Fathom Read online

  FATHOM

  Copyright 2021 © L.L. Standage

  All rights reserved. Unauthorized distribution or reproduction is strictly prohibited without the express written permission of the publisher.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover and interior design by

  We Got You Covered Book Design

  To chocolate chips,

  who have been my friends

  through many adventures.

  Contents

  1. Midnight Marine Biology is Not a Good Idea

  2. Mermaid Girl

  3. Hottie McScottie

  4. The Photo Shoot Crasher

  5. Mermaid Girl Again

  6. The Dream and the Clam

  7. A Body and Chase

  8. Under Arrest

  9. “Not One of Them”

  10. Special Treatment

  11. Sardines and Insanity

  12. Project Fathom

  13. You Have No Idea What You’ve Done

  14. Midnight Meetings

  15. Deepest Revelations

  16. I Don’t Trust Her

  17. Bottom Feeders and Flirting

  18. “He Hates What You Are”

  19. Reconnaissance and Retrieval

  20. Beneath the Surface

  21. Questions and Answers

  22. Polo Shirt’s Return

  23. Falling

  24. Pizza, Cards, and Serious Trouble

  25. Terms of Request

  26. The Scheming

  27. A Pinch of Trickery

  28. Tu Ad Cognoscendam Veritatem

  29. The Imbali de Mer

  30. Wrath of Sea

  31. I Don’t Want You to Cry

  32. Between Horizons

  33. A New Life

  34. Acceptance

  Also by L L Standage

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Park is Closed. Do not Enter, the little orange sign read. With a quick glance around to make sure mine was the only car on the street, I turned off the headlights and drove past the sign. A dark pay station came into view ahead. The streetlights shone weakly on the desolate road stretching beyond it. I pulled to the side of the road and watched. No one emerged from the pay station. I slipped my battered copy of Subtidal Marine Biology of California, a flashlight, and my cell phone into my book bag, then got out. The balmy ocean air touched my skin. Its salty scent filled my lungs, sending a thrill through my chest. Keys in my pocket, bag on my shoulder, and not a soul in sight. Perfect.

  I skirted around the empty pay station and smirked. What was the point of a having a pay station if no one sat in it to keep people out? I broke into a jog while the tension in my body eased. The road curved to an end at a parking lot, where weak moonlight shone on the trailhead’s sign. I pulled out a flashlight. Shadows leapt in the light’s beam as I started down the trail.

  My phone rang from my pocket. The name Sammie Ka-blammie came up on the caller ID.

  “Hey,” I said. “Did you make it to the beach?”

  “I’m almost there,” Samantha replied. “Did you make it to the tide pools?”

  “Heading down the trail.”

  She shuddered, audible even through the phone. “It’s creepy out here. I don’t know how you talked me into this. We haven’t even been here a day. Couldn’t you wait till morning to explore your little tide pools?”

  “Nope. Because Mother Nature is a brilliant, cruel mistress.”

  Sam laughed. “What?”

  “All the coolest stuff in nature happens in the middle of the night. I promise it’ll be worth it. Remember the red color we saw in the ocean when we first got here? That will make the—”

  “Bioluminous photon-planking-jibber-jabber,” said Sam. “I know. Doesn’t make the streets near the beach any less scary in the dark.”

  I laughed. “It’s bioluminescence from blooming phyto-plankton. And you could be out here taking pictures of tide pool specimens for me, but you just had to see the glowing waves.”

  “Whatever, Liv,” she said. I could almost hear the eye-rolling. “I’m not crazy enough to hike down a rocky trail in the dark. Just stay on the phone with me until I…” She trailed off and sighed. I smiled.

  “Do you see it?” I asked, picturing the otherworldly sight of technicolor waves off the coast of La Jolla.

  “Holy crap. The waves are literally glowing blue!”

  I laughed again. “You’re welcome. Take lots of pictures for me, ‘kay? I’ll see you when I get back.”

  “Be careful out there.”

  “Will do.”

  I hung up the phone, put it in my bag, and continued on the trail. Midnight made for risky hiking, but negative tide—the best time to explore tide pools—happened at 11:15 p.m. Did bioluminescence affect tide pool creatures too? I’d soon find out. My flashlight cast craggy shadows on the ridged sea cliffs. At the bottom of the trail, I stopped. Moonlight fell on the pools, which extended farther than I’d ever seen before. My breath left my lungs. Yeah, this trespassing thing was totally worth it.

  I grinned, stepped from rock to rock and knelt beside the nearest pool. My thick blonde hair fell on my face and blocked my view. Placing my book bag and flashlight on a nearby rock, I pulled the tresses into a knot on top of my head. Now then, what marine life would I find here at night? So far, nothing with bioluminescence. Disappointing, but I kept on. My flashlight beam lit up some hermit crabs, sea anemones, and a few mussels. I sighed in appreciation. That National Oceanic Association Scholarship was so in the bag. My ticket to freedom, to starting fresh, and to forgetting the pain of the crappiest senior year ever. No one could keep me from my dream career now. With my book open on my knee, I searched, identified, and searched some more.

  After half an hour of crouching, my legs started to cramp. I stood to stretch them out, then froze.

  Voices. Coming closer. I fumbled to turn off the flashlight and reached for my bag. My phone clattered to the rock. I lurched forward and snatched for it, but it vanished. My flashlight fell with a splash. No! Dozens of shallow pools of water, and my phone had to fall into the one chasm. I clenched my teeth, beating a fist against my thigh.

  The voices grew closer. Were they security guards? If I got caught, I could get banned from this place. Not happening. I threw my bag strap over my shoulder, stuffed my book inside, and scrambled toward the rocky outcroppings of the bluff. Two flashlight beams came into view on the trail. My heart beat louder than the low, lulling sound of surf and wind. I crouched behind a ridge of sea-carved rock.

  “Why go to the trouble at all, when you can just use the guy who’s coming?” said one low voice. The men stopped mere steps away from my hiding place.

  “Can’t. He won’t be able to.” The second man had a slight accent, but I couldn’t place it. “And you know, appearances matter most and I really wanted a—” A cell phone jingle interrupted him.

  “Yeah,” came the deeper voice of the first man. I dared a peek around the outcropping of rock. He pointed his flashlight toward the ocean as he spoke into the phone. He wore jeans and a sweatshirt with a San Diego Padres logo. Not anything I’d ever seen a security guard wear. A gun gleamed on his hip. My mouth went dry. “Yeah, we’re here.” He paused. “What? Ugh, the idiot’s lost. We’re at Point Loma, where you’re supposed to be.”

  “Give me the phone,” said the second man. He wore…a suit? At the tide pool? In the middle of the night? He tucked his small flashlight into his pocket and put the phone to his ear. “Do you have the item?” He paused again. “Good. Describe where you are.” He waited a moment, his gaze turning. I
dropped back behind the rock.

  “Call you back,” he continued slowly.

  No. No, no, no.

  Footsteps scraped over the stone, coming closer. I shut my eyes. Please, no. My hands shook. My teeth clenched.

  A flashlight beam shined in my face. I squinted against it. My breath seized.

  Please don’t hurt me.

  “And what on earth do we have here?” asked the man with the accent. Blinded by the flashlight, I couldn’t see his face. The scent of some kind of swanky men’s cologne came from him on the sea breeze. I stayed frozen.

  “What are you doing here?” asked the other guy. “Do you realize you’re trespassing?”

  He should talk. I wasn’t the only one trespassing. Whoever these men were, they had no business being here either. I shrank into my little alcove, about to pass out from cardiac overdrive, my jaw locked.

  One of them laughed. More footsteps crunched as the man in the sweatshirt came closer. I squeaked and flinched, but all he did was grab my book bag and rummage through it. His flashlight beam left a lingering black shadow in my retinas.

  “No ID,” he said. “No cell. Just a book and a flashlight.”

  “Aww. A little marine biologist, are we?” He laughed again. “I can appreciate that. Do you live around here?”

  Yeah, like I’m going to tell him. I bit my lower lip. After a long silence, he continued.

  “Negative tide is a great time to explore the tidal pools, isn’t it?”

  The tightness in my chest let up just a bit. Were they studying aquatic creatures like I was? Fat chance, but I swallowed and gathered enough nerve to ask.

  “Are you marine biologists?” My voice came out weak. The two men laughed.

  “Yeah, let’s go with that,” said the man in the sweatshirt, whose mocking tone told a different story. He pointed his flashlight at my eyes again, making his face indecipherable. I held a hand up against the beam.

  “Oh. Sorry, I’m just…I was just looking for…” I cast my brain around for some kind of sea life. Something a marine biologist would recognize. “A chambered nautilus.”

  “Ah,” said the suited man in his light accent. “Well, you’ll have to come back another time to find those, I’m afraid.”

  No, I wouldn’t. There were no chambered nautili in California. Not in the wild. These guys weren’t marine biologists. My suspicions confirmed, I clenched my teeth. The man took my bag from his companion and dropped it at my feet.

  “Maybe let’s not come back here in the middle of the night though, all right, musling?”

  I stared at the bag. My muscles wouldn’t budge.

  “Go on, now,” the man said again. “You’re not in trouble. But you will be if you don’t clear off and forget all this happened.”

  Breathe. Move. Go. I reached down and picked up my bag. Would these men shoot me in the back once I turned away? Would they ambush me and throw me in the ocean? I turned and took a cautious step away. Did the gun click, or was that just rocks crunching? Another step. The waves crashed. The tide was coming in. I stepped again. Then again. Soon I came to where the rocks made steps up toward the trail. The ocean became louder, as though it had been turned off the last few minutes and then suddenly came back to life.

  “Shouldn’t we do something about her?” said a voice behind me, still decipherable above the surf.

  “Nah. She’s harmless. A dumb kid doing dumb things.”

  I took a couple more steps, but one last thing carried over the breeze before the two men fell out of earshot: “… La Jolla Beach.”

  My heart dropped. Were they headed to La Jolla Beach next? No. Please. Anywhere but there. I resisted the urge to turn and get a better look at the two men. As my vision cleared, I scurried in the dark, my palms slick, my heart refusing to slow. I had to hurry.

  Had I just witnessed an almost-crime being committed? I shuddered, weak with gratitude that they let me go. Even so, those men couldn’t be up to any good. And they mentioned La Jolla beach…right where Samantha had gone to photograph the bioluminescence in the ocean. I quickened my pace, instinctively reaching for my cell phone before remembering it lay somewhere in the ocean. Those men were heading straight toward my best friend, and I couldn’t warn her. How could I have dropped my phone?

  I made my way to the top of the bluff, stumbling on loose rock and slippery sandstone. The moon cast weak light over the sandy trail. Finally, I reached the road and heaved a breath to calm my heart’s racing rhythm. I had a head start. I could get to Sam before they did.

  Once I hit even ground, I ran. I ran until my side ached and my lungs heaved. I passed the security pay station without a glance and hurried to my car.

  Please be in the house. Please be home, Sam.

  Should I check the beach first, or go home? She could be anywhere. I pushed on the gas pedal, grateful for the absence of traffic on the California highways. After pulling off the freeway and onto the meandering, criss-crossing streets near La Jolla beach, I searched for her. The streets were empty. I circled around near Scripps Pier and headed south, edging along the streets, trying to see between houses, hotels, and shops along the coast. I circled a parking lot and scanned the beach.

  Nothing. Traces of bioluminescence lingered in the waves. I picked up speed. Please be at home, Sam. A left turn, a few blocks, and a right turn later, I pulled into the driveway of my Aunt Shannon’s house—our home for the summer. I ran to the side door, fumbled with the key in the lock, and burst inside. The house was dark and quiet. I hurried forward, stumbling over mine and Samantha’s luggage that was still sitting in the kitchen.

  “Ow.” I gave my shin a quick rub, still hurrying. If she was still out there somewhere…ugh, how could I think pursuing our separate obsessions in the middle of the night was a good idea? I made a dash for her bedroom but stopped as something caught my eye. There. In the house’s front entryway, on a side table, sat Samantha’s camera.

  Unbelievable relief poured out my lungs in a long sigh. Just to be sure, I crept down the hall, toward the guest bedroom Sam claimed for our stay, and opened the door. Samantha’s gentle breathing issued from her curled-up form on the twin bed in the corner.

  I eased out, went to my own room, undressed, and collapsed into bed. Now reassured that I didn’t have to go searching for my bestie on a dark beach, exhaustion weighed my body and my eyelids. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder what might be happening less than a mile away, where two shady men were supposed to meet a third at La Jolla Beach.

  “Rise and shine, Livvie-le-Skivvie!”

  I jolted awake. Where was I? What time was it? What century? I blinked. Samantha came into focus in the bedroom door frame. She had pulled the top half her chin-length brunette hair into a ponytail and wore a hot pink tank top with black leggings.

  “Ugh. Too early,” I mumbled into my pillow.

  “It’s after ten a.m., Liv.” She came into the bedroom and plopped on my bed. “Come on, I’ve been up for hours. I’m bored.”

  I turned. She grinned at me. Should I tell her what happened last night?

  “How’d your photography go?” I asked.

  “Meh. I got spooked. I got some pictures of the cool waves, but I only stayed out there for about five minutes. I called you when I headed back, but you didn’t answer.”

  Probably because my phone had fallen into sea water. I rubbed my face.

  “It’s okay,” said Sam, misinterpreting my dejection. “Our next shoot will be better.” She grinned at me.

  “Our?” I asked. Her grin widened.

  “Hang on a second.” She walked out, her voice carrying down the hall. “Now, I want you to keep an open mind about this.”

  “I’m not doing anything that involves any kind of nudity!” I called to her.

  Sam laughed. “What?”

  “Streaking,” I replied. “Last time you asked me to keep an open mind, we were at graduation and you suggested—”

  “Oh, come on. You know I wasn’t seriou
s. I was just trying to cheer you up.” She reappeared, holding a big wad of shiny, green fabric. “No offense, but your ex-boyfriend is a cheating piece of trash who ruined your senior year. You deserved to laugh on our last night in high school, not cry over that man-slut.”

  I rolled over. “You know, your nostrils get really big whenever you talk about Landon.”

  She pounced back onto my bed and kept bouncing so I couldn’t go back to sleep.

  “Ugh, okay, okay.” I rolled back. “I give. What’s the fabric for?” I asked, pointing at the shiny bundle. She stopped bouncing.

  “So,” she began, a brilliant-ideas-are-exploding-in-my-brain kind of smile on her face. “Since I didn’t do much photography last night, I decided to get up early and go back to the beach to do some scouting.”

  “Scouting for what?”

  “For another photo shoot. I don’t want a lot of people around for this one. Plus, I want early morning lighting.”

  “I don’t think you’ll have a problem then. Have fun.”

  “See that’s the thing. I need your help with this one.” Her grin widened.

  “Why?” I asked again.

  “Well, when you first invited me to come here, I got to thinking. I want to expand my photography portfolio with some more creative stuff. So…” She held up the fabric and let it unroll in front of me. It was a long sheath of material ending in a fish tail.

  I stared at it. “What is that?”

  “It’s a mermaid tail! You love fishy stuff.”