Page 95 of It Happened on the Lake

“And you’re a snot-nosed little shit,” Chase said, tossing aside his Fudgsicle stick before tackling his younger brother. He wrestled Levi to the ground and forced him to say “Uncle,” before finally letting him up.

Tonight, after his initial warning growl, the dog was quiet.

Rand slipped inside and was about to hurry upstairs when he heard voices on the dock and headed to the kitchen. Peering through the window, he saw Chase near the back door. Evan, tossing his dark hair from his eyes, was just stepping onto the deck.

“You okay?” Chase asked as Rand walked onto the deck, closing the door behind him.

“Yeah. Fine.” Rand wasn’t sure he was okay at all, but he wasn’t going to admit to being scared shitless.

His friends were huddled near the boat slip. Their jacket collars were turned up against the mist, their faces barely visible in the gaseous light cast from the street lamp at the front of the house.

“He had you, though, didn’t he? That old chrome dome had you,” Chase said in low tones.

Evan, his cheeks still flushed, added, “We saw it all go down.”

“I know,” Rand agreed.

Chase was amped up. Agitated. His eyes wide. “I thought he was gonna kill you.”

“Me, too,” Rand said. “But he didn’t.”

“That’s cuz of me and Evan, we got him good! Did you see his face when that egg smacked into him?” Chase asked, laughing at the image. “Egg dripping down his nose. I thought he was gonna have a heart attack.”

“Or shit himself.” Evan let out a nervous chuckle.

Rand was nodding. “You saved my life.”

“Hell yeah, we did.” Chase clapped Evan on the back.

Rand nodded. “I owe you.”

Chase said, “I’ll remember that.”

“Do.”

“You know you’re lucky he didn’t recognize you,” Evan cut in, and his gaze slid across the lake to the island, his face suddenly sober. “Do you have any idea who that guy is?”

Rand felt a new dread. Hadn’t his attacker seemed faintly familiar? “No.”

Chase said, “Martin Alexander.”

Oh. No. “Craig’s dad?” Rand whispered, his stomach sinking.

“Yeah, and he’s a mean son of a bitch,” Evan put in. “Beats the crap out of Craig. I know. I’ve seen it. He’s got a thick black belt that he whips out of his pants whenever Craig messes up.”

“Which is a lot,” Chase added.

Rand couldn’t believe his bad luck. Craig Alexander was a year younger than he but already bigger and tougher, just like his old man.

Evan was saying, “I’m lucky he didn’t see me cuz he works for my grandma, at the house on the lake.”

“Heknowsyou?”

“Yeah. Kinda. He’s living on the island now. With Craig. There’s like this apartment in the attic over the garage, and they moved in when Craig’s mom took off.”

“Oh crap,” Rand said. He knew that Evan and Harper lived at the gatehouse, a cottage near the bridge to the island. But not all the time. Sometimes they spent weeks or months livingonthe island in that massive house with their grandmother.

“Don’t worry,” Evan told him. “He didn’t see me. Or Chase. Just you. And even then it was pretty dark.” He glanced across the lake. “Look, I gotta go. I have to ride all the way around the lake and make sure that Harper tells my folks that she saw me leave to go trick or treating.”

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