Free The Realm of the Shadows (Tropical Breeze Cozy Mystery Book 2) by Mary Bowers Page A

toward the river, listening.
    “What is it, Seth?” Teddy asked tensely.
    “He’s picking up something,” Jazz said, her voice edged with fear and her long nails crawling up her own arms. “It’s her .”
    “Oh, God,” Pluto said. “It’s – it’s where she went in. Into the river. It’s where Betsy died saving her child.”
    “Could he have picked something up so quickly?” Wizard said, detached, but interested.
    Teddy began some blather about spirits not knowing how to tell time, but Seth took the focus away, yielding to the siren call and flying off, stage left. The camera followed and suddenly everybody was moving: the cast, the crew, me, Michael, and whatever spirits had gathered to watch the show.
    Seth was far out ahead of the pack, and the lights picked him up again standing precariously on the seawall, looking down into the water.
    “Seth!” Teddy called. “Stop! You must resist her! Fight it, Seth!” He turned to the videographer running along beside him, confiding to the viewers. “The spirits are sometimes jealous, even spiteful. We have known them to put us in danger before. We have to catch up with Seth before he’s bewitched into doing something dangerous!”
    He outpaced the videographer, who kept filming Teddy as he sprinted for the river.
    I looked at Michael and he looked at me. “This is getting out of hand,” I said.
    “Don’t worry. They probably practiced it in daylight, before we got here. They’re used to creating drama, or who would watch the show?”
    We stayed back about ten yards from the action, but Seth was clearly visible in the stark lights, standing on the seawall in a gust of wind. He was gazing out over the water, his hair lit white in a throbbing halo around his head, his lithe, young-man’s body stretched up in a pose of surrender.
    “I feeeeeel her,” he sang ecstatically.
    “Oh, brother,” I whispered to Michael, but I was getting a little scared myself. Whatever nonsense they were up to, I wanted them to get it over with and get Seth down off that wall. He looked like he was about to fall in.
    “Yes,” Seth said, lifting his voice to the starry sky. “Yes – you can have me. Embrace me. I’m here for you , Betsy. Take me .”
    And he jumped in.
    It was an almost sexual surrender, and he made a beautiful physical gesture in diving, entering the water almost without a splash.
    “The river’s too low,” I said to Michael, getting really frightened. “He’ll break his neck.”
    “It’s high tide,” he told me. “Relax.”
    Somebody in the crew shushed us, but apparently Teddy had heard us. “Is the tide out? How deep is this water?”
    Pluto stepped up. “I researched the area before we got here, and studied the local tide charts. At low tide it’s only about seven feet, but high tide is in half an hour. He should be okay, but we’ve got to get him out of there!”
    Suddenly Pluto dropped his e-meter or whatever it was, stepped out of his flip flops and jumped in.
    Jazz, conveying fear and courage, flipped the sandals off and dove in after him.
    We waited tensely, while the lights focused on Teddy and Wizard, having a chit-chat about the dangers of their chosen field.
    Minutes passed.
    It seemed to occur to everybody at the same time that the divers had been in the water too long.
    Suddenly Pluto and Jazz broke the surface, hauling themselves half onto the seawall.
    Pluto sputtered, choked and clawed for purchase on the cracked and crumbly wall.
    “ I can’t find him !” he shrieked.
    “He’s nowhere,” Jazz said hoarsely, gasping for air. “Oh, God, Teddy, this is for real! We can’t find him!”
    The situation palpably changed, and the amateur theatricals flashed over into a surge of real panic. Prickles crawled over my scalp and arms and I couldn’t turn my head to look at Michael. After a frozen moment, we ran to the seawall with everybody else and stared down into the river.
    “Lights!” Teddy screamed. “ Get the lights on