The Secrets of Lake Road (7 page)

She took the seat next to Gram and scanned the crowd, concerned she might see Billy’s sister, Dee Dee. About thirty people gathered. She recognized each and every one of their faces, locals and seasonal cabin owners. Much to her relief, Billy’s sister wasn’t among them.

Heil took his position at the front of the room. He held up his hand and, like obedient children, they quieted in their seats and waited for the next command.

“We all know why we’re here. Tragedy, I tell you. And no one is more upset about this than I am.”

The people nodded and murmured in agreement.

Heil pulled his pants up high to cover his large belly. He rolled onto the balls of his feet in a power bounce. “But we must make a living in spite of what has happened here.”

“Are you planning on opening the Pavilion and beach tomorrow?” one of the cabin owners asked.

“Of course he is.” Jonathan spoke for Heil. “I’ve got renters who expect the full vacation experience on the lake, and that includes the beach and swimming. Hell, that’s all they’re here for.”

“He’s right,” someone said from the back of the room.

The crowd started talking at once. Jo tried to follow the outbursts, catching bits and pieces. “Besides, it’s gruesome, all this waiting around, watching them drag the bottom looking for that little girl’s body.”

“What’s taking so long?”

“Why can’t they find her?”

“And those poor parents, having to wait.”

“It’s not our fault. Why should we be punished?”

“We’re paying to swim and fish.”

“That mother should’ve kept a better watch on her kid.”

“You can’t blame the mother.”

“Why not? Where was she?”

“It was an accident.”

“Tragedy.”

“We’re losing money.”

“What about the bones?”

“Yeah, I heard they found some bones.”

“All right,” Heil said. “Everyone, calm down.”

Sheriff Borg stood and put on his sheriff’s hat. He rapped his knuckles twice on the table. The action caused the mob to settle down.

“Law enforcement is looking into the bones.” Heil shot the sheriff a look, and the sheriff nodded. “But that’s not our immediate concern. What we need to focus on is the business at hand.” He continued. “And that’s finding that little girl and getting the beach and lake reopened. What we need is to speak to the recovery team.”

“That’s right,” a woman from the corner bar piped in.

Heil turned to Stimpy. “Get out there and bring one of them fellows in. I have an idea.”

Excitement buzzed around the room. Everyone wanted to move forward, for summer vacations to continue as planned as if nothing bad had happened. The community at the lake, the locals and regular summer vacationers, had been through this kind of thing before. Tragic, yes, but no one sitting in Eddie’s bar ever thought it could happen to them, to their family, to their child. You never thought it could happen to you.

Gram sat perfectly still. Jo’s own spine was rigid, although her foot wagged at a ridiculous pace.

One of the men from underwater recovery climbed the stairs and entered the bar. He was average height with dark brown hair and eyes. He wore a black T-shirt and jeans. A yellow safety vest was strapped to his chest. He carried a matching yellow hardhat. He scanned the crowd of people, and by the time he finished, he was scowling.

Heil slapped his hand on the man’s shoulder and turned to his co-conspirators to quiet them down. All eyes focused on the two men.

“We have no doubt you’re doing everything you can,” Heil explained, sounding much like a politician. “But it’s over twenty-four hours that we’ve had the lake and beach closed. People pay for the lake experience. They expect to take their boats on the water and fish. Families expect their kids to swim.”

“I understand,” the man said. “We’re working as fast as we can.” He then added, “For the little girl and her parents.”

“Yes, for the girl and her parents,” Heil said. “But I have an idea that may help both the lake community and the family to move things along.”

“I’m listening,” the man said.

“Now, keep an open mind. She’s dead. We all know she’s dead. No one can survive underwater for an entire day and night.” Heil looked around for consent. “So what I’m proposing is a sure way to recover the girl. Although it may seem gruesome, I assure you it’s not. Not really. It’s practical. It’s using our very own resources, and it won’t cost the taxpayers or community any money.” He paused, a pleased expression on his face. “It’s free.”

“What is it?” someone asked from the crowd.

Another shouted, “I know what you’re suggesting.”

A woman said, “I don’t understand. What is he talking about?”

“Now, calm down.” Heil beckoned the group. “We can find that little girl by ourselves and quickly. We’ve done it before.”

The crowd collectively gasped, but nodded, understanding what Heil was suggesting. “It’s like when that Hawke boy drowned. What was his name?”

“Billy,” someone said. “Yeah, that’s right. Billy.”

Jo opened her mouth and closed it again when Gram squeezed her thigh.

“There are reasons we use the technology we have,” the man from underwater recovery said, his face now etched in a permanent frown. “We don’t want to jeopardize any possible forensic evidence.” He looked to the sheriff, and once again the sheriff nodded.

He continued. “We have the side scanner. If you just give us a few more hours, my guess is that we should be able to find her by tomorrow afternoon at the latest.”

The crowd began to rumble their dissent.

“That’s another day the beach stays closed.”

“What about the fishing boats?”

“It’s costing us money.”

“Find her now by any means possible.”

“It’s best for everyone.”

Gram’s hands were curled into two tight balls, her knuckles white. She turned to Jo. “Barbarians. Every last one of them.”

Heil held up his hands in an attempt to quiet the crowd yet again. Sara’s mother appeared in the doorway, and a hushed silence spread throughout the room. Her face was drawn and hollow. She looked much older than she was. The man from underwater recovery rushed to her side.

“I want you to find my baby girl,” she said to him. “I want you to get her out of that damn lake.”

“We will, ma’am.” He took her arm, and before she could address the crowd, if she even wanted to address the crowd, he ushered her out the door and down the stairs to avoid a scene. The sheriff followed them out.

The mob stayed seated with their eyes cast down, unwilling to look at one another. Several seconds of an uncomfortable silence ensued until one of the women, Mrs. Hofsteader, stood to leave. She and her husband, Cal Hofsteader, owned one of the cabins on the lake directly across from the Pavilion. She tapped her husband’s shoulder, and he followed her out the door. Other women began to gather themselves, collect their purses, accepting it would be another day of waiting. Most of the men followed, but Stimpy and a few other fishermen huddled in the corner of the bar.

Jo turned to Gram and motioned in the direction of Stimpy and the fishermen. “What do you think they’re up to?”

Gram stared at the men. Their heads were bent together, and they were whispering. “I think they’re going to take matters into their own hands,” she said.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Caroline was sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of milk and cookies when Gram stomped through the door. Caroline’s mother marched in behind her. Both were in a huff over something, and Caroline stared at them, making a quick mental list of her actions in the last few hours, trying to determine if she was to blame for their foul moods.

Looking back and forth between Gram and her mother, and not coming up with anything she might have done to make them mad, she hoped they weren’t fighting with each other. She had been aware of a rift between them ever since she was little. She couldn’t remember a time when it wasn’t there, this thing she couldn’t name. She couldn’t always see it in their eyes or hear it in their words, but she felt it, an invisible storm rumbling in the air around them.

“So now what?” her mother asked.

“Now nothing,” Gram said. “We wait like the rest of them.”

Her mother crossed her arms. Gram poured a glass of lake water from the jug in the refrigerator. Her hands shook when she raised the cup to her lips.

“What’s going on?” Caroline asked, startling both women. It was as though they hadn’t seen her sitting there.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” Gram said, and shot Jo a look.

“Is it about Sara? Did they find her?” Caroline had spent the day with Megan, sitting on the public docks and watching underwater recovery, waiting. Initially, she had gone to the Pavilion but the sign tacked to the doors read
CLOSED
.

Gram sat next to her and patted her arm. “Not yet, but they’ll find her soon.”

Johnny waltzed into the kitchen, the screen door banging behind him. He smelled of cigarette smoke and something else, something funky Caroline associated with a boy smell, wet and doglike. Gram must’ve smelled it too, and she crinkled her nose at him.

“I’m going to change,” Gram said, and stood, leaving them in the kitchen.

“You need a shower,” her mother said to Johnny.

He smelled underneath his arm and shrugged but headed to the bathroom anyway. He pushed the back of Caroline’s head as he passed by, making her spill milk down the front of her T-shirt.

“Jerk,” she said, grabbing a napkin and catching the milk on her chin.

“Would you two knock it off?” her mother said.

“I didn’t do anything.” Caroline hated the whininess in her tone. “He started it.”

“Baby,” Johnny called.

“Am not!” she yelled back at him.

“Enough, Caroline.”

“Why don’t you ever yell at him? Why is it always my fault?”

Her mother sighed and covered her face. “It’s not always your fault, okay? And you’re right.” She dropped her hands and smiled. “Your brother can be a real jerk sometimes.” She brushed the hair from Caroline’s face.

Caroline’s chest opened as she looked up at her. Her mother was so beautiful when she smiled. She wanted to tell her, but she was too afraid she would take it the wrong way. Everything she said, good or bad, her mother misunderstood.

“What?” her mother asked, and furrowed her brow. “You’re looking at me funny.”

Caroline opened her mouth to talk, not knowing what words would come out. There was so much she wanted to say now that she had her mother’s attention. She was scared and feeling so alone. “I should’ve watched her,” she said about Sara. “She was on the pier, and I knew her mother wasn’t paying attention.” She looked down at her hands and waited for her mother’s reaction.

Without saying anything, her mother sat next to her and wrapped her arms around her. It was a rare embrace, and Caroline clung to her, elated to gain her mother’s affection even though the reason for it made her feel terrible. “I shouldn’t have left her alone.”

Her mother pulled back and took Caroline’s face in her hands. “She wasn’t your responsibility.”

She nodded. “I know,” she said, but still, it felt that way.

Gram walked into the kitchen, now wearing polyester pants and matching cotton shirt. She yanked open the refrigerator door, not realizing she had interrupted a rare mother-daughter moment. “Who wants dinner?” she asked.

“I have an errand,” her mother said, and stood. She touched Caroline’s shoulder, pausing to give it a squeeze before she fled for the door.

*   *   *

Caroline lay on her bed and listened. The cabin was quiet except for the murmur of the small TV coming from Gram’s bedroom. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but it was too early for bed. And it was too late to be out with friends. It was the time in-between when she was either too old for certain things or too young for others, a time when there was nothing for a girl her age to do. She wondered what was happening down at the lake, if people had gathered or if everyone had stayed home. Where was her mother?

She sat up and swung her legs to the floor. She looked out into the night. Leaves rustled. Willow’s branches swayed in the breeze. Her mother said it wasn’t her fault, what had happened to Sara. Maybe she was right. But she couldn’t just sit here feeling they way she did. She had to do something. At the very least, she wanted to know what was happening down at the lake. She was still wearing her T-shirt and shorts, so why not go and find out? Carefully, she lifted the screen out of the window and slipped through.

She had figured out how to crawl out the window undetected when she was ten years old. She’d had a bad dream about a wolf scratching at her bedroom door and trying to get inside to bite her throat. She had been so scared, she had wanted to flee, to climb in Willow’s branches, the one place a wolf couldn’t reach her, and hide. She had been surprised at how easily the screen had lifted away, but in truth, the cabin was old and in need of repairs.

Ever since the night of the wolf dream, when she wanted to escape, she’d crawl out the window and up the willow tree. No one ever thought to look for her there, and she felt safe. Once, she had spied her brother making out with a girl on the corner of the dirt road. She had stayed hidden in the tree and watched her brother slide his hands underneath the girl’s top, the girl batting his hands away, but eventually giving in. She felt guilty watching her brother do these things, and she felt dirty, too, but she couldn’t stop herself from staring. No way she’d ever let a boy touch her in that way.

Tonight, instead of curling up in one of Willow’s branches, she jogged down the dirt road toward the lake, keeping to the edges near the trees. She felt a strong pull toward the water, and it was more than curiosity about the progress of the search. She knew she had to be at the lake, to see whatever there was to see.

Rather than take the Lake Road and risk running into anyone, she turned right, sneaking between two cabins that led to a small trail through the woods. Voices echoed from the ballpark, possibly Johnny and his friends drinking in the dugout far away from the recovery team and law enforcement.