Page 42 of The Lake Escape
Maybe it’s the crisis, but I’m protective of these little rug rats all of a sudden. I’m like an undercover cop who’s gotten too close to the subject of an investigation.
Eventually Taylor turns off the road, and we bump along a rocky lane. It’s very shady. With the window down, the change in the air brings a sudden coolness to my skin. We don’t drive far down this uneven route before Taylor pulls over abruptly, coming to a hard stop. “We’re here,” she says.
We get out at the same time and I follow Taylor toward a clearing. Soon we’re surrounded by a wide expanse of tall, lush green grass dotted with wildflowers. The sun beams down on us with few trees to offer shade.
What stands out to me most is the lopsided rectangle of recently dug-up earth about the size of a tennis court. Sprigs of vegetation already pop up through the rocky soil. By this time next year, it’ll be hard to tell the land here had ever been excavated. Flapping in a nearby tree is a strip of yellow plastic that catches my eye. It looks like the tail of some kid’s kite caught in the branches. As I get closer, I make out black lettering printed on the plastic strip spelling out C-A-U. I’m not a huge fan ofWheel of Fortune,but if I had to buy a vowel, it would be an I or an O to finish the word: CAUTION.
Which is exactly how I’m approaching the dug-up earth. My steps are purposeful to avoid trampling over potential evidence.
“What is this place?” I ask, my voice slightly hitched. I think I know the answer. It’s beautiful here, a grand vista overlooking a lush valley below, but a touch of melancholy hangs in the air.
A wicked gleam springs to Taylor’s eyes. “This,” she says, her dark smile spreading, “is the scene of the crime.”
“The bones?” I whisper, feeling both confident and afraid that I’m right.
Taylor confirms with a nod. “Yup. This was going to be somebody’s home. They were going to widen the road and build a four-bedroom house, until their contractor dug up a body. Now it’s just been sitting here since the discovery. Seems like the owner has no interest in continuing to build on a grave site—bad feng shui, or something.”
A shot of fear burns down my spine. That skull was somebody’s somebody.
“Do the police know anything?” I ask as a shiver ripples through me.
Taylor answers with a shrug. “I mean, there’s no positive ID on the remains yet, not that I’ve heard.”
“So we don’t know—”
“If it’s connected to the vanishings?” Taylor asks, finishing my thought. “No. I guess it could be anybody—there are more missing people in this state than just the two women from Lake Timmeny.”
This is my first time visiting anactualcrime scene, and I’m all kinds of conflicted. When it’s a podcast, it’s like getting caught up in a story. But this feels real and deeply personal. The sunshine can’t warm me. It’s as if the smell of decay is somehow caught in the air and trapped in the sodden earth. Even though the bones are long gone, their presence surrounds us.
I feel I shouldn’t speak, that this should be a place of quiet reverence and solemn contemplation, but I need to know more.
“Why did you bring me here?” I ask, wondering if Taylor notices the crack in my voice.
“You told me you’re a true crime fanatic. Well, here’s a true crime for you.”
“I think we might have another back at the house,” I say. “There’s something super strange about Fiona’s disappearance. I wonder if the divers have found anything yet. God, I hope not, but—”
“I’m sure they’ve got nothing,” Taylor says. “No Lake Timmeny vanishing has ever been solved that quickly.”
I eye Taylor with uneasy suspicion. “You’re not thinking we should go all Scooby-Doo on this? I enjoy podcasts, but that doesn’t make me an expert in solving crimes.”
“Don’t sell yourself short.” Taylor pats my shoulder encouragingly. “I bet you know way more than you think.”
The compliment makes me self-conscious. “I mean yeah, sure, I knowsomethings. You have to secure the crime scene, identify all people present, and cordon off the area. Then you start talking to witnesses. It’s a whole process.” My gaze flickers to the piece of yellow caution tape still trapped in a tree branch. In my mind, I can see how the early stages of this investigation might have played out.
Taylor’s face lights up. “See, you know plenty.”
“But I don’t have the bones, any physical evidence, or the case files… I have no idea how to do anything useful.”
“I don’t want you to workthiscase, Izzy,” Taylor explains. “I brought you here in the hope that I’d inspire you to work a different one for me.”
I squint in confusion. “What then?”
“I need to know the truth about Lucas. I have to know if he did something to Fiona.”
My face burns hot. “Lucas?” I whisper.
“Yes,” says Taylor. “If you had asked me last year, I’d have said I knew everything there was to know about Lucas Sullivan, but now… my head is spinning, and I don’t know what to think.”
