The Lake

by Richard Laymon

  God, he looks so weird. What’s up with him?

  Seems like he’s having a tough time with his words, too. He was stumbling around, trying to find the right ones.

  Not much like the Mace she’d known up to now.

  Where had his control gone? One thing about Mace. He was always so in control. Of himself and situations.

  It was weird, the way he was now.

  “Er…Look, Deana,” he said thickly. “I’m going. Right? I wasn’t here, right? No…no need to tell Leigh…I’ll tell her myself. Later…”

  “You bastard. You come in here spying on me, and now you tell me to keep my mouth shut?”

  “About the size of it, Deana. Stay mum—and so will I.”

  Suddenly, he was getting more lucid by the minute.

  The old Mace.

  The one she hated so much.

  Deana held her breath. Tried to calm down. Wouldn’t do to get him riled up. Way he’d looked a few moments ago, he might just turn on her…

  But she had to know exactly what he meant.

  “Whatdya mean—and so will you?”

  “We both have our little secrets, honey. Don’t we? Like you sneaking back into the house around two-thirty a.m. You tell your mom about that, did ya? Or your visits to that house with the two redwoods in front?”

  She picked up her hairbrush from the dresser, and he backed off.

  “Okay. Okay. I’m going. Sorry for coming on to you like that. It’s just…”

  He faltered. Looking bewildered again.

  “It’s just what?” prompted Deana.

  Don’t think I’m gonna be able to handle him like this. God, Mom, where are you, for chrissake?

  This was a different Mace, all right.

  An iffy Mace.

  “Nothin’. Nothin’ at all,” he muttered.

  His voice was low. She could scarcely hear it. Like he was talking to himself.

  He turned and made for the door.

  Then stopped dead.

  They’d both heard the same thing. The muffled sound of an engine; a car pulling up outside.

  The sound of a door slamming shut.

  Mom.

  Thank God.

  Mace turned. Put a finger to his lips.

  As he looked across at her, he was back to normal. All business. Fierce. Intense. In control.

  The old Mace.

  “Ssshh. I’m warning you, Deana.”

  The finger sliced across his throat.

  Deana held still.

  She watched him go.

  What if Mom found her like this, half-dressed—with Mace hurrying down the hallway? She’s gonna think something fishy’s going on.

  Shit. This had to happen tonight, of all nights!

  The night Warren was coming to dinner.

  The night when she’d prayed everything’d go according to plan.

  What the fuck was up with Mace, anyway?

  He hadn’t looked as if he were about to rape her.

  He’d just stared in that awful creepy sort of way.

  Okay. He knew about my sneaking in at two-thirty. But how did he know I’d visited a house with two redwoods in front?

  Did he know about Warren?

  The thought that he did made shivers run up and down her spine.

  How much does the bastard really know?

  She heard voices.

  Mom saying, “Why hello, Mace. Didn’t expect to see you today…”

  “Courtesy call, Leigh. See how you both are, an’ all.”

  “My, this is a real treat. So soon after…” Mom’s voice softened into a murmur.

  Silence. More murmurs…

  Kissing.

  How could she?

  But of course, she doesn’t know yet.

  About Mace’s surprise visit to her darling daughter.

  And I can’t tell you about it, Mom.

  Can’t warn you about Mace.

  Christ, Mom. He’s real bad news, and I can’t tell you. Because he’s blackmailing me!

  Deana felt like throwing up. Mace could sneak in, spy on her, scare the shit outa her, and then cozy up to Mom like he meant it.

  Christ, what a crud!

  Deana was angry. And scared. She’d seen a whole different Mace back there. And it was not a pretty sight.

  It sure was spooky, the way he’d gaped at her.

  Not exactly like he wanted to rape her, either.

  More like he’d never seen a woman half-naked before.

  Which is a load of bullshit.

  She knew that.

  Mace must’ve had scores of women.

  Guys like him take women, use ’em, and throw ’em away…

  God. Mom!

  Coming this way.

  Deana straightened her robe, flung her hair over her shoulder, and busied herself putting the pantsuit back in the wardrobe.

  “Hi there, honey!”

  Mom put her head around the door.

  “Hi yourself, Mom. Just deciding what to wear tonight.”

  “Yeah. I bet. Take you all afternoon?”

  “Something like that…”

  “Good of Mace to call on us like that. Although he did know I was working all day. I’ve really spent too much time out of the restaurant lately. Had a lot of catching up to do: ordering, consulting with Carlo…all of that. Carlo’s doing a good job, too. Not like Nelson, of course, but…

  “You okay, honey?”

  “Why, sure, Mom. Just want to make a good impression tonight, is all. What d’ya think about my final choice?”

  She held up the soft jersey top and denim skirt.

  “You look great in all your things, dear. I’m sure Warren will think so, too.”

  She looked at her wristwatch.

  “Must fly, darling. I’ll leave you to it…Must go have a shower; smarten myself up a little, too.”

  Leigh stepped into the hallway.

  As ever, Deana thought, watching her go, Mom looks wonderful.

  She paused. Waiting for Mom to say something about Mace.

  Like, how’d he get in?

  Or, did you let him in, honey?

  Dressed, or should we say undressed, like that?

  Or maybe Mace has his own key?

  Mom wouldn’t have given him a house key so soon in their relationship.

  Would she?

  Mom and Mace had been an item for less than two weeks…That’s all. She wouldn’t give him his own key.

  But she is pretty well struck on him.

  Mom poked her head around the door.

  “Mace been here long, honey?”

  Here it comes.

  Darling daughter does the dirty on Mom.

  Again.

  “Five, ten minutes, is all.”

  “Good thing you were around to let him in.”

  “Yeah.”

  Bull’s-eye. The twenty-four-thousand-dollar question answered in one go.

  Mace hasn’t got a key.

  Not yet.

  “If I’m in the shower when Tony calls with the food and wine, see to him, will you, darling?”

  “Sure, Mom. Leave it with me. Mace gone?”

  “Yep. Duty calls, he said. Asked him to join us, but he said he’d gotta ride.”

  Gotta ride!

  Huh. I’ll bet.

  She frowned.

  Just what was Mace up to? He’d sure started to act strange. Not his usual self.

  Showing a side she and Mom hadn’t seen yet.

  Don’t want to see it anymore, either.

  Obviously, Mom thinks he’s okay.

  And she wouldn’t tolerate a weirdo.

  Would she?

  She’d gone along with Nelson. And he was a weirdo.

  But his meals were something else. That’s what he was there for—to cook good meals. Mom couldn’t really complain about him.

  Look what happened when she did…

  What would have happened if she hadn’t?

  Christ! This is leading nowhere fas
t.

  Gotta get ready.

  Warren’ll be here before I’m dressed, at this rate.

  She listened to Mom splashing in the shower.

  Humming to herself.

  Happy.

  Not knowing how spooky Mace could be.

  What’d happen if I told her about him sneaking up on me? How do you tell your mom her boyfriend’s a Peeping Tom? That he gets off staring at your half-naked daughter?

  Come to think about it how the hell did he sneak up on me?

  Mom hadn’t given him a key.

  So how’d he do it?

  Get in through the window?

  What window? All their windows were intruder-proof. They opened only so far. And no farther.

  He could have stolen a key.

  The spare one Mom left under the magnolia bush by the front stoop?

  Maybe he was simply being what he was. A good cop.

  He’d made an impression of the key under the bush, and had another one made, Deana thought.

  Intruders do that all the time.

  She’d read about how they did it.

  Lesson One: Don’t leave your house key under the magnolia bush.

  Wonderful.

  Mace going around with a key to our house!

  Deana’s mouth went dry. Her heart leapt to her throat.

  Mace can enter our home whenever he feels like it!

  Whenever he wants to scare the pants offa me.

  Our home isn’t safe anymore.

  Deana dressed carefully. She brushed her hair and put on her makeup. But her heart wasn’t in it.

  All she could think about was Mace.

  Creeping into her room again.

  When Mom was out and she was all alone.

  FORTY-FOUR

  Deana was setting place mats on the dinner table when the doorbell rang. It echoed through the hallway.

  She froze.

  It has to be Warren—but how can I be sure?

  Could be Mace!

  Nah. Mace wouldn’t return so soon after spying on me. Would he?

  That’s just the kinda awful thing he would do.

  She heard Mom go to the door.

  Open it.

  She was talking, her tone bright and friendly.

  A low voice, interspersed with Mom’s highs, indicated an animated conversation was taking place.

  Whoever it was, was standing in the hallway.

  She heard Warren’s voice and huffed a sigh of relief. She raced through the living room into the hallway.

  “Hi, Warren. You two met, I see!”

  Mom was shaking Warren’s hand. She looked flushed and bright-eyed—as she always did with guests. That was the nice thing about Mom. She knew how to make people feel at home.

  “Hi there, Deana. Your sister was just making me welcome.”

  He winked at Deana.

  Mom laughed, flushed some more, and went off into the kitchen.

  They were alone.

  Warren eyed Deana approvingly. “My,” he said. “You look stunning tonight.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “You should wear blue more often. Much more becoming than black.”

  Deana grinned. She put a finger to her lips. “Don’t you dare…”

  Warren smiled and crossed his heart.

  “Mum’s the word,” he mouthed.

  Deana led him to the living room. She motioned for him to sit on the sofa.

  “Dinner isn’t quite ready yet,” she said. “Care for a drink?”

  “Mmmm. Whatever you’re having would be great!”

  Warren looked around, taking stock of the room.

  As if he hadn’t seen it before.

  “Fabulous view you have over there.” He nodded in the direction of the glass wall.

  “Yeah. That’s what everyone says. White wine?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Warren said, smiling at her.

  She went to the kitchen and returned with two glasses of Chablis on a serving tray.

  He’s a handsome guy, she thought, watching him take his glass. In a clean-cut kind of way. Dark slicked hair, gray suit, white shirt. A club tie of some sort.

  Underneath all that, she sensed his taut, well-honed body. A squirm of excitement stirred between her legs.

  Wondering how he’d look bare-ass naked.

  “So you own a bookstore, Warren?” Mom said over dinner.

  “That I do. For my sins.” Mom looked at him inquiringly. He laughed. “Sorry—a figure of speech! I love my work, Ms. West…”

  “Leigh, please,” Mom said with a smile. “Makes life a lot simpler.”

  “Leigh. Nice name, if I may say so.”

  Deana glared at him.

  Warren smiled back, sending her a sly wink at the same time.

  I know he’s just being friendly, she thought. And Mom does have this effect on people. I should be used to it by now.

  But she did feel a little on edge.

  It’s that asshole Mace, she decided.

  Suddenly appearing like that.

  Scaring the pants offa me.

  Well, not quite.

  But he sure had me spooked there for a while.

  What had really spooked her, though, was the way Mace had looked.

  Zoned out.

  Unsure.

  As if he’d been really sorry about going into her room like that.

  She stole a glance at Mom. She looked happy enough. Perhaps she hadn’t ever seen Mace as I saw him this afternoon.

  Maybe I should let it stay that way…

  Deana wanted to forget, but found she couldn’t. Mace coming at her like that was something that worried her a lot.

  Warren and Mom were talking books. How Mom liked historical novels and biographies; she’d been searching for something on Bob Dylan. Warren said he’d look out for this really good one he’d heard about.

  “Wonderful meal, Leigh,” Warren said, wiping his lips on his napkin.

  “Thanks, Warren. Glad you enjoyed it. Duck à l’orange prepared this way is a Bayview special. Goes down well with the clientele.”

  “Mom,” Deana put in. “Would you mind awfully if Warren and I went for a drive somewhere?”

  Leigh’s face paled slightly.

  Watching her, Deana almost changed her mind about going for a drive with Warren.

  She’s remembering the night of the family party. When Allan and I left her to it with Gran and Pops.

  “Mom. We’ll be back in an hour or so—won’t we, Warren?”

  “Er, yes, of course. Would you mind, Leigh? I always hate to eat and run. But perhaps you’d both do me the honor of dining at my place sometime soon?”

  Leigh smiled at Deana. “Sure,” she said. “That would be wonderful, wouldn’t it, darling?”

  “Yes, Mom. It would.”

  After they left, Leigh cleared away the dishes, piling them up, intending to wash them later. She took out a bottle of Chablis from the fridge and poured herself a glassful.

  Strolling back to the living room, her mind was full of Deana and Warren. Mmmm. She liked Warren. He seemed mature and sensible; probably a safe date is what Deana needs right now. After all our problems, she could do with some relaxation…

  She switched on the TV.

  Maybe I should call Mace…

  Or maybe I should take some time out by myself. Relax. Chill out.

  Like an irritating insect, the tub scenario still lurked in a corner of her mind.

  Afterward, though, Mace had made up for it.

  They really were good for each other.

  She was sure of that.

  Her eyes followed the flickering screen, not really seeing what was there. She came to, focusing on David Letterman interviewing some celeb from Friends…

  Leigh made a face. Reflecting that she must be the only person on the planet who wasn’t into Friends.

  There must be something else worth looking at…

  She played around on the remote, finally settling on an old Steve M
cQueen movie. Smiling to herself, she remembered she’d had this humongous crush on Steve McQueen after watching The Great Escape.

  Steve on his motorbike…

  Ultra-sexy.

  Taking another sip of Chablis, she watched the screen some more. Not really understanding, now, why she’d been so over the moon about dear old Steve.

  Her eyes strayed to the framed photographs on the TV table.

  Something odd there…

  One was missing.

  The picture of Deana wearing her first bikini.

  Showing off. Posing on a rock, her dark hair blowing in the breeze, the sea rolling in behind her.

  Leigh remembered that day down at Point Reyes Beach. The first time she’d realized Deana had suddenly become a woman…

  The same day Deana had reminded her of Charlie.

  There’d been something about her smile. That small cleft in her chin. The way she stood there. At one with the elements.

  Nature girl, Leigh had called her.

  Now the photograph was gone.

  Perhaps Deana gave it to Warren as a keepsake.

  I’ll ask her later.

  Leigh felt a twinge of regret.

  That photo had been a good one of Deana.

  One of her favorites…

  FORTY-FIVE

  Friday, July 16

  Lisa Bonetti was eighteen years of age. She had long dark hair, and a tall, athletic build. She played tennis, enjoyed swimming, and was a hotshot at archery.

  Due to go to UCSC in the fall, Lisa was the apple, as they say, of her father’s eye.

  At 3:01 she was on her way to Kathy’s Diner on Main Street, to meet her friend Margy for coffee and donuts. She’d missed out on lunch, so she was looking forward to a couple of Kathy’s fresh apple donuts. She had no idea she was being followed.

  The black car cruised by a couple of times then drew up alongside as she hurried along the sidewalk.

  “Miss!”

  The black window slid down; an elbow, then a man’s face appeared. The man looked both serious and concerned. He glanced up, nodding briefly.

  “Lisa Bonetti? I’m Detective Joe Napier, San Jose PD.” The man flashed police ID at her and returned it to the inside pocket of his leather jacket.

  He leaned across the passenger seat and swung open the far-side door.

  “Ms. Bonetti, your father’s in Cedar Heights. Had a near-fatal heart attack around two this afternoon. News came through as I was going off my shift. Chief asked me to drive you over to see him.”

  The girl paled. She frowned slightly.