Page 146 of It Happened on the Lake

Fear curdled her stomach as she turned quickly around in the room, her heart in her throat, barely able to breathe. Her heart was drumming as fast as a hummingbird’s wings and she had to fight the swell of panic rising within her.

Someone had Jinx?

And they were toying with her?

Taunting her?

Playing into her worst fears?

Who?

Why?

Frantically she eyed the room, looking for she didn’t know what. A clue as to who was behind this sick little joke? A reason to believe that Jinx was still alive?

“Oh God,” she whispered and realized she was still holding the offensive doll, the one Gram had said looked like Harper as a child. Her skin crawled from touching it, but she removed Jinx’s collar and stuffed it into her pocket. Then she carried Toodles into the kitchen and the trash bin. She stomped on the pedal to open the lid and expected to see Maude staring up at her.

The can was empty.

A new frisson of fear swept up her spine. And she looked around sharply, as if the doll were somewhere else in the kitchen, staring down at her. Mocking her.

That was impossible, and she saw no evidence of Maude.

Anywhere.

Then she remembered the cleaning people. They’d taken out the trash, doll and all. “Calm down,” she told herself as she turned on the exterior lights. “Don’t give into them. They’re playing mind games, that’s all. Games you can win.” Despite her verbal bolstering, she wasn’t sure of her chances of winning against this hidden, maleficent enemy and fear was very much her companion. “Get a grip,” she reminded herself. Whoever was behind these parlor tricks was a twisted individual and a coward, hiding in the shadows, watching from afar. She couldn’t, wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of cowering, but oh, oh, oh, she was worried sick about Jinx. Surely whoever had him, if they did, wouldn’t hurt him. So far, the loser who had done this to her had just tried to scare and intimidate her.

But she couldn’t trust he wouldn’t escalate.

Shakily she turned on the exterior lights, then walked outside to the cool morning, dawn still not breaking. She went to the large cans by the garage and opened one. Junk and dirt was piled high, but she didn’t see the missing doll. Nor was Maude in the second can.

Well, too bad. She dropped Toodles into the trash and said, “Sorry, Gram,” as if her grandmother could see her and was silently scolding her. Then, still extremely unnerved, she went inside, her eyes sweeping the ground for any sign of the cat, or an intruder.

Of course she saw nothing.

“Great,” she muttered, then went to the garage, found her grandfather’s tool kit, dug through it, and, as luck would have it, found two hook and eye latches. They weren’t all that strong but offered some security for now, since she hadn’t thought to have the locksmith install a lock on her bedroom door.

She carried the tool kit up the stairs to the third floor and, using hammer, screwdriver, screws, and nails, fastened the latches to her door and frame.

It wouldn’t keep a serious intruder out.

But it might buy her some time.

This was crazy.

Someone was playing with her.

Trying to frighten her.

But who?

And why?

By the time she replaced the toolbox in the garage, dawn was crawling across the eastern sky. Inside the locked house, she reheated a cup of coffee in the old Radarange and tried to keep her mind from spinning with questions she couldn’t answer. She did think about calling the police, but again, what could she say?

Someone was sneaking into her house just to scare her?

That didn’t make any sense.

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