The Reservoir by Rosemarie Naramore Page B

help him back into the boat.  But she was certain she had grabbed his upper arm, not his wrist.
    She held her hand above the imprint, hovering tentatively, afraid to touch it.  Finally, she laid it against the imprint, aligning finger with finger, palm to palm.  It didn’t match.
    It didn’t match .

Chapter Seven
               
    “How’s Daniel?” Holly asked Zack.  She was at the kitchen sink, washing their dinner plates.  The group had been so wound up over the day’s events, they had nearly forgotten that they hadn’t eaten since lunch time, with the exception of Niqui, who had made a sandwich earlier. 
    “Daniel’s still pretty uptight, but he’s no longer carrying on about being crazy.  Of course, now he thinks the rest of us are crazy for trying to apply a logical explanation to an illogical scenario.”
    “You mean a potentially supernatural scenario.”
    “Yeah, I guess that’s how he sees it.”
    Holly winced.  “Poor guy.  We’re deluded because we don’t believe him.  Zack, that doesn’t sound good—him thinking we’re nuts now.  I remember reading somewhere that people who are crazy often don’t have a clue they’re crazy.”  Holly paused for several seconds.  “Of course, a couple hours ago, Daniel was convinced he was crazy.”  She shook her head to clear it.  Things were getting confusing.  “But, there is the matter of those handprints,” she remembered aloud.  “How do we dispute the physical evidence?  I can understand Daniel being frustrated with us, considering the writing’s on the wall, er, the handprints are on the ankle and wrist.”
    Zack conceded the point of a nod, and sighed heavily.  He was silent for a moment, processing.  “It’s probably better when a crazy person doesn’t know they’re crazy, if you really think about it.”
    Holly shuddered, as if trying to shed the dark cloud of worry that had descended over the group.  “Let’s not—think about it, that is.  Did you give Daniel some Tylenol tablets?  It might help him sleep.”
    “He wasn’t eager to take them, but finally swallowed them to get me off his back.  Frankly, I took a couple too.  I’m doubtful any of us are going to do much sleeping tonight.”
    Holly glanced out the kitchen window.  Her eyes panned the reservoir.  She spied the moon twinkling on the now smooth-as-glass surface.  “Wind has died down,” she commented, and then her eyes lighted on the dock.  She could just make out the wooden form, with the boat tied beside it.  For a fleeting second, she worried about having left the boat out there without having buttoned up the canvas covers, but thankfully, it didn’t look like rain was coming.  Earlier, she had believed a storm might be brewing.
    She startled when Zack wrapped an arm around her waist.
    “Oh, sorry,” he murmured.  “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
    She turned her head toward him, noting he had bent toward her and brought his face close to hers.  Their eyes linked and a silent communication passed between them.  She nearly leaned in and kissed him, but common sense prevailed.  If their friends saw them kissing, it would only add another unsettling element to the events of the day.
    Holly feared Kendall might also have a bit of a crush on Zack.  She had never said so, but sometimes when Kendall liked a guy, she showed it by giving him a hard time.  Kendall was forever razzing Zack, so it was likely she had feelings for him.
    Sometimes, sorting out who liked whom among friends could be so complicated.  It was the primary reason Holly had a strict policy of never dating within her group of close friends.  A breakup could potentially signal the end of more than a romance—it could mark the end of a friendship if there were residual hard feelings.  But…
    She liked Zack and had for a long time.  Maybe, just maybe, their solid friendship could withstand a stab at something more even if something were to go wrong.
    Holly