Twice Bitten, Once Shy: Confessions of a Fake Psychic Detective #5

Chapter 21

A Case of the Cases

Of course Chad picked the rope that would break. What would he do instead? Not do that?

The rope, however unreliable it may be, breaks at the convenient distance of three inches away from Zandra's wet-wrinkled fingers. Given the gentle current and the water depth, Zandra has enough time to both complain to Chad and grab the half of the rope still tied to the Curd Queen.

The next hurdle is getting up the side of boat itself. The main level isn't far off the waterline, but there is a railing to overcome. Chad heaves back on the rope as Zandra finds something to grab against the side of the Curd Queen. The rope sheds fibers as it grinds against the top of the railing. Zandra worries the rope might break again and send her back into the Wisconsin River.

Fuck me, I'm not doing this again.

She's right about the rope breaking, but wrong about dropping back into the water. In a chance moment of extreme clarity, Chad reaches over the railing and grabs Zandra's life jacket. A couple tugs later, Zandra is back on board.

"Someone's coming," Chad says before Zandra has time to squeeze the water out of the purple gown.

Zandra doesn't hear anyone approaching, but she doesn't second guess Chad.

It's not like that was secret-agent grade swimming. I better not get an ear infection, Chad.

A door with "Storage" stenciled in black on it is a few soggy steps away. Whatever is stored inside can't be that valuable, because Chad opens the door and swings it open.

The wet footprints will make it obvious where we're hiding, but the door won't close if the rope is still tied down.

"Untie the rope," Zandra says as she shuffles inside, still wearing the lifejacket.

Chad slips the knot loose from the metal support beam and follows Zandra.

It's dark inside the storage room. Chad feels along the wall for a light switch.

"Shouldn't we keep that off?" Zandra says in a whisper.

Chad pauses and listens. Zandra listens, too.

I don't hear a damn thing but the water dripping.

"Wasn't someone coming?" Zandra says quietly.

"I thought so," Chad says at a normal volume.

"What?"

"I felt it. Like psychically," Chad says.

Come the fuck on.

"So no one is coming."

"I don't know. Probably? I mean, maybe?" Chad says. "I've been working on this, ya know?"

Work harder.

"Turn the light on, Chad," Zandra says.

A pair of lights hanging off the ceiling illuminates the storage room. Two rows of sturdy cases line either side, with just enough space to slip between them.

Zandra recognizes the cases from when they were loaded.

"Audio equipment," Zandra says.

"We found the roadie room. There must be a band coming," Chad says.

Ivy didn't mention one.

Zandra runs her hand along the outside of one of the cases. It must contain a speaker or an amplifier inside, because it's big enough for a body.

"Are you getting a psychic impression? Do you know the name of the band?" Chad says.

"All I get are psychic impressions, child," Zandra says. She gives the case a push. It doesn't budge.