Page 201 of It Happened on the Lake

“I’ll think about it.”

“Great.” Whistling to the dog and shooing the big Newfoundland into the cab, he added, “Just let me know. And if you make any decision on the cars?” He hitched a thumb toward the closed garage doors. “I’m interested. Very interested.”

“Okay,” she said and couldn’t resist adding, “And the guns, right? You might be interested in a rifle or shotgun. What about the pistols?” she pushed, knowing she’d mentioned them before, but . . .

Did Craig flinch?

Just a bit?

Did an eyebrow twitch?

“Oh . . . well,” he said, and he seemed suddenly more tense than he had been. “Sure. I’m into firearms, so if there’s anything you’ve got, I might want to take a look.” Then, as if suddenly remembering, said, “I might be interested in a shotgun, especially that old Parker Side by Side that I saw Dad cleaning a couple of times.”

“But the pistols?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Sure.”

“Okay. I’ll look for them,” she said, noting that his eyes narrowed just a fraction. “Funny thing. I found one pretty soon after I got here, but then, I don’t know.” She shrugged. “It went missing.”

“You said there were two,” he reminded her.

“Yeah, I know, but I only came across one and then . . . well, it’s gone.” Her gaze held his. “I know right where I left it and now, I can’t find it. It’s not there.”

He snorted. “Guns don’t just get up and walk by themselves.”

“That’s what I keep telling myself.” She held his gaze, and she couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like his jaw tightened just a fraction. “The other thing that I’m missing is my cat,” she said. “I found his collar, but he’s just gone.”

“Cats wander off. It’s what they do. He’ll probably come back.”

“He’d better,” she said and couldn’t keep the edge out of her voice. “If you see him—he’s a tuxedo, black and white—let me know.”

“I’ll keep a lookout.”

“Do that.”

Craig made a big show of looking at his watch. “Look, I gotta run. Let me know about the estimate.” He opened the door of his truck and slid behind the wheel next to his dog. “And don’t forget about the guns and cars. Especially that Corvette. Man, I’d love to take that one for a spin.”

“Who knows if it will even start.”

“Not without keys,” he reminded her. He forced a smile, climbed into the cab, and then he was off, driving his truck across the bridge and through the gate. As she headed back inside, she automatically scanned the undergrowth for Jinx.

Where the hell was that cat?

He had been wearing his collar when he disappeared with Harper’s phone number on his tag. No one had called, though of course the number on the collar was for her home in Santa Rosa and, more importantly, someone had left his collar around the doll as a clear message.

Nonetheless, she decided to check her phone in California. She didn’t expect to hear about Jinx, but there could be other important messages. She called her own number in California and used a numerical key to access her messages. There were half a dozen, including an offer for lawn service, a volunteer asking for support for Michael Dukakis’s presidential campaign, and several hang-ups.

About what she expected.

She erased all the messages, then, screwing up her courage, called the number that she’d copied from Levi’s office door. On the third ring, his answering machine picked up, and she hesitated about leaving a message about Chase’s things and the diamond necklace. Instead, she just asked him to call her back, leaving her phone number.

Only then did she open Craig’s estimate for repair work on the house.

She nearly choked. He’d broken the work down into what was necessary just to get the house functioning reasonably well and what it would take to bring it up to code, and then what he suggested to get it in “resale” condition. The numbers were staggering. And then there was the gatehouse, which in Craig’s estimation was a total gut job. There was a note that it might be easier and more cost-effective to level the little house near the front gates and start over.

“Wow,” she said. She’d inherited a fortune, true. But it had been significantly pared down over the years by Gram’s attorneys, and her father and stepmother dipping in—ostensibly for Harper’s care and education, but she still wasn’t convinced of that.

She glanced over the figures and told herself she just had to get a second bid, despite Beth having once been her best friend.

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