Page 260 of It Happened on the Lake

Now, in the tunnel, she was too cold, shaken, too damned disturbed to contemplate the existence of coincidence or anything else for that matter. Right now, she needed a stiff drink before making some important calls.

Some of her anger was dissipating, though, and she hoped to high heaven that Craig didn’t die. Then she’d be a murderer. Even if she’d shot in self-defense.

As she reached the main floor, she went straight to the bar and poured herself a double shot of Scotch. Then she tossed the drink back, feeling the warmth hit her throat before settling in her stomach.

She let out a slow breath and went into the kitchen. She was still quivering from the cold, but her teeth had stopped chattering so she could make those phone calls. Then she would take a hot shower and find clean, warm pajamas and . . .

Did she hear something?

A soft scrape?

Did she feel a slight stirring in the house?

She paused to listen, then heard nothing. Her nerves were jangled, getting the better of her. Of course. That was it. Nothing more.

The nightmare was over.

Finally.

No longer would she have to fear finding any more dolls with cryptic messages or dead cats hiding in the shadows.

That was something to be thankful for. But then there was Jinx . . . Her heart twisted painfully as she thought she might never find out what had happened to him, that quite possibly his nine lives had finally run out.

She walked into the hallway and again thought she heard something.

A footfall?

No way.

She was imagining it, her anxiety getting the better of her.

She stood, listening, ears straining, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary and she saw no one.

In the bath downstairs she kicked off her shoes, toweled her hair, and caught her image in the mirror. “Still bad,” she told her reflection. Though the red marks from her stitches had faded significantly and the bruising on her face was almost invisible, she now sported a welt on her cheek left from the dart. Worse and larger than a bee sting.

As she examined the mark, she remembered once telling her grandmother that she hated bees while Gram was applying a baking soda paste to the back of her knee where a hornet had nailed her.

“Oh no, dear,” Gram had said in this very room. “All of God’s creatures have a purpose.”

Red-faced and crying, all of five, Harper had stomped her foot. “Not bees, Gram. Not that stupid black bee!”

“Oh, sweetheart, even hornets can be good and have a purpose. Just trust in God.” Then she’d folded Harper into her arms, the smell of cigarette smoke and perfume heavy. “God has a plan always,” Gram said, kissing the top of Harper’s head. “And sometimes He asks us to help implement it.”

“He even has a plan for hornets?” Harper had said, sniffling and disbelieving.

“Oh yes, Harper girl. Especially for hornets.” Olivia had held her granddaughter at arm’s length and winked at her. “Now, come along, I do believe I have some of that pineapple sherbet your mother likes so much in the freezer. Matilda bought some sugar cones last week, so I think I can rummage up a scoop of sherbet with your name on it!” She’d touched Harper on the tip of her nose with one finger. “Boop,” she’d said, smiling and bustling Harper toward the kitchen. “Let’s go see.”

That was a long time ago, Harper thought as she walked barefoot into the kitchen to make the call.

Why the hell was she thinking of her grandmother now, when her whole life was falling apart?

Still freezing, she considered another drink but dismissed it.Later, she told herself. First the phone calls that had to be made. Then out of her wet clothes, through a hot shower—or maybe a bath.

She didn’t bother with the lights as she listened to the two messages left on the phone’s recorder.

The first, of course, was from Rhonda Simms giving her “one last chance” to weigh in on the next article about the island and Lake Twilight. “Oh, give it a rest,” she said, erasing the call. Then she hit the Play button again, and this time Dawn’s voice was audible. “Hey Mom, call me. I’m okay.” Her voice trembled a little and there was a pause, then she cleared her throat. “Really, I’m fine. But I did run into some trouble.”

What trouble?she thought, her heart in her throat.

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