering a moment longer before leading me back down the stairs. We pushed into the library, and the older woman seemed to relax visibly as soon as the sounds of our friend’s sobs were muffled. “So, this lake...,” I began awkwardly, and Agnes nodded silently, booting up her computer and opening an email. She clicked the most recent, apparently from a man named Robert she had mentioned before. There were several attachments, and she clicked on the first, enlarging a picture of the lake in question. It was a deep shade of red, looking almost like the lake was filled to the top with blood. My stomach churned, but I waited for Agnes to explain, refusing to look away.

  “Alright. This lake is a few cities over, in one of the state’s nature preserves, as I mentioned. Robert’s associates mentioned the situation to him in passing, but he immediately knew this was something I’d be interested in,” she started, clicking towards another attachment. This was some sort of chart that I couldn’t immediately read the text on, but as I leaned in, I realized it seemed to be documenting the lifespans of the aquatic life within the lake. I tilted my head, a bit confused to see a sharp leap in the chart around three years ago, hitting the peak at the last testing-—around a week ago, if I was reading correctly.

  “How do these two things correlate? A few fish living longer shouldn’t make a lake turn blood red, should it?” I asked. Agnes’ expression was tense, and she tapped her fingertips on her desktop for a moment before closing out of the email.

  “Theoretically, no it shouldn’t. I have a feeling that the two events are linked, just the same. It is too much of a coincidence to lack any scientific foundation,” she mused. We both went stiff as the door to the library opened, and I heard the distinct sound of Isabella dragging her injured leg as she walked.

  “So, I take it Aggie filled you in on the situation,” she said casually, her voice light and betraying no hint of the tears we’d heard her shedding.

  “Oh, uhm... yes! Of course! It’s all very exciting,” I replied awkwardly, turning to face her with a wide smile. Isabella raised a brow, seeming a bit taken aback by my forced cheerfulness.

  “Yeah, I figured you two would have a blast nerding out over the whole thing. Anyway. You’ve agreed to the trip then?” She pressed, striding towards us with a half smile of her own. I nodded, clasping my hands behind my back and rocking on my heels.

  “Yes, I’m looking forward to the trip. The whole... wilderness experience really calls out to me,” I stammered out, cursing how obvious I was being. She had to know we'd been spying on her. What else would explain how strangely I was acting? Agnes seemed to be of a like mind, her eyes narrowed critically upon me.

  “No luck convincing her to let me tag along?” She teased. I exchanged a look with the oldest woman of our trio, sure that leaving Isabella to deal with... whatever she was dealing with, alone, was the last thing that we wanted to do.

  “I’m not even sure my Dad is prepared to let me go off on another trip, especially after all the excitement of last time,” I chuckled, scratching the back of my neck. “I get the feeling he’s not particularly fond of my new boss,” I continued, seeing no need to lie for Agnes’ sake. The woman in question huffed a bit melodramatically before abruptly lurching out of her chair.

  “I have the perfect idea! If your father is reluctant to let you come along with me, I’ll just go introduce myself to the man. Once he’s seen what an upstanding individual I am, he’ll have no qualms seeing you off,” Agnes grinned, as if she had just come up with the most brilliant idea in the world. Although I felt it was likely the last thing we should do to convince my father, Isabella seemed entertained by the notion at least.

  “Aw, I didn’t know our little Bean was such a Daddy’s girl,” Isabella grinned, giving me a little nudge. I rolled my eyes, but didn’t dispute the fact. Although, I was sure my father was going to like me a lot less once I introduced him to my new friends.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Driving the long road to my father’s house wasn’t as relaxing as usual with two bickering women in the car with me. There had been much argument over who would sit in the front seat, and Isabella had pulled the ‘handicapped’ card. Now, the older woman was sitting sullenly in the backseat while Isabella propped her feet up on my dashboard. Saying I was startled by Isabella’s shift in personality would have been an understatement. There were no traces of tears in her eyes, not even the slightest hint of a flush to her cheeks. She looked genuinely happy to having a laugh at Agnes’ expense, and in spite of how annoyed the elder woman was about being banished to the backseat, she seemed somewhat relieved as well. A morose Isabella wasn’t particularly thrilling to deal with, and it was very rare that she allowed herself to shed a tear or feel sorry for herself. In such cases, she tended to default to righteous anger, not devastation.

  It was all the same, I had to banish the thoughts of what I’d seen in the kitchen. I certainly didn’t want Isabella to realize I’d been spying on her, which would have been bad enough even if Agnes hadn’t been leading the stakeout. If Isabella had managed to calm down and become outright cheerful, it couldn’t have been that drastic of a problem. Maybe a funeral for a distant relative, or an old friend... I could see how something like that could be saddening for a brief time. It was almost a relief to hear her snide remarks tow
ards the woman in the backseat, and although Agnes was as biting as ever in her replies, there was the occasional moment that she would meet my gaze in the rearview and smile a secretive little smile. Fortunately, Isabella was oblivious to these brief glances. She was too busy humming along with the radio and munching on the occasional piece of chocolate. I don’t know where she kept them all, considering her usual bag was missing for that trip, but I was convinced she simply bought out the stocks at the local grocers when something went on sale. She always had some form of the sugary treat with her, and she seemed to be indulging even more than usual.

  “So, tell us about your Dad,” Isabella piped up, reaching out to turn down the radio and focus her attention on me. I was tempted to snap at her for touching my radio dial—didn’t she know that was sacred? I managed to refrain, however, noting that Agnes seemed somewhat interested as well. I exhaled in a huff, tapping my fingertips on the steering wheel. I cursed the long drive to my father’s house, not for the first time, and tried to think of something interesting to impart on them. Maybe I could come up with some lie about my father being a secret agent, or a mad scientist, or... I could go with something that was actually believable. “Lordy, Little Bean, don’t give yourself a stroke. It’s a pretty cut and dry question,” Isabella murmured, smiling a bit.

  “I don’t know what to say! He’s just... my Dad. You know how it is,” I sighed, noting that Isabella seemed to tense a little as she tore her gaze away from me.

  “I guess,” she said agreeably, seeming to lose interest in the subject. I felt a bit bad, but how does one talk up their average Dad to their extraordinary friends? He liked to hunt. He had a beat up convertible that he loved more than almost anything—hell, he probably loved the thing more than he loved me. He was tall and barrel wide and looked like one would expect a Dad to. “My Dad was a bit of a jerk. That’s why I just sorta... wondered,” Isabella said idly, popping another piece of chocolate in her mouth. Feeling guiltier than before, I offered her an apologetic smile before looking back towards the road.