Page 259 of It Happened on the Lake

How had no one known?

True, the house and island had been basically abandoned soon after he disappeared, but the smell alone would have been a dead giveaway. Unless Tom had wrapped him in the tarp with odor-suppressing chemicals and everyone had stayed away.

God, what a mess.

And what had happened to Craig?

She dragged herself to her feet and picked out the darts buried in her arm and shoulder. Damn that Craig. What a bastard. If he survived, she’d press charges against him, and if Beth didn’t like it, well, she could just lump it.

Shivering, her teeth chattering, Harper found the flashlight resting against the wall of the boathouse. She cast one last look at the lapping water and wrecked boat and, of course, the bones that had been Chase, then she left, dripping, as she made her way through the tunnel and basement.

She’d call Rand when she got upstairs.

And Levi.

They both could deal with what remained of Chase, and Rand could round up Craig. Get the police and paramedics. Craig obviously wasn’t hurt so badly that he couldn’t swim. Maybe he would drown. Served him right! Her cheek still stung, as did her arm and shoulder where his damned darts had found her flesh.

And he would have killed her to keep her quiet, she decided as she made her way upstairs. Well, she wasn’t going to keep quiet. Whether Craig lived, which she figured would happen, or died, which he deserved, the truth had to come out.

And Beth would hate her forever.

Well, too damned bad. A price she had to pay, she decided as she climbed to her feet and walked, dripping, through the tunnel and up the stairs to the veranda where the air was fresh. She was cold to the bone, her hip ached, and she’d have to attend to the pinpricks where Craig’s darts had found her flesh.

Would he really have killed her?

It seemed so at the time.

He’d been like a cornered rat, ready to tear into her and damn the consequences. She tried the door, but, of course, it was locked. She had to go back the way she came as her keys were in the house.

At least now it was secure.

As she made her way into the boathouse, she cast one look into the water where she knew the remains of Chase now lay. “Rest in peace,” she said brokenly, then headed through the tunnel.

The events of the excruciating day rolled through her mind as she walked, her sodden shoes squishing with each step.

Levi had come to the house and demanded to be named as Dawn’s father. Well, that would have to be addressed, and everyone, including Joel, would have to deal.

Rand had showed up, too, telling them both about Trick Vargas and Janet Collins. Rand seemed to think Vargas and Janet’s death were all tied into what had happened to Chase, that it was all somehow connected, but Harper didn’t see how.

That was all just coincidence. Right?

Gram’s voice came to her then. From a memory in late summer when Harper was only about five or six. “I don’t believe in coincidence, Harper girl,” she’d said as she’d watered her garden with a soft spray, then switched off the nozzle to watch a honeybee moving from one heavy rose blossom to the next, its tiny legs already covered thick with pollen. “But I do believe in God and Jesus Christ, of course.” Her gaze had moved to a fuzzy bumblebee that was crawling on the pink petals of one of her favorite wild roses. “And I believe in karma,” she said.

“What’s karma?”

“Oh, let’s see.” Gram had looked upward, past the brim of her straw hat to the summer blue sky. “It’s tit for tat, you know, meaning if you do something good, you’ll be rewarded.”

“And if you do something bad?” Harper asked.

“Oh, you wouldn’t want to because then something bad will happen to you.”

“Because God sees it?”

“Oh yes. He’s definitely involved with karma. You can count on that, Harper girl.”

She’d turned on the water again, and Harper remembered the prism of light cast in the gentle spray, so soft it hadn’t disturbed a spider’s web, minuscule water droplets catching on the delicate threads.

Gram had added softly, “But coincidence? It just doesn’t exist.”

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