Blackwater by Eve Bunting Read Free Book Online Page A

feet. Silently I went down the stairs.
    It was cold outside, the way it always is here in the mornings, with the damp rising up out of the river. There was no sound except for the low growl of the Blackwater at the bottom of the hill. Bobby Steig’s car was parked at the curb, and his big black cat lay on the roof, eyeing me with green marble eyes.
    Why was I going to the river? I had to, that was why. Once I’d read that the murderer always returns to the scene of the crime. But that wasn’t it. I walked to where Alex and I had walked yesterday morning.
    A stick lay on the path. I picked it up and poked at the shrubs as I walked. Pauline’s other flip-flop must be somewhere. If only I could find it. If only I could find it, what? I didn’t know. But I kept probing and pushing aside clumps of weeds and tangled bushes. Every small crackle of movement around me made my heart jitter. What if Otis McCandless jumped out in front of me, dripping wet, smiling that yellow mustard smile?
    Dead Man’s Island. There it was, the gray water surging and sucking around it. I walked quickly over the tire tracks left by Clem Butcher’s jeep.
    I passed the Batman’s house. The drapes were closed. Hannah’s bicycle lay by the door.
    A woman stood on the little beach, looking out at the river. I knew who she was right away. Otis’ mother.
    I took a step backward, but she heard and turned. Maybe she thought every sound around her was Otis, too. I saw her white face, eyes staring and red-rimmed. Her dark fuzzy hair stuck out, stiff as a cactus.
    “Brodie Lynch, isn’t it?”
    I nodded. She had a flashlight in her hand, one of those big commercial ones. Behind her the river roared and rushed, letting little white spits of foam jump up, swallowing them again. The Toadstool lay quiet and empty.
    “Are you all right?” she asked.
    “Yes.”
    She took a step toward me. “Thank you for trying to save my son.” She must have had makeup on, maybe hours ago, and it was smeared all over her face. She was about my height. “I’ve been searching for him all night.” She held up the flashlight. “The batteries gave out.”
    I could hardly breathe. If only I’d been able toslip away before she saw me.
    “I’ll find him,” she said. “I will.”
    I poked my head forward like some old turtle. “I thought I’d search today too,” I said. “My cousin Alex and I could….” I made an arc with the stick to show her how Alex and I would look everywhere.
    “They’re saying Otis made that girl fall.” It was hard to hear her over the thunder of the river, and I wanted to look away but I couldn’t. “They say he was trying to make out with her.”
    Make out? She meant he was coming on to her.
    Now she was talking again.
    “It’s not true. They’d met out on that rock before, and other places too. That girl liked my boy. She called him, plenty of times.”
    Stupid, stupid, to feel this ache of jealousy because Pauline Genero had called Otis, had met him, had liked him. She was dead. They were both dead. My dad says we are all made in the likeness of God, but I’m pretty sure I’m not.
    Mrs. McCandless was nodding, agreeing with herself. “She liked him.”
    I took another step back.
    “Well …” she said. “I guess I better go home. My daughter’s here. She said she’d look today and I could stay at the house. One of us has to be there for Otis, when he comes back.”
    She was scaring me to death. I was scared that she was right, and Otis would come home, and I was scared that he wouldn’t.
    She turned for one last look at the river and then shuffled past me. One of her tennis shoes had a little gold-colored charm hanging from the lace. A soccer ball. Otis played soccer. It made me want to cry.
    I touched her arm. “I hope he comes home,” I said, and I meant it. Right then, I really meant it.

CHAPTER 8
    W hen Mrs. McCandless had gone, I stood, trembling. “I didn’t mean to do it,” I whispered to myself, jamming my