The Secrets of Lake Road: A Novel

by Karen Katchur

  “Kevin, wait.” She chased after him, catching up to him a third of the way across the parking lot. She grabbed his arm and spun him around. “Stop,” she said. “Please.”

  “Why, Jo? Why should I bother?”

  Her face was flushed, and she had that crease between her eyebrows she got whenever she was angry. But there was something else in her eyes, a flame he recognized.

  “Who are you afraid is going to see us together?” He glanced at the lake. A spotlight from a lone fishing boat drifted across the water, the beam reaching as far as the parking lot, the light crossing them at the knees. It was as though he was reliving the nightmare for the second time. Back then he had to stay away from her to protect her, to protect their secret. But things were different now. The little girl drowning had nothing to do with them, and yet it had everything to do with them. If it weren’t for the girl, they never would’ve found those bones. He grabbed Jo’s arms and pulled her to him.

  “Billy’s dead, Jo,” he said. “And you’re my wife. My wife.” He couldn’t help himself; he kissed her again, hard, smashing her nose and scraping her teeth with his.

  She struggled, twisting her shoulders, trying to free her arms. The more she fought, the more aroused he became. He pulled her closer, her breasts pressed against his chest. He forced his leg between her thighs. She bit his lip.

  The sudden pain made him loosen his grip. She punched his chest with her fists and shoved and pushed him until their bodies separated. They both were breathing hard, staring at each other.

  “Asshole.” She lunged at him, knocking him in the shoulder.

  He didn’t fight back. They had been here before. They had played this game before. Instead he brought his hand to his bottom lip, his fingers coming away bloody.

  By the time he looked up again, she was on him. She grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him as hungrily as he had kissed her. He grasped the back of her neck and placed his hand on her low back, crushing her to him. She reached between his legs.

  “Oh God,” he moaned.

  They stumbled to the edge of the parking lot, kissing and fumbling with their clothes. To hell if anyone was watching. He wanted someone to see him have her. He lifted her up and pinned her against the thick trunk of an old maple tree. He clutched a handful of her hair and yanked her head back, kissing and biting her throat. She wrapped her legs around his waist, opening herself wide for him. He pushed deep inside of her, letting her take him to a place only she could take him.

  They clung to each other, their bodies slick and warm. His legs felt weak with exhaustion. She sobbed against his chest. He was spent, used, wondering how their love brought out the best and worst in him, how something so sweet could taste like poison.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Caroline looked over her shoulder not once but continuously. The light of the moon cut through the trees, distorting the shadows of branches on the ground. The lake water looked as dark as pitch, like a sharp, shimmering black hole. She had never been out this late at night, and as if she wasn’t paranoid enough, even the Pavilion looked ominous, old and abandoned.

  She wound her way to the water’s edge, creeping past lakefront cabins, pausing to listen for any sounds. The horse and the legend lurked in the corners of her mind, making the hairs on the back of her neck bristle. She reached Adam’s place and slipped around back, stopping in front of his bedroom window. She tried not to think about what would happen if she got caught and tapped on the glass.

  “Adam,” she whispered. Tap. Tap. Tap. “Wake up.” She strained to listen for any sounds coming from inside. Nothing. “Adam,” she said a little louder. Tap. Tap. Tap. A rustling came from in the room. The curtains parted, and Adam pressed his nose against the glass, trying to see outside. She stood back a few inches and waved.

  “Caroline? Is that you?”

  “Yeah, open up.”

  He pushed the window up. She could just make out his big ears.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “Get dressed. I need your help,” she whispered. “And be quiet.”

  He didn’t ask for an explanation. She knew he wouldn’t. Adam might be only ten years old, but she knew how to spot a team player when she saw one. He’d help her without question. He’d want to help Sara. Caroline learned in the last few days that Megan was a different sort of friend, although which kind of friend Caroline couldn’t say.

  Adam was who she trusted with her plan. She stepped into a shadow to hide and give him privacy. He came back to the window. It was a struggle, but they managed to pop the screen off without making too much noise. He climbed out. They stood quietly and listened for any sounds of his parents stirring.

  When she thought it was safe to move, she crept back along the water’s edge. Adam followed behind.

  “What are we doing?” he whispered.

  “We’re releasing the snappers,” she said. She had counted at least half a dozen traps and guessed each one held two or more snappers apiece. The job was too big for one person.

  He grabbed her arm so she’d stop walking. She turned to face him. His eyes were open wide. “Why?” he asked.

  “So they don’t get Sara.”

  “But don’t you want her found?”

  She furrowed her brow. It was a complicated question and one with no easy answer. But he had crawled out of his window in the middle of the night, he could get into serious trouble, she could get into serious trouble. It was against the law to mess with a fisherman’s traps, and yet he was standing here. She owed him an explanation.

  “Yes and no,” she said. “I want her found but not this way.” It was the best she could do. She didn’t know how to explain her dream, how Sara asked not to be found, how she wanted her mommy. The dream had felt real. And the least Caroline could do was not let Sara be found by the snappers. She had formulated a plan earlier that evening, lying in bed, too afraid to close her eyes. “She’s one of us,” she told him. A kid. It was personal. “And we owe it to her.”

  Adam nodded. On some level, it was personal for him, too. Maybe it was his subtle way of getting back at Heil and the other adults for taking his treasured horse’s bit, for not speaking about the dangers of swimming in the lake, its history, what lies at the bottom.

  “Are you in?” she asked, giving him one last chance to change his mind.

  “I’m in.”

  They continued to follow the water’s edge. Caroline’s sneakers sunk in the mud. Behind her, Adam was having the same difficulty. His feet made a sucking sound with each step. And then it stopped. She didn’t hear him anymore. She turned around. He was standing still, looking out at the lake. “Adam,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

  “I thought I heard, like, a neighing sound or something.” He pointed to the sky. “But I couldn’t have. The moon isn’t full. You can only hear the horse during a full moon.”

  She looked at the moon. It was a gibbous moon. She had learned about the eight lunar phases in earth science. But was it a waxing or waning gibbous? One occurred before a full moon and the other after. She hoped it was the latter, and that the full moon had already past.

  “I checked the calendar the other day, you know, after what I found,” Adam said. “It won’t be a full moon for another two days.”

  So it was a waxing gibbous moon. She nodded and looked around uneasily. “Come on,” she said, glancing at the moon and lake one last time. “We need to keep moving.”

  They continued along the water’s edge, fighting the mud. When they reached the beach, they had a decision to make. They’d either have to cross the road and make a wide loop around the parking lot, staying close to the woods and possibly waking up Cougar, or they could stick close to the Pavilion but risk running across the open lot without any cover. The direct route was the quickest and also the scariest in her mind. She glanced at Adam. Shadows covered his face, but she sensed his nervousness. Maybe it was best to take their shot in the open and get it over with as fast as po
ssible.

  “Stay close to me,” she said.

  They sneaked along the beach’s fence line and reached the Pavilion. The water licked the shore, the crickets chirped, the mosquitoes buzzed around her ears, but otherwise the night was quiet. She took a careful step toward the building, Adam in tow. They kept their backs to the wall, staying in the shadows, creeping slowly toward the stairs. The gravel underneath their sneakers snapped, crackled, and popped like the cereal Caroline ate for breakfast. The sound was much too loud in the silent night. They continued under the steps and around the corner where the lake opened wide and flickered under the moon’s glare, where the gaping parking lot awaited.

  “On the count of three,” she said, “we run to the dock. We can hide behind the third pillar.” It was the tallest pillar on the pier and the one closest to Stimpy’s boat.

  Adam nodded.

  “One,” she said. “Two.” Before she got to three, a duck splashed in the water, quacking and calling a warning. She and Adam both jumped. They stared at each other. He covered his mouth and laughed into his hand. She started laughing too, a nervous kind of laugh that hurt her belly when she tried to contain the sound.

  “Shhh,” she said through jittery giggles.

  When they had both settled down, they straightened up and looked around.

  All was still.

  “One, two, three.” She took off across the lot. Adam was somewhere behind her. She didn’t look back until she reached the pillar. A second later Adam slammed into her. They were both bent over, sucking wind. Adam wiped his face with the back of his arm.

  Once they had caught their breath, he said, “Now what?”

  “Now we set them free.”

  * * *

  Caroline squatted next to a smaller pillar at the end of the pier. She pulled on the line that disappeared into the black water. The trap was heavy and lopsided, but she was able to tug on it an inch at a time, careful not to make a sound, until the trap surfaced.

  “I’ll hold it up,” she said. “And you open the trap door.”

  “No way.” Adam shook his head. “I’m not getting my fingers anywhere near those snappers.”

  He had a point. She wasn’t thrilled about sticking her hand close to the trapdoor and the snappers’ mouth, but what other choice did she have?

  “Here.” She handed him the line.

  He struggled with the weight of the trap, and it slid underneath the water again.

  “This isn’t going to work.” They had to move quickly if they were going to release all of them before the sun came up. She took a moment to think, then came up with an idea.

  “I’ll pull the traps out of the water and wrap the line around the pillar. All you have to do is make sure the line stays wrapped.”

  Adam nodded.

  She raised the trap again and secured the line on the pillar before handing it off to Adam. “You got it?”

  “I got it, but hurry,” he said.

  “Here goes nothing.” She lay face down on the pier and stretched her arms over the side. The snappers shifted and jostled the cage, but she was able to unhook the latch and pull the door open. She stood up. “That wasn’t too hard.”

  “They’re not swimming out,” Adam said, struggling with the line.

  “Cripes.” She’d have to tip the trap to get them to swim out, which meant sticking her fingers inside. She wiped her wet hands on her shorts. “Don’t let go,” she said, and lay down on her stomach again. She slipped her hands into the water and stuck her fingers inside the trap far enough to grasp the metal bars, lifting as best she could, tilting the cage to force the snappers out. She had to shake it several times to get them to move, but after a few seconds the two snappers swam free. She pulled the trap from the water and latched it closed. “Drop it in.”

  Adam unwound the line from the post, and the trap slowly sank to the bottom.

  “That’s one down.”

  They pulled each line, opened the traps, and shook the snappers free, one after the other in succession without stopping. They moved systematically, catching each other’s eyes every so often, checking the gibbous moon.

  On the last trap, tired and weary, Caroline’s fingers slipped from the latch. The bigger snapper reared its head and opened its mouth in warning. She pulled her arms back. The sudden movement scared Adam, and he let go of the line. The trap scraped the side of the pier and splashed into the water. She lunged for it, catching the side, and shook it until it was empty.

  Cougar started barking. The lights in Stimpy’s cabin were turned on. There was no time to close the latch. She got off her stomach and grabbed onto Adam’s arm. “Go, go, go,” she said, pushing him forward.

  They took off running down the dock and across the parking lot. They made it to the far side of the Pavilion and ducked underneath the steps. Caroline pressed her back against the wall. Adam did the same. Between heavy breaths and Cougar’s barking, she listened for footsteps. She pinched her eyes closed. Please don’t let them catch us. After what felt like several eternal minutes, Cougar finally stopped barking. She peeked around the corner toward the dock. The lights in Stimpy’s cabin were off.

  “That was close,” she said. “We better get out of here.” It didn’t make sense for her to follow Adam home, since The Pop-Inn was in the other direction, but she offered to walk him to his cabin to make sure he got back safely.

  “You don’t have to walk me back,” he said. “I can make it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Okay, but be careful.” She took a step out from under the stairs.

  “Wait,” he said. “Here.” He pulled something from his pocket and handed it to her. “It’s beef jerky for Cougar in case he starts barking again.”

  “You carry beef jerky in your pocket?”

  “All the time,” he said. “Doesn’t everyone?”

  She smiled. “Um, no, but thanks.”

  Adam crept along the fence line. She hustled across the road and slipped into the woods, weaving her way around to the path that led to the colony. Cougar yipped. She tossed him the beef jerky, and she made it to the cabin without further incident.

  She looked at Willow and smiled. “I’m back,” she said, and crawled through her bedroom window and kicked off her dirty sneakers. She peeled out of her wet clothes and dropped them on the floor. She pulled on a nightshirt and slipped into bed. Her arms lay heavy at her sides, exhausted from all of the pulling, lifting, and shaking throughout the night. She closed her eyes, her conscience clear. She believed in her heart she had done the right thing.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Cold air blew through the open window, sending the curtains flapping into the room. Thunder rumbled. Jo lay still, listening to the storm. Her head pounded and her back ached. She rubbed the spot along her spine where she had been pinned against the tree. Her mouth tasted like an ashtray. A dried stickiness smattered her inner thighs, and she couldn’t help but think that after all the ebbs and flows, the pushes and pulls, they always ended up right back where they had started.

  Kevin stirred and rolled to his side. Dried blood stuck to his lip where she had bitten him. His hair fell in his eyes. She smoothed the bangs from his forehead, and for a second, a fraction of a second really, she closed her fingers around the strands and thought about ripping them from his scalp. His eyes moved behind his lids, but he didn’t wake. She let his hair flutter through her fingers, and she gently kissed the cut on his bottom lip. “What have we done?” she whispered, and quietly got out of bed.

  After two aspirin and a hot shower, she peeked into Caroline’s room. Her daughter was curled into a ball, sound asleep. On the floor by the bed were dirty clothes and muddy sneakers. Something about it gave her pause, made her feel uneasy, but she had been feeling that way so often over the last few days, it was hard to tell whether it was her intuition or if she was just being paranoid.

  She turned away.

  Gram was awake, shuffl
ing her feet in the back bedroom, talking in a hushed voice on the old rotary phone before hanging up with a click.

  “Jo, is that you?” Gram called.

  Jo didn’t answer. Whatever Gram wanted could wait. She was sure it had something to do with cleaning closets, and just the thought of lugging old boxes around exhausted her. She had hardly slept last night, tossing, unable to shake the way the sheriff had looked at her, his questions, his accusations, the fractured bone.

  * * *

  Jo slipped out the screen door without making a sound. Thunder continued to roll, and the rain fell hard and fast, pelting her cheeks and shoulders. She didn’t mind. It felt good to feel something real, tangible. And besides, summer storms never lasted long. Already the sun was peeking through the clouds on the other side of the mountain.

  She walked across the dirt road, dodging the deeper puddles. She glanced in the direction of the Sparrow, the cabin Patricia rented. Patricia was standing behind the screen door, watching the storm, her arms wrapped around her waist. Jo waved, and Patricia called her over.

  Lightning flashed.

  “Please, come in out of the rain.” Patricia held the door open. She smoothed her blond tangled hair away from her drawn face. “Is there any news?” She clutched the collar of her blouse. Her clothes were wrinkled and worn, as though she had been wearing them for days.

  Jo shook her head and stepped inside. “Not that I heard.” She scanned the room. A stuffed cloth doll sat on one of the wicker rocking chairs in front of a child’s tea set. Coloring books were scattered on the floor amidst spilled crayons and colored pencils. Drawings of ponies and kittens covered the coffee table.

  Thunder continued to roar.

  Jo picked up a drawing. “These are really good.”

  Patricia looked at the picture. A smile crossed her lips. “Sara’s. She had an eye for detail. I teach art at the school. I guess she had a natural talent for it.” She covered her mouth and turned away.

  Jo put the picture down. “Why don’t I make you some coffee?” She fumbled around the unfamiliar kitchen. She was aware that her wet shoes and clothes dripped onto the linoleum floor, but by the looks of the stained countertops and dirty dishes in the sink, the place hadn’t been cleaned recently.