The Secrets of Lake Road (32 page)

Adam looked as though he had been crying. The twins must’ve been really giving it to him. She bent over, putting her hands on her knees. She thought she might be sick. The boys stared at her, sensing whatever was wrong was important.

“Cougar,” she said. “He found Sara’s…” She couldn’t finish. She couldn’t say the word
body
.

They didn’t ask what she meant. They didn’t have to. Every kid knew Sara’s name. Every kid knew she hadn’t been found. They may have been pretending she hadn’t drowned the last few days, but they didn’t forget even if their parents had moved on. Kids wouldn’t forget about another kid dying.

“Are you sure? Where?” Ned asked.

Caroline pointed downstream. “It’s her,” she said, swallowing the warm saliva in the back of her throat.

“How did she get all the way down here?” Ted asked. “It doesn’t seem possible.”

“It’s totally possible,” Adam said, his wet eyes darting from Caroline to the twins. “The water current carries a lot of cool stuff here.” He scrunched up his face. “You know what I mean.” He continued, “Once, I found an old license plate and a Coke bottle. And don’t forget about the snappers. They love the mud. Maybe they drag stuff here and, you know, eat it. I know they like to burrow in mud so only their eyes and nostrils stick out. Then they wiggle their tongues like tiny worms to attract small fish. When the fish gets close”—he smacked his hands together—“they grab it and chomp it to pieces.”

“I thought they only ate dead stuff,” Ted said.

“No. They eat small fish and plants, too. But I think they prefer the dead stuff.…” Adam’s voice trailed off.

Maybe they realized the impact of what Adam was saying because after this, they were quiet. Even Cougar didn’t make a sound. In the silence Adam and the twins stared at one another, each muttering to the other, “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” All Caroline heard was the sound of her own breathing.

Adam put his finger to his lips.

She strained to listen.

“There it is again,” Adam said.

“I don’t hear anything,” she said.

Adam looked at her. “It’s a full moon,” he said, and pointed to the sky, his hand shaking. “You can hear the horse during a full moon.”

“I bet it’s because you found Sara,” Ted said to her. “I mean, she drowned the same day Adam found that bit.”

“It was probably the wind,” Ned said.

“You didn’t hear anything?” Adam asked her.

“No,” Caroline said. “I didn’t.” She knew Adam was disappointed in her. But what could she say? Too much had happened. She no longer believed in the things she once had at the start of summer, the kinds of things that only kids believed in like lake legends. She wasn’t the same girl who had once accepted the world as it was without question. For her the world had forever changed.

Megan and Jeff came crashing through the brush. “What?” Megan asked, and looked at them. “What’s going on?” It was obvious Megan and Jeff didn’t hear anything either.

“Cougar found Sara,” Caroline said, because finding the little girl was the most important thing. “I know where she is.”

“You do?” Megan asked. “Where?”

“Maybe it’s not even her,” Ned said. “We’re all a little spooked right now.”

Caroline shook her head. “It’s her.” There was no mistake. The image of Sara’s body flashed in her mind’s eye, the face of an angel resting peacefully on a tattered body.

“Let’s make sure,” Ted said to the others. “Adam, you stay here with Cougar. We don’t want that dog to get a hold of her. If it’s really her,” he added.

“Cougar wouldn’t do that,” Caroline said at the same time the dog lowered his head as though he were ashamed. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” she said to Cougar.

“I’m coming with you, guys,” Adam said.

“No.” Caroline reached for Adam’s hand. “Stay here with me. You don’t want to see.” She didn’t want to treat Adam like a baby, but she knew it wasn’t something he should look at. He was too young. It was bad enough the others were going to look.

No kid, no matter how old, should ever have to see another kid’s dead body.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Kevin stood on the balcony of the Pavilion, which overlooked the lake. It was a clear night. The sky was littered with stars, and the moonlight bounced off the still water. The air was warm, but not uncomfortably so. He kept his back to the bar and the crowd inside. The live band belted out a cover song, the electric guitar singing louder than the girl’s voice into the mic. He had stepped outside in need of fresh air, which was ironic, since the first thing he did was light a cigarette.

He took a deep drag, welcoming the smoke into his lungs. He had waited on the docks for Patricia to leave
Hawkes’
cabin for as long as he could without drawing attention to himself, but she never came out. He wasn’t sure why he had bothered, but something about her troubled him, and it had nothing to do with her little girl drowning. He had spent much of the afternoon and evening alone, stopping briefly at
The Pop-Inn,
but no one was there.

Eventually he wandered into the bar and spent the last several hours hanging out with Eddie and Sheila. The two were still hopelessly in love. Or perhaps he was thinking like the silly romantic Jo had always accused him of being.

The smoke snaked from his mouth in slow, deliberate swirls. His stomach churned from too much beer and lack of food. He hadn’t eaten in hours. His temple throbbed. He was dehydrated. He licked his dry cracked lip.

But no matter how bad his stomach clenched in need of food or how bad his body needed water, his feet were rooted to the spot. He couldn’t tear his eyes off the two boys in the middle of the lake on the floating pier. It was as though he were staring into the past, looking out at two ghosts.

He recognized Johnny and Chris and realized just how distinguishable he and Billy must have looked under the same moon. His mind had gone back to that night so many times before, but now, looking in from the outside, it was a miracle no one had witnessed what he had done.

*   *   *

Billy had climbed the ladder right after Jo had swum to shore. They stood and watched her run across the beach, staggering and falling in her attempt to flee. She grabbed her clothes and disappeared behind the Pavilion. She had listened to Kevin when he had told her to run home and tell no one. She was terrified, thinking she had pushed Billy into the lake and that he had drowned.

But Billy was back on the pier, cradling his right forearm where he had hurt it. The water dripped from his shorts, making tiny splattering sounds on the wood. He tossed his head to the side to get the wet hair out of his face and smiled a cock-sure smile. He had intended to scare them. To him, it was a game.

But it wasn’t a game to Kevin. Billy had played him for a fool one too many times. And now Billy had done the same to Jo. He had frightened her to death. And Kevin couldn’t take it any longer. He had had enough. He’d show Billy once and for all he shouldn’t mess with him, he didn’t deserve Jo.

He took a deep, sobering breath. His mouth tasted like metal. He clenched and unclenched his hands. He felt as though he were someone else, that someone full of rage and frustration had invaded his body.

Slowly, he turned toward Billy.

“She’ll never choose you over me,” Billy said so confidently and smugly.

Something much more than rage shot through Kevin: a thick, hot fury. Before he could stop himself, he struck Billy hard in the chest, much harder than he thought possible, surprising Billy and knocking the wind out of him, sending him back over the edge of the pier. There was a loud crack, but this time it wasn’t Billy’s arm striking the pier; it was his head hitting one of the wood planks before his body slapped the water with a
thwump
.

Kevin’s blood rushed in his ears. Sweat seeped from his pores and adrenalin pulsed through his veins. He got him good this time. He did. He wouldn’t be pushed around anymore. He wouldn’t. But my God, what was he thinking?

Billy was going to kill him when he climbed back onto the pier.

Kevin had to pull himself together. His breath was ragged. He lifted his chin and hiked his shoulders back, prepared to fight again. He stood with his fists up, waiting for Billy to surface. He wasn’t sure how long he was standing that way, waiting—long enough for his arms to get tired.

“Come on,” he said. “You’re not fooling me. Not this time.”

He strained to look over the edge where Billy had gone into the water, not wanting to get too close in case he was waiting to pull him into the lake. There was no way he could win a fight with him in the water. Billy was too strong a swimmer. But from where he stood, Kevin could see the waves lapping in slow rhythm against the side of the pier, the water showing little to no disturbance in its cadence, no sign of someone swimming, splashing.

“Where are you?” he asked.

After several long minutes, how many minutes he had no way of knowing, Billy still hadn’t shown himself. The lake remained calm, silent.

“Billy,” Kevin said, and looked over the edge again.

Nothing.

“Billy,” he called, panic settling in. He raced around the pier, searching the water, much like Jo had done. “Where are you?” he asked, but even as the words left his lips, he understood what had happened. The air had rushed from Billy’s lungs. Kevin had knocked the wind out of him. Billy had hit his head before falling into the water. He wasn’t coming back up.

Ever.

Kevin dropped to his knees, his head in his hands. His best friend’s body sunk to the darkness below, joining whatever else was dead at the bottom of the lake.

And this time, this time it was all Kevin’s fault.

*   *   *

Kevin’s body shook from the memory. His arms hung at his sides, limp and weak, remembering the physical exertion, the emotional trauma of the night he had gotten rid of Billy forever.

From the balcony he watched Johnny dive into the lake after Chris, both boys swimming for shore.
Lucky for them,
Kevin thought, and crushed the cigarette butt with his foot. He wiped his cheek. His hand came away wet. He hadn’t realized he had been crying.

He turned to head into the bar for another drink but stopped when he saw a lone figure stumbling up the docks toward the parking lot. Something about the person’s movements was familiar. When the figure stepped under one of the tent’s spotlights, he recognized the hollow of her cheeks, the swell of her breasts and hips. He knew something was wrong.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

The light under the tent temporarily blinded Jo. She stopped walking, waiting for the spots to clear. Her face was still sore where Dee Dee had smacked her not once, but twice. She touched her cheek tenderly. After Patricia had explained everything she had witnessed the night Billy had drowned, Dee Dee had tossed Jo a frozen bag of peas as a kind of peace offering for slugging her. They talked for the next several hours, a game of Remember When, with all their memories centered on Billy.

Jo wouldn’t go as far as to say she and Dee Dee were friends. She wasn’t sure they would ever define their relationship in those terms, but they had reached an understanding, one of tolerance for each other for Johnny’s sake. It was a start. Or maybe it was the end of something. Dee Dee was unpredictable. But whatever happened from this night on, Jo no longer felt threatened by her.

Once her vision had cleared, she kept to the perimeter of the parking lot near the edge of the woods and away from the festival. Most of the stands and tables under the tents were empty, waiting for the merchandise to be displayed in the morning. The last of the temporary lights turned off as the few remaining workers headed home for the night.

She was closing in on the path that would lead to the ballpark and colony when Kevin stepped out from a shadow and blocked her way. She stiffened at the sight of him, unprepared to confront him so soon after learning what he had done. His hair was sticking up as though he had been running his fingers through it for hours. His eyes were wet and glassy. He smelled as though he had been drinking.

“What happened?” he asked, and motioned toward her cheek.

She turned her head away.

“What’s wrong?” He reached for her.

“Don’t touch me.” She glanced over his shoulder at the woods, looking for a way to escape, spying the entrance to the path.

“What did I do?” he asked.

She stared at him in disbelief. “What did you do?” Something inside of her came undone and thrashed in the air around them. “You let me think I was responsible for Billy drowning because I pushed him into the lake. But all this time, it wasn’t me.” She shook her head. “It was you.”

“What are you talking about? You’re not making any sense.”

Her words stumbled out in a rush. “You were the last one with him. Not me.
You
pushed him into the lake. He hit his head when
you
pushed him.”

“No,” he said, and grabbed her arms. “You’re wrong.”

She struggled to pull herself free. “Patricia saw you. She saw the whole thing that night. He was alive after I left, and she can prove it.”

He gripped her biceps tight and looked as though he was trying to work out what she was telling him.

“She saw
you
push him. Not me.” She yanked her arms free. “She saw you push him.” She cried. “And what about his arm, Kev? What did you do to his arm?”

“I think he hurt it when we were fighting on the pier,” he said.

But she wasn’t looking for an answer. All she wanted was to get as far away from him as she could. She couldn’t stand to be near him for one second more. All these years he let her believe she was the one to blame for Billy’s death. But it was him. It was his fault.

She took off running. She entered the woods a few feet from the path, tripping through the bush until she found the narrow trail.

He wasn’t far behind. His feet stomped the ground, heavy and uncertain. She could outrun him if he were drunk, and she lengthened her stride, losing her flip-flops along the way. They were too hard to run in anyway.