Page 39 of It Happened on the Lake

“Time doesn’t stand still.”

“Doesn’t it?” She looked at him hard then. “Maybe not for you.”

What was this? “Not for anyone.” He didn’t add that years ago she had moved on pretty quickly. Jetting out of Almsville before she even graduated and marrying someone soon after in what he assumed was a whirlwind romance.

“If you say so.” She met his gaze. “So how’s your mom?” she asked, and her face softened with worry. “If Rand knew anything, he wouldn’t say.”

Levi walked to the end of the bed. “Not good.”

“I didn’t think so.” She turned in the chair to face him full on. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.”

“So, let me guess. You’re here because you want to know what happened last night, what I was doing on the lake, right?” Before he could answer, she added, “It’s no big mystery, Levi. I just got home, noticed a fire on a boat in the lake.” She went on to tell him about calling for help, then swimming to the middle of the lake in hopes of helping his mother. She told him how she’d begged Cynthia to abandon the boat, to save herself, to jump into the water. “I kept yelling for her to jump, but she was frozen. The boat started sinking, and it was too late. Thank God the police showed up.” She rubbed her upper arms, as if she was still feeling the cold of the lake water.

“What was she doing out there?” he asked.

“As if I have any clue,” she said, almost to herself, then raised her eyes to his. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“I have no idea.” Who knew what went through the fragile mind of his mother? Certainly not he. “I guess I should thank you for saving her life.”

“Yes.” She gave a curt nod, her bedraggled ponytail bobbing with the jerk of her head. “You should.”

He hesitated half a beat and couldn’t help but think again that it might have been better for Cynthia Hunt to have passed last night, that her future was grim at best and unthinkably pain-riddled at worst. “Well, okay. Thanks,” he said tightly, the word tasting bitter on his tongue. Yes, Harper had saved his mother, calling 9-1-1 when she spied Cynthia on the boat, but aside from his mother’s horrendous condition, there were other reasons he would never forgive her. If Chase had never met her . . . Shit, ifhehimself had never met her, things would have turned out differently.

But they hadn’t.

He jammed his hands into his pockets. “So how about you . . . are you okay?”

She slid him a glance, then obviously lied. “I’m fine. A few cuts and bruises. Nothing serious. They just brought me in to check me out.” And then she paused, looked him up and down. “Do you still live in Almsville? I thought you went away to school and were in the service or something.”

“Or something.” He didn’t add that he’d been in Naval Intelligence and, once he’d gotten out of the service, worked for the FBI. And now . . . a private citizen with an investigative firm in Portland. “I’ve got a place across the river, in Sellwood. An apartment. But I’d already decided to move back to the house on Fox Point because it was obvious Mom wouldn’t be back.” He cleared his throat. “She’s been at Serenity Acres for a while now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. A couple of falls. Sprained ankle and broken wrist.” He rubbed the back of his neck and didn’t really know how much to confide. That his mother hadn’t always recognized him? That she’d left the stove on? That she wasn’t eating right and had started to wander? “It’s been better for her.”

“So how about you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Married?”

“Was. It didn’t take.” He didn’t feel like explaining. Two agents with different careers, different personal goals. One who survived. One who didn’t. “So now I work in Sellwood. Private investigator. It’s a long story.”

“I’d listen.”

But as he looked at her, he felt something inside of him set off warning bells in his brain, a gut instinct he’d honed over the years. And what was the old saying? Once bitten, twice shy?

“Maybe some other time.”

“Kids?” she asked, and he shook his head. “What about you? You’re married, right?”

“Was.” She grinned, and he remembered how infectious her smile could be. “It didn’t take.”

“Kids?”

Her smile seemed to freeze. “Yes. One. A daughter. She’s—she’s in college now.”

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