Page 29 of It Happened on the Lake

She heard the clock strike seven and tore herself away from the window.

Gram was usually up by now, but she could be sleeping late. When she was on her regular routine with drill sergeant Matilda, Gram was in bed by ten and she didnotget a couple of shots of gin before being tucked in.

But she would be awake soon, so Harper forced herself downstairs and into the kitchen, where she put the teakettle on to boil and found a bag of Earl Grey. She started filling the coffeepot with water in the chamber and several big scoops of Folgers in the basket, though she lost count of how many as her fingers were shaking and her mind was on Chase and the search party on the lake.

Maybe this was all for nothing. Maybe he would call her today and explain what had happened and . . . She clung to that hope.

“No need to borrow trouble,” Gram had told her often enough. “It comes knocking on your door, so don’t go looking for it.”

Well, it had definitely knocked—no, make that pounded—last night.

The teapot whistled, and as Harper began pouring water in the cup, the coffee gurgled, percolating and visible in the clear knob on the coffeepot’s lid.

Good.

Gram, who liked to bend the rules at night, stuck to her morning routine. First her tea with the pills, then a quick trip to the bathroom before she had coffee, an English biscuit, and a morning cigarette in the parlor. Gram ate her breakfast at nine, and hopefully Matilda would be here to take over by then.

Because Harper was going out of her mind.

She needed to be with Levi. With Rand. She needed to help.

As soon as Gram was up, Harper would walk across the bridge to the cottage to tell her father about last night and the fact that Chase Hunt had gone missing. She hazarded another glance out the windows to the lake and saw that even more boats had gathered, swarming near the police craft, but, from what she could tell, no sign of Chase.

Her stomach knotted painfully again, and for a second Gram’s tea and pills were forgotten as she stared at the far shore. Levi stood next to his distraught mother, who was talking to Alaina at the rail of the deck while keeping her gaze fastened to the activity in the lake. From this distance, Harper couldn’t read her expression but guessed that Chase’s mother felt the same numbing fear that pressed her heart. She glanced at the telescope, tempted to peer through, but decided she had to deal with Gram first.

For the first time in forever, she didn’t spy a single cat slinking through the parlor.

Not this morning.

This quiet morning.

She didn’t even hear the furnace rumbling or Gram’s soft snoring. Only the coffeepot gasping and gurgling in the kitchen. She peered in on her grandmother. Not moving, eyes closed, mouth open.

But...

She noticed Diablo crouching on the top of Gram’s desk.

The big gray cat, gold eyes alert, long tail twitching, watched as she set Gram’s tray on a side table and reached for the cord for the drapes. “Gram,” she said softly, hating to wake the old woman, but knowing if she didn’t, Matilda, when she arrived, would have a fit about Gram not getting her morning medication on time. So fine.

“Gram?” she forced out, though her gaze was riveted on Lake Twilight. Rain was falling again, drizzling down the window in thin rivulets. “It’s time to get up.” The window revealed the dismal day beyond. More boats had gathered on the lake and lights were flashing on the point, police cars visible in the spaces between the houses.

Harper’s throat closed.

Levi was still huddled with Cynthia. He was bareheaded in the rain, the tie of Cynthia’s robe flapping in the wind. They seemed oblivious to the weather.

She cleared her throat and forced her gaze from the window to the bed where her grandmother lay, red-haired Raggedy Ann and Raggedy Andy next to her. “Come on,” she said, and as the window hadn’t provided much light, she turned on a bedside lamp.

Gram didn’t move.

Didn’t so much as blink.

Or cough.

And her pallor was wan. Gray.

“Gram!” she cried, finally noticing that her grandmother’s chest wasn’t rising and falling, not one little bit. “Gram!”

Diablo leapt from the secretary and onto the bed.

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