Page 100 of It Happened on the Lake

“Shit!” Kicking off his slippers, Gerald yelled over his shoulder, “Rand! Get Tom. Go get Tom! Tell him we need backup! And transportation to the hospital! Go!” Fully clothed, he dived into the cold water, then swam toward the body lying face down thirty yards from shore.

Rand stood frozen for a second. He thought he might puke.

A dead woman?

Holy shit! He blinked, then took off, nearly bowling over Sievers, who had followed them to the yard.

He pushed past Mom, who stood, hands to her mouth, in the doorway. She was pale as death herself as she kept her eyes on the body in the water. “What—who? Oh dear Lord.” Rand didn’t stop. Just raced through the house and out the open front door, not bothering to close it. He darted across the yard and jumped the creek without breaking stride. He reached the Hunts’ house within seconds.

Lights burned bright through the windows. As he pounded on the door, it swung open. Levi, pale-faced, hair disheveled, stood in his pajamas.

“I need to see your dad—”

“He’s outside,” Levi told him. “Out back.”

Rand brushed past his friend, running fast down the hallway to the back of the house and the open sliding door off the kitchen. Levi followed him, stride for stride. Outside, Chase, in boxer shorts, was leaning over the rail of the deck, staring into the water. Cynthia stood closer to the house. Her hair was wrapped in brush rollers, her bathrobe cinched tight, her face pale as death as she tried to light a cigarette with shaking fingers.

Rand skidded to a stop, his gaze glued on the lake.

Levi didn’t slow down. He leaped over the few steps to the dock. “Dad? You need help?”

But Thomas Hunt was too busy to answer. He was already swimming to aid Rand’s dad, who was dragging the woman’s body to shore.

“Did you—did you call for an ambulance?” Rand asked.

Eyes wide in horror, Cynthia nodded blankly. But she was finally able to put the flame from her lighter against the tip of her trembling cigarette.

From the other side of Rand’s house, Sievers’s shepherd was still barking and growling, pacing on the old man’s deck, sending up a racket. Other dogs around the lake joined in, a cacophony of barks and yips. Beyond the point, lights from other houses flicked to life. In neighboring yards, neighbors appeared, some in jackets, some in pajamas, all serious and huddled in family groups. All eyes were trained on the drama unfolding on the lake.

Together, holding the woman’s head above the surface of the water, Dad and Tom swam toward the Hunts’ dock. The woman floating between them was dressed in a long white nightgown that floated around her. Her eyes were wide, seeming to stare at the charcoal sky, her dark hair drifting around her head.

“Who is it?” Levi asked. He was standing next to his mother on the deck, Rand a few feet away.

Cynthia Hunt whispered, “No . . . oh God, no.” She dropped her cigarette.

Chase was staring at the woman as his father hauled her onto the dock and Tom Hunt yelled, “Stand back! For Christ’s sake, Cyn, get the kids inside!”

“It’s Evan’s mom,” Chase said, dumbstruck as Cynthia began to sob.

“Cynthia! Go inside! Take the kids!” Tom ordered as he dragged himself out of the water, his hair plastered to his head, his breathing labored. “Did you hear me? Get the boys inside!”

“Oh no . . . oh no, no,” Chase said as the two men hauled the woman onto the dock and her ashen face was visible, her features defined, her blue, blue eyes lifeless.

“What?” Shocked, Rand didn’t want to believe it. And yet he knew Chase was right. It was Anna Reed.

Not just Evan’s mom but Harper’s as well. His stomach revolted.

“Anna?” Cynthia gasped, disbelieving.

“Go inside!” Tom bellowed.

Rand doubled over at the edge of the dock and heaved, vomiting into the dark impenetrable water, his body cramping.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Cynthia shepherding her sons inside the house while his dad and Tom tried feverishly to revive the woman on the dock.

But it was too late.

They knew it.

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