A car door opens. The lights are still going, the glow of the headlights reflected off the trees, making it harder to see here in the shadows. The door closes with the heavy click of a serious car, and I realize I’ve got my hands in prayer formation, the knuckles of my thumbs against my forehead.
“Just go,” I’m whispering. “Just fucking leave.”
A powerful flashlight beam plays across the creek, lighting up the rocks and fallen trees opposite of us.
Please. Leave.
“All right,” a man’s voice calls out. “I know someone’s over there and by the looks of it you’re not wearing a lick of clothing, so just come on out with your hands raised.”
Daniel and I look at each other. My heart’s hammering wildly, so loud I can hear it over the rush of the creek.
“If you’re thinking that I’ll just turn around and leave if you don’t come out, you have got another think coming,” he calls. “You’re trespassing on private property, and if you make me put my waders on and come into that creek, I can assure you I’ll be in a much less good mood than I am right now.”
“Charlie,” Daniel murmurs, and I shake my head.
“He’s bluffing,” I murmur back. “He’ll just give my car a ticket, do some more shouting and then decide we’ve left—"
“Old Man Williams is talking about pressing charges, you know,” the officer calls. “And right now, I’m inclined to talk him out of it, but make me look any harder and I might not be.”
Oh fuck. Daniel exhales, his jaw clenched, but before he can step forward, I put a hand on his chest.
“Stay there,” I murmur, and before he can do or say anything, I cross my arms over my boobs and step out from behind the rock.
Instantly, there’s a bright light in my eyes and I can’t see a goddamn thing.
“Just one of you?” the voice says. He sounds very skeptical.
“Just me,” I say, still squinting. I want to shade my eyes, but I don’t want to move my hands.
“Is that so?” he asks. Footsteps come closer, then stop.
“Yes, it’s so,” I say, annoyed despite myself at the light. “I just… I was really hot today, so I wanted to take a quick swim. Alone. By myself. Officer.”
I tack that last bit onto the end in the hope that it sounds respectful enough to work.
“There seem to be two pairs of pants on this here rock,” he points out.
I say nothing. He sighs.
“Miss, if you can’t tell me the truth, I’m still going to have to—”
There’s a splash off to my left, and Daniel steps from behind the rock. We’re still both waist-deep in the water, so when the light hits him, he shields his face instinctively.
“Daniel,” the officer says, and now that the light’s not on me, I squint through the dark, trying to see him. I can make out that he’s stout, middle-aged, but that’s all.
Daniel clears his throat.
“Hello, Officer Sherman,” he says.
“I thought you’d cleaned up your act, son,” Officer Sherman says. “I haven’t seen you in years.”
Daniel doesn’t say anything.
“It’s my fault,” I say, still hugging my boobs. “This was my idea, I talked him into coming here.”
“And you’re the fiancée, correct?” he says. “Congratulations, by the way.”
“Thank you,” Daniel says.
“Right,” I say. “Charlotte McManus.”
Finally, he turns his flashlight off, though the police cruiser’s headlights are still on, bright in the dark night.
“McManus,” he says, both hands now on his hips, his feet shoulder width apart, still in a fighting stance. “Do you know an Elizabeth McManus?”
“She’s my sister,” I say.
“She’s coordinated with the department for career day at the middle school the last few years,” he says. “Very nice woman. Responsible. Responds promptly to all my emails.”
“Yeah, she’s good at that,” I say, still cold and hugging my boobs, wondering how long we’re going to have to talk about how great my sister is.
“All right, you two,” he finally says. “Since there seems to be no actual harm here, I’m going to turn my car around and wait for you to appear at the mouth of this road. If you’re not there in five minutes, then we proceed according to the letter of the law. Otherwise, I came down here and couldn’t find a damn thing. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” Daniel responds promptly, and I echo him.
Officer Sherman nods briskly, then turns. He starts to walk away, stops, looks back at us.
“Thomas was a good man and a good officer,” he says, suddenly. “I don’t believe I ever gave you my condolences after he passed.”
Daniel’s stone-still, momentarily struck dumb. Then he swallows, his hands rubbing each other mindlessly.
“Thank you,” he calls, and Officer Sherman walks off. He gets back in his car, slams around a three-point turn in the small clearing, and then bumps back up the road, leaving us in the moonlight.