Page 32 of Whispers of the Lake

“A little. She was more confused, if anything. But she left. That was the only day I saw her.” Selma tried to smile but was battling it with a frown.

“Is there something else, Mrs. Abbot?”

The kitchen fell silent as she kept smoothing the napkin out and avoiding my eyes.

I leaned forward and placed a hand on top of hers to stop the action. “Mrs. Abbot?”

She tilted her chin, eyes connecting with mine. “He called her a whore,” she whispered.

My heart slowed in rhythm. “Your husband?”

“Yes. When she left, he came back to me and told me to never invite awhorein his house again.”

Good grief. Griffin sounded like a straight up asshole. I’d have never called Eve that. It was too harsh a term. But she did have a high body count. She took sex wherever she could get it. It worried me how often she gave herself away to random men. Men she knew nothing about. Men who could’ve carried sexually transmitted diseases.

“On the same day I saw her, I was sitting on the back porch knitting. It was getting darker, had to be around dusk. But I heard a scream or a screech of some sort across the way.”

“Across the lake?” I asked, my chest tightening.

“Yes. But I thought it was just kids being kids, you know? Lots of young kids rent that cottage out and make use of the lake.”

“I don’t think so. Eve was supposedly by herself.” I studied the tea that I still hadn’t taken a drink of. “Was Griffin home with you?”

“Yes.” She bobbed her head. “He heard it too. When he did, he insisted that we needed to get in the house.”

“So, he was spooked by the scream?”

“Somewhat. I was too, but only when I saw him locking all the doors and windows.” Selma’s lips pursed as she looked past me and at the door.Again. “When I think about it now, the scream didn’t sound like a joyous one. It sounded fearful. And it was definitely coming from a woman.”

I really hoped it wasn’t Eve. If that were the case, the Reeds would have heard it too. I needed to ask them about it. Maybe something had happened. Perhaps Eve had hurt herself. There was a possibility she could’ve slipped and fell into the lake and now her body was in there somewhere. My heart thumped harder as I thought about all the horrible things that could have happened to her. I started to ask something else, but I heard a car door shut in the distance.

Selma let out a sharp gasp and stood so quickly, she knocked over her teacup. She rushed out of the kitchen to peer out the window in the living room. “Oh no. He’s home.” She twisted around with wide, panicked eyes. “You have to go, dear. I’m so sorry, but you have to go. He can’t know you were here.”

“Oh—um, okay.” I stood and pushed my chair in as she took my full teacup and dumped the amber liquid down the drain. “Go through the back door, if you will. I—I’m so sorry. I just don’t want him to see you. He has his moods, my Griffin. He’s a good man, but he’s just . . .please. Go.”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” I unlocked her back door and peeled it open.

She gave me a half-hearted smile before placing the teacup on a drying rack and then grabbing a rag to clean her spilled drink. I closed the door behind me and rushed across their back patio, taking the stairs down and rounding the house.

There was a window on the right side. From there, I could see a man entering the house. I paused and hid behind a tree to see the man who was likely tormenting his wife. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a slight pot belly. He snatched off his hat and tossed it on a table. A tool bag hung from a strap on his shoulder, and he had a plastic bag in his left hand. It looked like a case of beer was inside it. He peered around the space before walking deeper into the house.

One of their windows must’ve been open because I heard a deep voice ask, “Why is the back door unlocked?”

I could hear Selma providing a response, but it wasn’t clear enough. The man spoke again after a brief pause. “I don’t like this dress on you, Selm. You know that. Go on and change, then hurry up and get lunch started. Gettin’ hungry.”

I took that as my cue to get the fuck up out of there. I ventured through the woods and didn’t slow down, even as I passed Eddie’s house. I power walked my way ahead, relieved when the side of Twilight Oaks appeared. I wish I could say that talk with Selma brought me relief. Instead, it left me feeling even more confused . . . and afraid.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“Rose. Come.”

I walked along the grass barefoot, the cool dampness on my soles. The sky was hazy, a thick layer of fog hovering over the lake. From here, the water appeared black, like it’d swallowed all the shadows around it. Behind me, Twilight Oaks was pitch-black. No lights on inside or out.

Cobwebs clung to the exterior.

The flowers were dead.

The floorboards creaked quietly.

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