Page 51 of Passion at the Lake

I waved.

“Sorry I’m late. Hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“Of course not,” I assured her. “I’ve been enjoying a few minutes in the fresh air.”

She extended her arm toward the door and started that way. “Pris texted to say she’ll be a little late, but that shouldn’t hold us up from getting started on an appetizer.”

I followed her. “Sounds like a plan.”

She pulled open the door. “Have you been here before?”

“Once, a long time ago.” It had been a date with Boone, before the breakup. Normally we stayed in Peterville, so traveling here had been a treat.

She noticed me staring at the wall of candid photos on the wall just inside the entrance and stopped. “Ned takes these as he pedals around town.”

“The guy on the lay-back tricycle?” I asked.

She nodded. “Yup. Every day Rita—she runs the place—throws a dart at the wall. If it hits your picture, you get a free dessert.” She pointed at the picture that had the dart in it. It was a girl looking away. She had a baseball cap on and was climbing down from a pickup.

“Looks like it’s Pris’s lucky day,” Callie said. “If I hadn’t called her for this lunch, she would’a missed out.”

It had been years, and I’d only met Priscilla Benson a few times. I wouldn’t have recognized that picture as her.

Callie walked on as abruptly as she’d stopped. “Let’s get a window table.”

The view out the back was just as stunning as I remembered—a full view of the lake stretched out before us. The rest of the place hadn’t changed one bit either. It still had intentionally mismatched chairs, no two the same at any table. And, each table had a pair of binoculars for gazing out at the people enjoying paddle boards, canoes, and sailboats.

“How are you settling in?” Callie asked as we took our seats. “They giving you much trouble?”

“Marge is nice,” I started. So far she’d been extra sweet. “He’s…” I didn’t finish, deciding it would be simpler to not discuss my past with Boone.

“I meant the dogs,” she explained.

“Oh, them? They’re fine. With the way Izzy bites, though, it’s a good thing the material on my jeans is sturdy.”

“Yeah, I have no idea why Grace lets her get away with that. Me, I give her a little kick.”

I giggled. “I’ll think about trying that.”

“I suppose Clear Lake is quite a bit different than what you’re used to.”

“I like it so far. People are more present here, not so engrossed in their phones.”

“I hear ya. I spent a little time in Richmond one summer, and I found that sorta annoying.”

My curiosity got the better of me. “I’ve heard a few people talking about a guy named Lee. What’s the story behind that?”

Her eyes went wide for a second. She leaned forward. “He was, er…is Pris’s boyfriend. He disappeared a few months back.”

“That’s a chickenshit way to break up with her.”

“Ya see, Lee is a Pollock, and Pris being a Benson, neither of the families approved. They don’t have a body, but the cops think he’s dead, and they even tried to pin it on Pris’s brother, Waylon.”

I shivered when she saiddead. “That’s terrible.” I’d heard of deaths in the news, but actual death had never come this close to me before—never anybody just one acquaintance away.

“Maybe Pris’s having trouble processin’ it, but she says she doesn’t believe it.”

Curiosity once more took control of my tongue. “That he’s dead?” It was terrible of me to ask, but the words were already loose.

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