Page 25 of It Happened on the Lake

Levi shoved his hair from his eyes, then shook his head. “Not yet.”

“He’s a cop, he’ll know what to do.”

“No!” He was vehement. “He’d kill Chase for taking out the boat.”

If he’s not dead already.

The horrid thought stopped her short. She let out a little squeak and blinked hard against a sudden spate of tears. She was so scared she was shaking. “We . . . wehaveto find him.”

“I know. I know. We will,” he promised, his voice softening. He awkwardly folded her into his arms. The drizzle was giving way to a fine mist, and Levi’s body against hers felt warm and solid. Strong and safe. Familiar. Her throat clogged and she clung to him. “We will, Harper. We’ll find him.” His breath ruffled her damp hair, his lips moving against the wet strands.

She wanted desperately to believe him, to meld into him, to let down completely, to trust him completely.

But she couldn’t.

Wouldn’t.

She and Levi had their own rocky history and were no longer the friends they had been while growing up.

The rift that had widened between them had been her fault as much as his, but there was no going back, no bridge that could span that deep cleft.

She blinked back tears and pushed him gently away, noticing as she did, a shadow pass behind the shades of the rental house. The scent of marijuana drifted out of the open window, and she wondered if whoever was in the house, up and smoking pot at this hour, had heard them.

Well, too bad. Chase was missing.

“Maybe Rand knows something,” Levi suggested.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. But he’s Chase’s best friend. I figure it’s worth a shot.” Levi started walking back down the narrow road.

She had to run to keep up with him when he broke into a jog past his own house. As they reached the A-frame, he stopped, then whispered, “It might be best if it’s just me.”

“But I’m the one who—”

“I know, but it might be best to keep you out of it now, ya know?” He looked at her and she understood. Rand’s father, like Tom Hunt, was a policeman. She would have a lot of explaining to do, explaining she’d rather keep to herself. Levi said, “If Rand doesn’t know where he is, then we’ll have to tell Dad. But . . .”

“For now keep the cops out of it?”

Their gazes met, and he gave a curt nod. From the upper branches of the surrounding trees an owl hooted hollowly.

Levi said, “Until I talk to my old man.”

“He’ll go ballistic.”

Levi’s mouth twisted down at the corners, and he said, “Won’t be the first time.”

She knew that to be true. Chase’s father tried to rule his headstrong sons with an iron fist.

“Stay here.” Levi motioned for her to get into his truck, an old pickup parked on the street opposite the Hunts’ house. As she climbed inside the battered Dodge, he jogged to the Watkins’ scrubby yard.

From the other side of the fence, Sievers’s dog gave off a sharp, warning bark.

Levi paid no attention to it. He stepped onto the concrete slab in front of the door and knocked.

Seconds later an interior light snapped on.

Next door, at Old Man Sievers’s house, the dog started whining and growling, pacing the length of the porch. Harper rolled down the window and adjusted the big side mirror of the pickup so she could watch the Watkins’ porch.

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