Page 2 of It Happened on the Lake

But it didn’t matter.

The plan had been for Harper to wait until she spied Beth crossing the lake in her mom’s kayak and then meet her on the dock. That’s where the candy switch was going to take place, Beth bringing over the duplicates she’d picked up and Harper giving her some of the candy that Gram always bought despite the fact that the mansion received no trick-or-treaters.

Ever.

Still, Gram bought dozens of big candy bars like Butterfingers and Big Hunks and Baby Ruths, all left in a huge bowl near the front door.

Harper knew just where to watch for her friend.

Even if she had to lie to her folks.

So Harper broke the rules.

And snuck out, leaving Bandit in her room.

Big deal.

It wasn’t the first time.

She didn’t bother with a jacket, just slipped silently down the stairs, out the back door and around the house. Then, glancing back only once, she dashed through the thick mist to the open gate where gargoyles huddled on their posts. Barely noticing them, Harper ran across the narrow, wet bridge leading to the private island where the huge house loomed.

Coughing as she opened the door to the garage, she slid inside and hurried to the staircase that curved upward to the attic space where the gardener sometimes lived. At the landing she stepped through a small door that opened to the second floor of the main house, an entrance used by servants. It was dark inside, only lamplight from the first level illuminating the narrow, winding staircase.

But she knew the way.

Already she had found and pocketed the extra key to the tower room, her grandfather’s private domain. Armed with a weak-bulbed flashlight, she swept past the third floor where Mama sometimes stayed and wound her way up the narrow steps to the turret.

At the top step, her leg brushed against something soft.

“Rrawr!” one of Gram’s cats shrieked.

Harper jumped back, her foot slipping.

She caught herself on the rail, dropping the flashlight. It tumbled down the flight, sending its yellowish beam reeling over ceiling, walls, and stairs. The wide-eyed cat, that miserable Diablo, crouched. Then, with an irritated hiss, he flashed his needle-like teeth before quickly scurrying away, his long gray tail trailing after him as he skulked down the stairs.

Harper froze. Afraid someone might have heard the commotion.

But the only sound was the thudding of her own heart, pounding loudly over the whisper of air in the heat ducts.

She blinked several times, straining to listen, disregarding the fact that she felt hot.

But there was no noise from the servants’ quarters. They all had the night off. And Harper knew her grandmother was passing out baskets of candy at St. Catherine’s Hospital and Orphanage, so Gram wouldn’t be back for a while. Gramps was at his gentlemen’s club in Portland.

She silently stole down the stairs to the third floor, retrieved her flashlight at the door to the room Mama claimed. Her “sanctuary” whenever she and Daddy had a fight. The door was ajar and Harper peered inside, caught a glimpse of the Bible on the night table and the crucifix with bleeding Jesus on the cross positioned over the bed where several of Gram’s weird dolls had been propped. Another cat was curled on a pillow, a fat silver tabby who lifted his head briefly.

Harper left him where he was and mounted the stairs again. She was feeling worse than ever, but she used her purloined key and stepped inside a room that smelled of tobacco and English Leather cologne. She didn’t bother with the lights, just made her way to the telescope mounted near the windows overlooking the lake.

Though this room had windows all around the turret, including the small bathroom, Gramps’s leather chair was positioned near south-facing panes and the wide expanse of black water. Here, high above the trees, he had a wide view of all of Lake Twilight, illuminated tonight by a nearly full moon shrouded by the ever-shifting fog.

Seated on the edge of the chair, Harper ignored her pounding headache and adjusted the scope to peer through the eyepiece. The telescope was already focused directly across the lake to Beth’s house. But she didn’t spy Beth. Instead, through the rolling mist, she caught sight of Mrs. Leonetti in her bedroom. Alaina was taking off her blouse and bra before stepping out of her slacks. She’d been a model, Beth had confided in Harper, and a “Playboy Playmate” forPlayboymagazine. The centerfold! Like that was a big deal or something. Harper’s mother had overheard the conversation, and Mama’s lips had pursed as she read from herTrue Confessionsmagazine. Her eyebrows had risen, and she’d muttered something about fake boobs and “falsies” in obvious disapproval before turning the page.

Harper didn’t know about any of that, and she wasn’t interested in Alaina’s bare breasts, but she thought she might see Beth.

No such luck.

No sign of her friend.

So she turned her attention to the neighboring house where Levi Hunt was to have had his party. But she spied no kids on the dock, where grinning jack-o’-lanterns glowed, their ghoulish reflections barely visible on the dark water. Obviously the party was well over, the costumed kids let loose on the surrounding neighborhood.

---