Page 171 of It Happened on the Lake

It was a moot point now.

Chase was long gone.

Living?

Dead?

She doubted anyone would ever know.

She picked up her glass from the carpet and went downstairs where she considered another drink. Deciding she was already slightly tipsy, she set her glass in the sink. She told herself to quit spying—who cared what Levi was doing, she was tired and should go to bed—but she couldn’t resist and went to her bedroom where the binoculars were stashed.

Then, from this lower angle, she adjusted the lenses and noted that lights were coming on at the Alexanders’ house. Feeling as if she were somehow betraying her friend, she trained the glasses on the kitchen where Beth dropped her purse and slipped out of her long coat before kicking off a pair of shoes. Craig and Max came in after her, the boy disappearing up the staircase with Beth following. Craig emptied his pockets of keys and wallet, setting both on a side table near the front door, then shrugged out of his jacket.

Lights snapped on upstairs and in the master bedroom, Beth shimmied out of a silvery jumpsuit, then disappeared into the adjoining bath, while in the bedroom down the hall Max had snapped on his bedroom light. Harper saw the top of Max’s head and the messy upper shelf of his closet as he opened the closet doors.

Meanwhile, Craig had descended into his office/workout room and dropped into his desk chair. He rubbed a hand around his face, checked his watch, and then went back to the door to lock it.

Odd, Harper thought, and wished she had another drink.

Once back at his desk, Craig settled into his chair again and picked up the receiver before dialing the phone. All the while his gaze was drawn to the door, almost as if he expected someone to burst in. He seemed agitated, drumming his fingers on the desk, then snapping to attention as if whoever was on the other end of the line had picked up. But he didn’t say a word, still waited, his face set and hard, then speaking for a few seconds—maybe leaving a short message—before he slammed the receiver down and dropped his head into his hands.

After a minute or so he looked up, muttered something, then stood and stripped off his polo shirt and tossed it onto the floor. He opened a drawer to retrieve a Walkman into which he slipped a cassette before fitting earphones over his head as he strode to the exercise bike in the corner. He swung onto the bike and started peddling fast, as if he were trying to run away from something but was going nowhere. As if demons were chasing him.

Harper moved the glasses. Though the shade was partially drawn in Max’s room, she noticed light flickering as if a television had been turned on. In the master bedroom the lights were on and the bathroom door open.

No Beth.

So what?

She was probably somewhere on the street side of the house, areas that weren’t visible from Harper’s vantage point.

What the hell are you doing, spying on your friend?

Are you nuts?

And then in the dark kitchen, the refrigerator door opened, casting a soft glow on Beth’s face as she quickly pulled out a green bottle of . . . champagne? She’d changed into jeans and a loose sweater with a boatneck. Not pajamas. Well, maybe it was too early for her to get ready for bed.

Stop it! You’re spying. Intruding. Why do you care what other people do in the privacy of their own homes?

She started to back away from the telescope when out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of light go on in the Hunts’ boathouse. She focused on Levi, peering inside as he stood in the doorway, his body cast in relief from the weak shifting illumination of lamplight on the water.

As if he’d sensed her watching him, he turned sharply toward the lake, his gaze focusing on the island.

She bit her lip.

Told herself to put down the binoculars.

Felt her heart begin to pound as she shrank back behind the curtains.

Even though she knew he couldn’t see her. Nor did she think he sensed her watching. Yet she picked up the binoculars and stood near the curtains to stare at him through the glasses. As she did, she felt a little rush and swallowed hard, just as he whirled quickly to face the house, as if he’d heard something.

And sure enough, the side gate swung open and Beth, carrying the backpack, slipped into the backyard. Beth held a finger to her lips as she hurried onto the dock.

Though the light from the boathouse was feeble, it was enhanced by the Sievers’ bright porch light. Harper saw that Levi was surprised, maybe even apprehensive, but that could have been her imagination because Beth quickly pulled the bottle from her backpack and handed it to him, before digging into the side pocket of the backpack once more and retrieving two champagne flutes.

“What’re you doing?” Harper whispered, now engrossed in the scene unfolding across the lake.

For his part, Levi didn’t move.

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