Page 198 of It Happened on the Lake

God, she was drunk.

Wobbling, she eased down the steps, but at the base of the staircase, she said, “Bruce? Is that you?” Again, she waited, listening, but heard only her own heartbeat.

And yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t alone. “Bruce?” Anna called, as she staggered into the kitchen and picked up her drink. Nothing here. Sipping from her glass, she walked unsteadily to the laundry room and flipped on the porch light. Peering uneasily through the window cut into the door, she had trouble focusing. Between the dark night, rain, and the combo of booze and pills, she saw nothing.

Opening the back door, she noticed that the lock wasn’t latched. Not that it ever was, because of the kids coming and going at all hours. But tonight? Fumbling, she turned the latch.

“Huh.” Steadying herself on the wall, Anna returned to the kitchen for “just one more.” She teetered a little as she set the glass on the counter, ready to pour in the last of the gin. As she did, she noticed bits of powder in her empty glass. “What the hell?” Hadn’t it been clean when she’d taken it from the cupboard?

Or—

Suddenly the lights went out.

Had they blown a fuse? Like a main one?

A spidery feeling tickled the back of her neck.

A warning.

And something rustled.

Just slightly.

Fear slid down her spine.

“Is anyone there?” she asked and started for the phone.

Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

She reached for the receiver and heard a rush of footsteps.

Coming straight at her.

“What—?” She turned.

Smack!

Something hard and flat hit her full force. Across her face.

“Oh!”

Blood gushed from her nose.

Gasping, she staggered backward, her entire face throbbing.

What—?

Whack!

Another blow to the face.

Excruciating pain roared through her body.

Her knees crumpled.

She fell trying to save herself. Failing. The side of her head bounced off the counter’s sharp edge to thud against the old linoleum.

The dark world spun crazily.

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