Page 169 of It Happened on the Lake

But not today, she thought.

And probably not tomorrow.

1988

The Present

Chapter 42

“Bitch.”

Cynthia’s final accusation, one hurled in agony from a burning, sinking boat, still rang in Harper’s ears.

So she decided to pour one more drink. “Why not?” Harper drained the remainder of the bottle into her glass, reminded herself to stop at the liquor store the next day, then walked up the stairs to the tower room. She didn’t bother turning on the light but made her way to the telescope and brought her grandfather’s chair closer to it. Ignoring the sense that she might be invading someone’s privacy, that she wasn’t much better than Gramps, she took a swallow from her glass, then bent down to look through the eyepiece. She, as was her custom, started with the Sievers’ bungalow where lights shone from the windows.

A noise interrupted her.

Muted but audible.

A quiet footfall?

No.

But she didn’t move a muscle and listened.

Was there another—just the softest tread of a footstep?

She swung around.

Nothing.

No one.

Get over yourself.

Yet she was certain she’d heard something. She walked to the top of the stairs and looked down the dark spiral to the light from the hallway below.

No furtive shadow passed on the landing.

No blood-thirsty monster jumped out at her.

No killer appeared holding a knife or gun.

Whatever she’d heard—or thought she’d heard—was gone. She strained to listen but heard nothing but the rumble of the old furnace and the sough of the wind as it swept around the tower.

Don’t be a goose.

Yet her skin crawled, icy pimples on the backs of her arms, and she remembered the dolls, moved and desecrated.

Everything was quiet.

Still.

Maybe she’d been mistaken. Maybe what she’d heard was all her imagination. She took another sip from her glass, told herself to calm down, then settled in her chair again, but her nerves weren’t calmed. Despite the warmth of the liquor running through her veins, she was still edgy, her ears straining for any unfamiliar sound, her muscles tense.

Pull yourself together.

She finished her drink and poured another, then spied the telescope and decided to check things out. Already it was pointed across the lake to Fox Point, so she leaned into it and focused on the houses across the lake. The night was clear, moonlight visible and a gaseous blue light from the lamp post on the street in front of the row of houses offered some visibility.

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