Page 60 of The Woman By the Lake

And he wanted her comfortable in her surroundings, but he still hoped that shit never fully took.

“Good for you, honey,” Riggs murmured while smiling at her.

She smiled back, again it was untroubled and cheery, and again he was transfixed by it.

She put her brat down to fork into her macaroni salad when he heard her phone vibrate.

She pulled it out, looked at it, frowned, then shoved it back while he could still hear it vibrating, meaning it wasn’t a text, but a call.

“You can deal with it, whatever it is. We don’t stand on ceremony at the Riggs house,” he told her.

“It’s a friend from home. I’ll call her tomorrow.”

Her phone went again, and the blithe look went out of her face as a worried one set in.

“Take it, Nadia,” he urged gently.

“I’m so sorry,” she muttered, slid off her seat and pulled her phone out.

She moved down into the living room as she took the call.

“Hey, Maribeth. I’m at my neighbor’s for dinner so I’ll have to—” She stopped, bent her head, listened, then said, “Listen, I know. I found out?—”

She was interrupted again.

She listened some more, then said, “Maribeth, slow down and let me say something.” A pause and then, “I know. Sure, I just found out, but?—”

Another interruption and then she looked their way, gave the one-minute finger and walked out the front door.

Riggs and his son exchanged a glance, then Riggs took another bite, chewed it, swallowed it, decided that was enough time to give her, so he put down his own brat and followed her.

He was through the storm door, eyes on her standing on his front deck, when she turned and slammed right into him.

“Gah! Sorry!” she cried, as he wrapped his fingers around her upper arms to steady her.

It was then he noted she was off her phone.

“Everything okay?”

“That was my friend, Maribeth,” she explained. “We’ve been besties since middle school. And she wasn’t buying my fake, having the time of my life in the Pacific Northwest communications. So she looked into things and learned about Ray Andrews and Richard Sandusky.”

“Ah,” he murmured, thinking that would do it for any friend, best or not.

Having no reason to keep his hands on her anymore, he let her go and took a step away.

“So she’s a little freaked, and I’ve been semi-kinda ghosting her, which made her more freaked.”

“That tracks,” he noted.

“And, well, she was done with being freaked and about to buy a ticket out here to hunt me down to make sure I was okay. I talked her down from that. Though, she’s planning to come out soon.”

“That’ll be good, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, I just…” she let that trail.

“You just what?”

“Well, first, I have some probably punk kids who are playing tricks on me. Second, I live in a famous haunted cabin. But most of all, she didn’t want me to come out here because being out here was being out from under her watchful eye. However, I told her I needed space to get my head together about all that went down, and I haven’t really set to work on that,” she admitted.

---