Page 20 of It Happened on the Lake

Macho and full of himself as he was, Evan had always teased her, had thought he could get the better of his younger, more naïve sister.

Never had he fooled her. “Never,” she whispered aloud and hated to admit how much she missed him.

Once more, she twisted the knob on her lamp, giving the signal.

She waited and watched.

Not a flicker of response.

“Oh, comeon!”

She tossed the binoculars onto the bed in frustration.

On the window seat, staring through the glass, she waited as night turned to morning.

Eventually she dozed in that position.

Dreams of Chase sifting through her mind.

When the clock struck four, she awakened with a start, her neck cramped.

She couldn’t stand the waiting a minute longer.

She had to find him. Talk to him. Even though it was still hours before dawn.

She considered calling his house, but if she did, she would wake the entire household. And his parents already didn’t like her. Especially his mother. No, no, that wouldn’t work.

After taking the back stairs to the kitchen, she snagged her rain jacket from a rack of coats mounted over a row of boots in the mud room. Then she slipped out the side door where deliveries were made. A soft February drizzle was falling, the clouds overhead obscuring the moon and stars. Hardly daring to breathe, she skirted the tram’s garage and used the outdoor stairs to the dock.

Of course there was no sign of Chase.

If he’d made it this far, he would have used the key she’d secretly given to him and made his way inside. And his boat would be tethered nearby, most likely at the boathouse entrance, or beneath the willow branches of the tree near the only stretch of beach on the island.

She checked both places.

And came up empty.

Shivering, fearing the worst, she focused on the houses across the lake and the stretch of water that separated the island from the point. It was the narrowest span here. For a second she thought she caught a glimpse of something in the water, possibly some kind of craft floating on the undulating surface.

Squinting, she moved to the very edge of the dock and squinted. Yes! There!

A few hundred yards off the point! A boat!

Her heart jolted.

Finally!

He was coming!

Sending up a prayer of thanks, she felt a moment’s relief before she realized she heard no rumble of an engine. The boat wasn’t approaching. If anything it seemed to drift farther away.

What?

Was it someone else on the lake? Some early morning fisherman?

No . . . no, no, no!

Swallowing hard, her heart beating with dread, she climbed back up the stairs and slipped noiselessly into the house to the parlor and the telescope. It was positioned as she’d left it, focused on the far shore.

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