The Lost Women of Lost Lake (15 page)

Helen looked at her with horrified eyes.

“Can't explain that one just yet. It may have nothing to do with her death.”

“Or it may have a lot to do with it,” said Jane.

“Got a gut feeling that they're not related,” said Kelli.

“Is your gut always right?”

A faint smile crossed her lips. “Sometimes my first reactions can be off base. Not always good to prejudge a situation, if you know what I mean. I guess we'll just have to wait and see.” With that, she walked back to her spot at the counter, tossed her leg over the stool and sat down to read the menu.

16

While his aunts sat on the couch, hugging each other and crying over Mrs. LaVasser's death, Jonah took the opportunity to sneak downstairs and slip out through the garage. If they wanted to yell at him about last night, they could do it later.

Running up to the parking lot at the lodge, Jonah found Kenny waiting for him on his Harley.

“Let's get out of here,” called Jonah.

Kenny hit the ignition on the bike, holding in the clutch and revving it. Looking back at Jonah, he called over the loud rumble, “Where to?”

“Where else?”

Taking the county road out of town, Kenny kept reaching up to wipe the tears out of his eyes. He drove fast, leaning into the curves. They eventually reached the dirt path that dead-ended at the hideout. Kenny ordered Jonah to dig the munchies out of the saddlebags while he opened the padlocked door. Once he'd come back out with a fist full of joints, a bottle of Jager, and some Red Bulls, they settled themselves against the side of the shack.

“I'm sorry about your grandmother,” said Jonah.

Kenny unscrewed the bottle cap and took a slug, then downed half a Red Bull. “Want some?”

“Nah. You okay?”

“Better now that I'm here,” he said.

Jonah lit up one of the joints. “You think it was that guy? The one who came to town to find your gran and my aunt?”

“Probably.”

“Me, too.”

Kenny pulled his legs up to his chest, scraped his wrist over his eyes. “My dad said something about suicide. I don't buy it.”

Kenny's dad was Lyndie's only son. He was also the president of one of the two banks in town.

“Does he know anything about her past?” asked Jonah.

“Hell no.”

When Kenny's tears turned to sobs, Jonah looked away, trying to give his friend some space. He figured Kenny had to be embarrassed to come apart like that. He'd always been close to his grandmother—when he wasn't bitching about her, which was the majority of the time. Still.

“We gotta find that creep,” said Kenny, taking another slug of the Jager.

“At the very least, we gotta ask him some questions. It had to be him. Who else had it in for your gran?”

Kenny finished the Red Bull and opened another. Heaving himself up, he held the Jager in one hand and the Red Bull in the other, kicking at weeds as he paced in front of the shack.

“I'm worried about Aunt Tessa,” continued Jonah. “If that guy came after your grandmother, maybe she's next.”

“Could be.”

“What do we do?”

Kenny kept kicking at the weeds, obviously mulling it over. “When we're done here, we split up. You take the north end of town, I take the south. Whoever spots him first calls the other. We jump him together. Cut him off so he can't get away.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“We could use a gun,” said Kenny, emptying another Red Bull and tossing the empty can over his shoulder.

“They're expensive.”

Pulling a wallet out of his back pocket, he tossed it to Jonah.

“Where'd you get all this?” asked Jonah, opening the back flap and finding four one hundred dollar bills.

“Odd jobs.”

“Illegal?”

“Borderline. But lucrative. Hey,” said Kenny, taking a folded envelope out of his cargo shorts. “Forgot about this. It came in the morning mail.”

“What is it?”

“From the United States Army. Man, I can't wait to get out of this backwater.” He downed another couple of slugs of Jager.

At this rate, Jonah figured Kenny would be both wired and smashed in record time. “What's it say? Open it.”

“You open it,” he said, half grinning. He dropped it in Jonah's lap. “Probably tells me when and where I'm supposed to show up for basic.”

Ripping open the top, Jonah unfolded the letter and read silently.

“Just give me the date,” said Kenny.

“I, ah … I think you better look at this yourself.”

Kenny grabbed the letter out of Jonah's hand. He gave it a cursory read. “What the—” he said, reading through it again, this time with more concentration. “This is bullshit. Did you see what they said?”

Jonah took a toke, looked away.

“I don't fit within ‘the U.S. Army's weight parameters.' What the hell does that mean?”

If Kenny couldn't figure it out, Jonah sure could. The army had just rejected Kenny because he was too fat. “They want you to begin a fitness program.”

“Fitness? I coulda broke that pip-squeak army doc in half with one hand tied behind my back.” He dropped the bottle and ripped up the paper, tossing it in the grass. “All I've ever wanted to do was serve my country in the fucking military.”

“Take a toke,” said Jonah, holding out his joint. “Chill out. This isn't the end of the world.”

“It's the end of
my
world.” Kenny slammed his foot into the hideout wall.

“You're going to break the boards. I don't feel like spending the afternoon repairing them.” Maybe he shouldn't have said that, although now that he had, something else came to mind. “Did you make me a key for that new padlock?”

“You want a key?”

“Yeah. The stuff's half mine.”

Leaning over and whispering into Jonah's ear, Kenny said, “You think so?”

“Cut it out,” said Jonah, pushing him away. “I'm sorry about the army thing, okay? Jesus.”

That was all it took. Kenny reared back and kicked him, and kept kicking him—in the side, in the back, in the stomach, in the head.

Jonah rolled into a ball. “Stop it,” he cried. “You're crazy.”

“Crazy, huh? I'll show you crazy.” Kenny kicked him a bunch more times. Punching the wall with his fist, he screamed, “Shit shit shit,” shaking his fingers in pain.

Jonah struggled to his feet. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You're a pansy. The world is full of pansies just like you. I don't know why I even bother.”

“Calm down.”

“You're a weak-ass pussy. A douche. I don't need losers like you in my life.”

“What did I do?”

“You
exist,
” screamed Kenny, stomping over to his bike.

Jonah stood and watched him drive off in a cloud of dust and gravel. Only after he was out of sight and the sound of the motor had grown faint did Jonah collapse to the ground and wonder what the hell had just happened.

17

A floppy sun hat drooped over Tessa's eyes as she reclined on a chaise lounge on the deck overlooking the lake, a book of James Fenton's early poetry open on her lap. She found it difficult to concentrate, which meant that prose was out of the question, as was any thought of writing. She was too jittery. Her feelings were a confusing jumble of sadness, anger, fear for her safety, and foreboding. Feigenbaumer had played his first card. Lyndie was dead.

The cordless phone on the table next to her gave a sudden shrill ring. She glanced at the caller ID. In the direct sunlight, it was almost impossible to read.

Clicking it on, she said, “Hello?”

“Hello, Sabra,” came a male voice.

Her entire body jerked to attention.

“I know it's you because Judy told me.”

She cut the line and tossed the phone on the table as if it were a hot coal. He'd just told her everything she wanted to know. Not only had he killed Lyndie, but she was next.

The phone rang again. This time it didn't sound so much shrill as taunting.
Pick me up,
it said—
if you've got the guts.
She stared at it for a few seconds, trying to assemble her thoughts. One more ring and she clicked it on, held it to her ear.

“That's better. You can't run. I assume you know that. I've spent a great part of my life looking for you and Judy. Don't you want to know who I am?”

“Who?” she whispered.

“Take a guess.”

“His son?”

“His only son.”

Tessa closed her eyes.

“Wanted to hear your voice. And tell you I was coming.”

“A life for a life.”

“For someone like you, that would be too easy.”

Tessa found his mild, almost soothing tone far more menacing than if he'd been screaming at her.

“You come forward and admit to the police what you did, or I handle it my way.”

“How did you find us?”

“Yeah, I suppose you would be interested in that. I was just a little kid when you murdered my dad, so you had a big head start. Not exactly fair. It all came down to Judy. She subscribed to the daily paper in Newfield, South Dakota.
The Newfield Herald
. When she read that her sister was dying of cancer, she wrote to her. There were a couple of phone calls. I've had people watching your two families for years hoping to get a lead on where you'd gone.”

“Everyone in my family is dead.”

“I know. Your last remaining relative, your mother, died in ninety-eight. I went all the way to Nebraska, to the funeral in McCook hoping that you'd turn up. You did, didn't you.”

“Why would you think that?”

“I saw you, I know I did—standing at the edge of the graveyard. You were placing flowers on another grave, but you kept looking over at those of us who were there for your mom. When I started for you, you ran to your car and took off.”

“Look, I can give you money. I'm not rich, but—”

“You think I want
money
?”

“I'll give you anything I have.”

“I want you behind bars, Sabra. I want you to suffer the way you made me suffer. I need you to grieve for the life you had before it was ripped away. I want you to miss someone so bad that it claws your heart to shreds. I want you to
think
long and hard about what you did. My dad was a decent man. A loving husband and father. An honorable cop.”

“There's more to the story.”

He gave a bitter laugh. “I've heard enough lies from people like you. Hell, I'm giving you more than you gave my dad—a chance to control how and when it goes down. I'll be in touch.”

*   *   *

Emily closed the front door of the small, wood-frame fisherman's cabin, making sure that the rusted latch locked securely. She carried a backpack and a caddy of cleaning supplies over to the edge of the deck, where she set everything down to readjust the strap at the back of her halter dress.

Kenny had called around one and offered to take her over to the resort and then pick her up when she was done. She was a little surprised that he would offer today of all days. By sunup, everyone in Lost Lake knew that his grandmother was dead. She assumed he would be involved with family stuff most of the day. When he arrived at her house, he was in a foul mood, his breath reeking of alcohol. He shut down every attempt she made at sympathy.

Brushing a ladybug off the front of her dress, she crossed from the edge of the cabin steps to a dirt path that would take her back to the cleaning shed. As she made it to the group of cabins closest to the water, she spied a man sitting on a log. He was closing his cell phone and putting it away in the pocket of a blue jacket. She'd seen him a couple of times before, but had never said anything to him. He looked rough and unfriendly.

“Hey,” he called, standing and motioning her over.

“Me?”

“You been working here long?”

“No.”

“What are there? Ten, twelve cabins at this resort?”

“Fourteen. Two are set back in the woods, away from the lake.”

“Fourteen,” he repeated. His eyes slowly shifted from her to a rowboat, where a fisherman was tying a rope to a fixed metal pole at the end of the dock. “Just a word to the wise. You might want to find another job.”

“I can take care of myself,” she said, continuing on to the shed.

Kenny roared down into the gravel parking lot on his motorcycle and stopped just south of the main beach.

“You take care,” called the stranger. “Hear me?”

All she wanted to do was get away from him.

“What'd that guy say to you?” said Kenny, his eyes trained on the stranger.

“I don't like him. I think he's been watching me.”

Kenny's eyes narrowed. “I'll take care of it. Hop on.”

“Let me change back into my jeans first.”

He grabbed her wrist before she could walk away. “You seen Jonah since he's been back?”

“We talked for a while last night.”

“Just talked? You told me you two were over.”

“That was when I thought he was gone for good.”

“You still got a thing for him then?”

He held her hand so tightly that it frightened her. “That hurts, Kenny.”

“Kenneth,” he corrected her.

“Come on, let go.”

“He's a wimp.”

“I'm not having this conversation.”

“He ain't good enough for you. You deserve better.”

“I think that's my decision to make, not yours.”

“I thought I meant something to you.”

She was startled by the hurt in his face. “You were the one who said it didn't mean anything. Just fun and games.” She'd needed someone after Jonah had left. She told herself it wasn't a mistake. She'd been so alone. “We're friends. I care about you. But you can't make our relationship something it isn't.”