Page 115 of It Happened on the Lake

Not anymore.

Hadn’t for a long time.

He’s served his purpose, she thought, cringing a little at the thought.

“Tell you what,” he said, still pushing, “I have to be in Portland in the next couple of days on business. I might be staying awhile. I’ll stop by.”

“Call first.” She’d get the gate fixed and make sure it was locked. “I’m in and out.” And maybe she’d change the phone number, too. That wasn’t such a bad idea.

“Harper,” he said, finally getting it. “I could—”

“Youcouldremember we’re divorced.”

“We have a kid.”

There was that. She had a sharp retort but held her tongue. And said instead, “And you have a girlfriend.”

A pause. “Melanie and I broke up.”

Oh, boo-hoo. But she didn’t say it, didn’t want him to hear her sarcasm. Nor did she care one way or another about her ex’s love life. Except that now he was calling her. Feigning interest. Not because she’d been in the hospital, but because now, finally, she’d come of age and inherited her family’s fortune. She knew that much.

“Listen, Harper. You and I—we agreed to get along. For Dawn,” he reminded her. “She wants to see you. She said so.”

Harper’s stupid heart twisted. Damn Joel. He knew just how to manipulate her. And using her daughter as bait was cruel enticement.

“I talked to her,” she said finally. “Again, I already told her I was okay.”

“She didn’t believe you.”

“I’ll tell her again. Or she can come up, she’s got a car. Or I can drive to Eugene in a couple of days, see her apartment—”

“I’ll bring her over.”

“No!” she said sharply. Then, knowing a fight wouldn’t help things, said more calmly, “Just let me settle in.”

Before he could argue, before he could work on her emotions, before he could remind herYou owe me, she hung up.

She couldn’t deal with him. Not now. Joel Frickin’ Prescott wasn’t her only problem, unfortunately. There was Rand, once Chase’s best friend and now a damned detective of all things. Worse yet, he was obviously looking not only into Cynthia Hunt’s accident but also into her grandmother’s death and Chase’s disappearance.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that she, once again, was a suspect.

Which was just what she didn’t need.

As if she wasn’t edgy and stressed enough already. Although she’d thought she would sleep like the dead the night before, she hadn’t. Sleep had been elusive, and she’d spent hours tossing and turning in the sleeping bag before waking up to the whole weird doll thing and the knowledge that someone had been in the house.

So, no, she didn’t need Joel calling her or Rand questioning her or Levi showing up in her hospital room.

Despite her headache and her preoccupation with the fact that someone had actually gotten into the house, she’d spent some time with an out-of-date yellow pages but had yet to connect with a cleaning service that wasn’t out of business. She also found an old toolbox and hammered stops in the broken window frame so the pane couldn’t be opened more than two inches. She cleaned a little, concentrating on dirty fixtures and dusty countertops. All the while, of course, she searched for the cat and nursed her hangover.

Then Joel had called.

“Get over it,” she told herself now and heard a scrape. The sound of a footfall.

But no one was here.

Oh, for the love of God, she was freaking herself out. “Don’t do this,” she warned, but felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.

It was as if she could feel someone in the house or at the very least someone watching her.

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