Richard Laymon - The Lake

Leigh broke in. “And I’m sure glad it did. I can’t begin to thank you both…” She paused, still stroking Deana’s forehead, throwing Sheena a grateful smile.

Looking over at Mattie, she said, “So, what do we do now, Mats? Take Ava’s advice, fly out to Wisconsin? How about backup?”

“Don’t you worry about that, Leigh. FBI, local troopers, you name it, every fucker with a badge is about to descend on Lake Country as we speak. I’m shippin’ out later today.”

“And I’m coming with you,” Leigh said.

Mattie looked doubtful.

Warren met her eyes.

Quietly, he said, “I think Sheena should also go along.”

There was a pause while Mattie did a double take.

“You do? Why?”

“Apart from being pretty useful when it comes to one-to-one combat,” he winked across at Sheena, “she has a… vested interest.”

Mattie’s eyes narrowed.

“Whadyamean? A vested interest? ”

“I’m Tania,” Sheena said. “Mace’s sister.”

The lake looked pretty much the way she remembered it.

The same clear, bright air. Inlets, sandy coves, sunbathers stretched out like fish to dry. Dark stands of pine to the south. Water lapping gently around the pilings. The sputter of motorboats. Canoes, one or two rowboats…

Charlie’s was green, she remembered.

Could I forget…?

And loaded with baskets.

The sound of vacationers laughing, shouting to each other from the smartly painted piers, floated across the water. Bringing up an arm, shielding her eyes from the sun, Leigh saw them, the size of ants, from her side of the lake.

A motorboat with a water skier tagging behind, zipped by on a crest of white foam…

Leigh smiled softly, remembering how it had been, eighteen years ago. After the accident, Uncle Mike and Aunt Jenny moved camp. Away from Wahconda. They’d sold the cabin and summered in Colorado from then on.

Back in the eighties, they’d retired to Florida.

Carson’s Camp was under new management. All modernized and spruced up with a change of name—Lakeside Holiday Homes. In place of the old log cabins were smart new ones, in varnished pinewood, with porches, loungers, and barbecues out front.

Over to her right, Leigh could see the new cabins, shiny yellow in the sunlight. She saw a twist of smoke, caught a drift of grilled burgers hanging on the air. Nothing really changes, she thought with a smile.

Squinting into the sun, her eyes scanned the lake.

They picked out a green rowboat.

Her heart lurched. For a moment, she felt the same tense excitement of eighteen years ago. When she’d spotted Charlie out there. Charlie, bare-chested. Wearing his funny hat, with its high rounded crown, wide brim, red feathers tucked in the headband…

Charlie .

Waiting offshore.

Silent.

Unmoving.

Paddles resting in the oarlocks as he watched her showing off, posing in her white bikini…

She fingered her sea-thing, nestling in the cleft between her breasts. It felt so right to wear it again, here, at Wahconda. The place where once she’d truly believed it was her good-luck charm. Despite the way things had turned out. This trip, she’d slipped it around her neck, figuring it deserved another chance…

“Penny for them?”

Mattie was smiling at her.

“Mulling over a coupla things,” Leigh said, a rueful smile playing on her lips. “As you do. But that was then. Right now we got business to attend to.”

Mattie didn’t miss a beat.

“Nothin’ like old times for bringin’ on a case of the jitters, eh?”

“Tell me about it,” Leigh said with a wry smile.

Mattie studied the far end of the lake. “So those people back there at the Bayview—the gal, that your friend Cherry Dornay?”

Leigh nodded.

“Mmmm… Nice hair. And the guy?”

“Ben. Cherry’s brother. A good friend from way back when I was in San Diego having Deana. Yeah, he was a very good friend…”

She sighed.

Thinking about Ben.

Her knight in shining armor, she’d called him.

A bunch of kids strolled by. Wearing swimsuits, towels hanging around their necks. Laughing and joking on their way to the lake.

Leigh watched them pass.

Her lips curved in a smile. “Ben was a great guy. The best. But I walked, Mattie. Eighteen years ago—and again yesterday, back at the Bayview…”

“You have a lot on your mind right now, Leigh. And I get the feeling your Ben’d understand just why you walked out the door—when you’ve a chance to tell him, that is. D’ya think you might get it together again someday?”

“Maybe. In my own time. When I’m good and ready.”

They’d made reservations at the Lakeside. At the height of the summer season they were lucky to get two cabins—a double and a single. Sheena and Mattie chose the double. Leigh took the single.

They ate burgers and fries in the bright, airy restaurant. Red-check cloths on the tables. Red-check curtains at the windows. Mostly, this time of day, the place would be humming with activity; right now it was deserted, except for a young couple sitting quietly in the corner drinking coffee, a map spread out before them.

Sheena was uneasy, on edge. She played around with her food. Finally, pushing her plate aside, she said she needed a run. Promised she’d be back in half an hour.

Mattie watched Leigh’s face. She was looking strained, pale. The tension of the last few hours was beginning to take its toll. She hoped Leigh would be up to it when they came eye-to-eye with Mace.

If they came eye-to-eye with Mace.

Hope to God we do. Maybe we’re on a wild-goose chase.

Sorensson could’ve goofed.

Mace could be back there on Del Mar.

Stalking Warren.

Watching Deana.

Deana had pleaded to join Leigh and the others, but the doc advised a twenty-four-hour hospital checkup. That done, Warren was to look after her at his place. Mattie had arranged for a round-the-clock watch on them both.

Leigh assured Deana she’d be back in a couple of days. She hated going, but felt she needed to be on the spot to help Mattie catch Mace.

For the umpteenth time, she satisfied herself that Deana was in safe hands.

Until a small voice in her head whispered:

Oh yeah? Just how safe is safe?

Leigh felt cold and sick inside.

Nothing fazed Mace, she knew that.

If Deana or Warren was to be found, Mace’d do it…

Shit, Leigh. Pull yourself together—they’ll be okay. Go out there; do your thing. As in help Mattie nail Mace.

Between the three of them, she had every confidence they would.

Sheena alone was a one-woman army…

Mattie was also a pretty tough cookie.

And Ava assured us Mace’d be here.

Ava could be wrong, the voice piped up again.

No way, Leigh told herself. He is out here. Regressing. Reliving his childhood days. Thinking about God knows what.

She recalled Sorensson’s face, pale, intense. “Be convinced, Leigh,” she’d said. “Harrison’s moved on. The West Coast’s behind him now. He’s out there in Lake Country…”

“We get some sleep, then plan a course of action,” Mattie told them before Sheena left to go running. “We’re on a covert operation—and it’s a team effort. Leigh, if you think of anything, let us know. Such as likely places where Mace could be—and Sheena, you’re welcome to come up with your ideas. Any ‘feelings’ you may have…”

They parted.

With severe misgivings, Leigh went to her cabin. She turned on the shower and undressed. Easing out a little as she stepped under the shower, soaping herself, feeling the warm water sluice her body. It felt good and, for a short while, relaxing.