Page 43 of It Happened on the Lake

“The island was never safe with those Alexanders living there. Probably still isn’t. Who knows? And that’s a helluva big place. It’s too much for you. You should sell it.”

“I said, ‘enough,’” Marcia warned her husband. “And Harper doesn’t need to sell the island.”

“Why not? It’s a damned albatross around her neck! It would take years and hundreds of thousands of dollars, maybe millions, to fix it up.”

“You don’t know that,” Marcia said. “Now sit up and I’ll adjust your pillows.” He obliged and Marcia straightened the linens. “No more arguing,” she ordered.

For once, Harper agreed with her stepmother, wanting the argument to end before it exploded into an out-and-out shouting match. “Let’s just deal with the here-and-now, Dad. Craig’s an adult, Beth’s husband, he’s got his own business and still volunteers with the fire department. Maybe we should give him a break.”

“You give someone a break and you could end up falling into the crack.” He scowled, turning away from the window. “Where the hell is my medication?”

“Coming,” Marcia said.

“I should get going,” Harper said. “You feel better, Dad.”

“And you don’t trust Craig Alexander or his wife. She’s a real estate agent now. A crafty one. Part of the ‘million dollar club’ or whatever. A little on the shady side, if you ask me.”

Harper held up one hand. “Dad—”

“You just wait. I bet you she’s gonna want to wangle a listing for the island from you, gonna want you to sell the whole kit and kaboodle now that it’s yours. Probably gonna insist that her husband do the work to fix it up for the market.” The lines around the edges of Bruce’s mouth deepened, and he picked at the tape holding his IV in place on his wrist. “Don’t forget, I was in the business for years. Still have my license. If you were going to sell, I could do it for you. Much less commission.” He scratched at the stubble on his chin. “I know what she’s up to.”

“Beth was my best friend.”

“And a schemer,” her dad said. “Always had her eye on the prize.” He pointed a finger at her. “You be careful, Harper. You’re a rich woman now. Everyone, and I mean everyone, will be gunning for you. Offering you sweet deals and new ideas and ways to invest your money. And those are the clever ones. Others will flat out ask you for loans.” He pointed a finger at her, stretching his IV line. “That’s the problem with money, Harper. When you have it, everybody else wants it. So be cautious, I mean it. You can’t trust anyone.”

Chapter 12

As promised, Beth was waiting for her in the lobby.

“Harper!” she cried and half ran across the tiled floor, her high heels clicking rapidly. Beth was as ebullient as ever. Her brown hair had been permed and feathered around her face, bangs nearly touching her eyes. She’d put on a few pounds since high school but was still on the petite side, just had a few more curves. “It’s so, so good to see you.” She gave Harper a bear hug before taking a step back. “What’s this?” She motioned up and down with one finger to indicate the blue scrubs Harper was wearing. “Wait a second. Don’t tell me. You’re interviewing for a job here?” she joked. “Either as a patient,” she motioned to the bandages on Harper’s face, “or a nurse?”

“Yeah, right.”

“You’re kind of a female Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde all in one.”

“Very funny.”

“Seriously, it would make agreatHalloween costume. ’Tis the season, you know.”

“If you say so.”

“Just kidding! How are you feeling?” She eyed the bandages on Harper’s face. “Not all that great, I bet.”

“Been better.”

“But you’ll be okay?”

She wondered. “Loaded question.”

They were walking out the door.

“I’m over there.” Beth pointed to the spot where she’d double-parked in a zone where the curb was painted red and a sign warned against parking. “Let me take that.” She grabbed the plastic bag from Harper and hurried around the front of her little BMW to slide behind the wheel.

Harper slipped into the passenger seat. Beth tossed her bag into the back just as a security guard hustled out of the main doors. He was jogging fast, raising a hand at them.

“Oops.” With the radio blaring, Beth peeled out, cutting off a transport van and shooting for the exit of the parking lot.

“Whoa!” Harper said, buckling her seat belt quickly. “Some things never change.” Beth, in high school, had been a lead-foot and had the speeding tickets to prove it.

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