Page 128 of It Happened on the Lake

“Did ya now? Well, let me tell you somethin’. In my experience, the apple don’t fall far from the tree.” He gave Levi a hard look. “And you’re Tom Hunt’s boy, now, aren’t ya? I don’t like to speak ill of the dead, and I think your mom was a good, decent woman. But your old man? The cop? Not so much. So, that’s all I got to say to you. Come along, Jake.” He turned away and slipped through the door, leaving the brick steadfastly in place.

Levi saw that he was tarred by the same brush as his father, just like Rand was. But there was no arguing with Sievers, who’d said all he was going to say. Levi left through the unlocked gate rather than going through the interior and dealing with Patty and all her sign-in sheets. He’d take the cold October rain instead. He dashed along a sidewalk that curved sharply to the front of the building and the visitors’ parking lot.

And ran into a woman holding an umbrella, a woman in a long coat who seemed to be scrutinizing the building. “Levi,” she said, and his stomach dropped as he recognized Rhonda DeAngelo or whatever her name was now.

She happily supplied it. “It’s Rhonda. Rhonda Simms. You remember me, from high school. Way back when, when I was Rhonda DeAngelo.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“I hadsucha crush on you,” she admitted, rain dripping from her umbrella.

What do you say to that? Was there anything? “Oh, I didn’t know.”

She waved his embarrassment away and turned the conversation on a dime. “Look, I’d like to talk to you. I’m a reporter withThe Twilight Tribunenow . . .”

That much he did know.

“And I’m doing a piece on your brother’s disappearance and your mother’s demise. Oh, I’m so, so sorry for your loss.”

A little too late. An afterthought. But then he knew Rhonda, or he had in high school. She’d been a sneak who idled around corners listening to gossip and always turning on a thousand-watt smile for the teachers. What they’d called a kiss-ass back then. But that had been twenty years ago. People changed as they became adults. At least some did.

“Thanks,” he said blandly. He didn’t want to think about dredging up all the scandal. He’d lived through it. And once was enough. He started for his car, but she kept step with him. “I’d like to know what you think.”

“What?”

“You know, about your mother’s . . . accident and your father . . . I mean he died on the lake, too. And Chase disappeared there.”

He decided to cut to the chase. “You want to interview me for a story, is that right? And you want to put my family’s tragedies in the paper?” Before she could answer, he asked, “What’re you doing here, Rhonda? Why did you come to Serenity Acres?”

“This is where your mother lived.”

He thought about Ed Sievers and his little dog. Ed had just been doing his mother a favor, but if the truth came out, no doubt he’d be kicked out of the facility, and not only would other reporters pick up the story but the police would come calling. What would happen to him then? Yeah, Levi was pissed that the old guy had snuck Mom to the lake house, but what was done was done.

“So, I’d love to buy you a cup of coffee or a beer or whatever, if we could talk about what happened.”

From beneath the canopy of her umbrella, she smiled up at him. Friendly. Kind. Compassionate. At least that’s the aura she wanted to convey.

“I’m busy.”

“Later, then. You pick the time.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Sensing she was getting the brush-off, she persisted. “Well, the sooner the better.”

“I told you I’m busy.”

“And I think you’re trying to avoid me.”

He didn’t argue, sensed her anger, but kept walking.

She grabbed his arm, and he paused, rain collecting on his bare head. “Consider this a heads-up. I’m writing this story, Levi. With or without talking to you. In fact, it’s going to press tonight, but I still have a little time. I would think you would want to give me your perspective, your side of what happened.” Beneath the empathetic façade, he heard a glimmer of steel and noted that there were still just a smattering of cars in the lot, one of which was a dark Toyota sedan, the car that had rolled into the parking lot right after he arrived.

“Did you follow me here?” he asked.

“No!”

He thought of all the messages she’d left on his recorder, messages he hadn’t returned, and he kicked himself for not realizing she’d been tailing him. He was a PI, for God’s sake, and knew all the tricks of the trade. It was one of the reasons he’d bought this car, big and boxy, several of them in the town of Almsville alone, thousands across the nation, a family sedan that would blend in, not be noticed. Unless you were looking. Like Rhonda Simms. And not only had he not been expecting her, but he’d been caught in the web of his own thoughts. About his mother. About his brother. And about Harper.

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