by Gina LaManna
The rest of the sprawling park was quite pretty during the summer, murky water aside. Charming weeping willows fell low over winding streams between well-trodden trails. Benches dotted the walkways, providing relief for the weary feet of couples on an ambitious stroll. For those who knew the area, like myself, the less scary path ventured around Round Lake, a small little offshoot of the main drag. And much more manageable than the three-mile pilgrimage around Phalen itself.
“Why didn’t we check the mall first?” Meg asked. “At least then I could’ve picked up a smoothie or something. Even the hot dog stand is closed here today. How am I supposed to work in these cruel conditions?”
“That’s because it’s the beach, and it’s February.” The snow was patchy and brown, the lake topped with inches of ice. “Plus, it’s Monday. Kids are supposed to be in school, so there wouldn’t be hot dog vendors hanging around.”
I held up a hand to shield the bright sun from my eyes and looked into the distance. One tiny ice hut sat out in the middle of the lake, and even from here I could see all the signs of a solo fisherman.
I really hoped that we’d find the girls’ hiding spot – preferably behind a bush, or someplace simple – before I had to walk all the way out there and ask if he’d seen anything. Especially since we’d had an oddball sixty degree day last week. I didn’t have a whole lot of faith in the ice’s ability to hold my weight since I’d fallen off the burned toast diet and turned to pizza for breakfast.
Clapping my hands and stomping my boots together for warmth, I looked into the darkening horizon. “We’ve got an hour or two max before the sun goes down, so let’s move it. We’ll split up around this area and do the best we can. If we can’t get out of here before dark, we’ll have to call Anthony.”
“If those girls are at the mall getting a manicure, I’m gonna throw something at them,” Meg mumbled. “At least they could’ve invited me. I would’ve kept their running away a secret.”
“Bad, Meg, that’s bad. No keeping secrets like that.”
“At least we know they’d be safe at the end of the day. That’s what matters, right?”
My spine stiffened. Maybe I hadn’t admitted it before, or even realized it, but I had a soft spot for those two wild children. Despite my fear of babysitting, I still couldn’t stand to see them hurt. “Let’s go, Meg. Anywhere you might have hidden, anywhere they might have hidden, anywhere anyone might have hidden, we’re going to look. Don’t leave any stones, rocks, or bushes unturned.”
CHAPTER 12
An hour and a half later the sun was dangerously low on the horizon, and neither of us had come close to finding a hint as to the girls’ whereabouts. I’d found a bootprint in one pile of snow, but it could’ve belonged to any of a hundred kids who built snow forts here on the weekend, or rolled up families of snowmen, or went sledding down the slippery slope onto the lake. Although, Meg had found a piece of gum. I don’t know how that’s relevant, but she saved it, anyway.
“Let’s call Clay and see if he has anything,” I said, wiping my brow. Despite the dipping temperatures, we’d been hoofing it through snowbanks, and it was hard work. The parka I wore constricted my movement, and hauling around ten extra pounds of winter gear had me sweating in places I wasn’t comfortable admitting aloud. “If he thinks the girls are still around Phalen somewhere, we’ve got to call Anthony and get him to bring the big guns over here. It’s a relatively warm day for February, but the girls shouldn’t be outside overnight.”
“When you say Anthony’s big guns, you mean…” Meg trailed off. “Right. His biceps.”
“No, I meant the professionals. With lights. Tracking gear.” I paused. “Well, I guess that includes himself and his biceps, yes.”
Meg fist pumped. “I love not being wrong!”
However, Meg’s fist pump was relatively lackluster, and I had the sneaking suspicion it wasn’t just because she’d been hauling arse all afternoon – peeking, prodding, and crawling through bushes left and right. As each quarter of an hour passed without clues the girls had even been here; with no phone call from Clay giving us updated information; with no text from Nicky saying that the girls had stumbled through the front door giggling and apologetic after a day of missing school, our hope that this was a giant misunderstanding was fading with the daylight.
“I’m going to go ask the guy in the hut out there if he’s seen anything.” I forced myself to the edge of the lake where the ice crackled against the sand’s edges.
The temperature had dropped quite drastically since we’d arrived, putting us at a balmy twenty-nine degrees Fahrenheit. The silver lining was that with a temperature below freezing, the ice was much more likely to hold. Granted, I didn’t have much of a choice. Not many people strolled around the lake on a mucky, February day at dusk, and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to ask our fisherman a few questions.
“Girl, I saw your breakfast dishes in the sink.” Meg shook her head. “And I know Anthony didn’t eat all that pizza and ice cream. So just consider how much you weigh today before stepping onto that ice.”
“Are you calling me fat?”
“No, I’m calling the pizza you ate fat.”
“It’s full of fiber.”
“Which weighs you down,” Meg said. “I’m just looking out for you. Are you sure you don’t wanna reconsider? At least use the restroom first.”
“The ice is thick enough.” I bent in half and knocked against the ice. Which didn’t mean anything, but it gave my confidence a boost when the ice didn’t crack open and suck my fist inside the frigid water. “And it’s only getting colder outside.”
“Okay, fine. But I’m not coming out there if you fall in.” Meg crossed her arms.
“I think it’ll hold.” I pointed. “There’s a house out there, for crying out loud. I certainly don’t weigh as much as a house.”
“No, but then I know how you ‘do’ ice cream, and your sundaes probably weigh as much as a house.”
“Then have your speed dial at the ready. If the ice cracks, call for help.” I inhaled a slow, deep breath, and stuck one leg out onto the slippery surface. “I’m going for it.”
The ice crackled.
Meg’s breathing grew louder. “Okay, then, Queen Frostine. Good luck. Oh, and I hope the guy out there isn’t too creepy. Do you want a gun?”
“No, I don’t need a gun! I’m just asking him a few questions.”
“Suit yourself.”
Slowly, slowly, slowly, I slid one foot in front of the other. I’d never been a huge skater. My career on ice had been shut down when I fell in second grade and lodged the end of an ice-skating blade into my own knee. I’d stayed away from putting sharp, dangerous things on my feet after the doctors rolled their eyes and stitched me back together.
“Pick up your feet,” Meg shouted. “It’s going to take you all night at that pace.”
I didn’t pick up my feet. Picking up my feet increased my chances of slipping. Meg would just have to wait, since nobody could make me move faster.
Shuffle left, shuffle right, shuffle left, shuffle…forever might not be long enough at this pace.
After three hundred and twenty four shuffles, I looked back to shore. I waved to Meg.
“Keep going,” she said. “You’re almost ten feet out.”
I sighed, having barely moved. If I wanted, I could probably give Meg a handshake. Gathering up my courage, I took a real, human-sized step, lifting up my foot and everything.
“There you go!” Meg whistled loud enough that the man in the hut popped his head outside.
I waved. “Hi, sir! Can we talk to you?”
He disappeared inside his hut.
I grumbled, then resumed my routine. Shuffle left, shuffle right, shuffle left, shuffle right.
“Oh, for crying out loud! I’ll pull you.” Meg took a few stomps onto the ice. “Grab my hand.”
“Whoa, whoa.” Crouching down, I rested my mittened fingers against the ice in a crab-walk pos
ition. “You’re shaking the entire lake.”
“I’ve got an idea.” Meg took off her outermost layer, an old, lumpy jacket we’d found in Carlos’s coat closet, and spread it on the ice. “Sit on this.”
“Meg, put your coat on or you’ll freeze.” The whole reason we’d needed to find Meg a jacket in the first place was because she’d worn nothing but a sleeveless camo vest and a sleeveless turtleneck to the estate. Tattoos peeked out from underneath the thin shirt made mostly of pockets. The utensils Meg stored in her vest had saved our lives on previous occasions, but while it was great for storing candy, the pockets didn’t do much to keep her warm.
“I’m a beast. Now sit down, or I’m leaving without you.” Tapping her foot expectantly, she stared at me until I plopped down on the jacket. Not one second after I’d gotten situated on her makeshift, lumpy sled, Meg started taking off her belt.
“Whoa, not here. There’s a time and a place for that,” I said, waving my hands. “You definitely want to leave your pants on. Frostbite in that general region would not be fun.”
“Unfortunately for you, my pants are staying on. Fortunately for Clay, my nether-regions will remain protected.” She handed me one end of the belt. “Hang on to this.”
“Ew.” Thankfully, I didn’t have time to linger on the thought of Meg’s nether-regions. I gripped the belt just as she set off with firm, confident steps across the lake, while I drifted lazily behind on the makeshift toboggan.
“This is better than a sleigh ride,” I said. “This is awesome.”
Meg didn’t respond. She was too busy huffing in and out, traipsing her way across the lake. At first, it was terrifying; the ice shook with each of her footsteps, and the belt kept twisting with a violence that sent me into nauseating spirals. However, after accepting the constant threat of falling through the ice, the whole thing was pretty fun. And fast. It took two seconds for Meg to cross the same distance it’d taken me three hundred and twenty four shuffles to cover.
“Whee!” My cheeks froze in a smile, and I could feel my nose hairs becoming icicles, but I didn’t mind. “This is some serious fun, Meg.”
She huffed and puffed. In no time at all, we pulled up to the front door of the ice hut.
“Heel, Meg.” I stood up, leaving the battered jacket on the ground, thanking my lucky stars we’d chosen one that Harold swore up and down hadn’t been used for twenty years and wouldn’t be missed. “Good girl.” I patted her on the head. “Thanks for the ride.”
She nodded. “That was a workout. The pizza you ate must’ve been dense.”
To avoid commenting, I focused on straightening my jacket and gathering the guts to knock on the door of the ice house. Before I could raise a fist, the door swung open.
“Hello.” A man close to retirement age stepped outside of the hut and crossed his arms over a new, shiny jacket with an expensive label on the front. A matching hat, gloves, and scarf trio completed the look. Where I’d been anticipating a mountain man with a wild beard, I faced a well-groomed lawyer-type of guy. “I don’t normally get visitors out here, especially young, attractive women. To what do I owe this honor?”
Meg ran a hand across her forehead, wiping away sweat. Her chest heaved as she sucked in enough air to speak. “Attractive? I’ll take it. I’m sweatin’ like a pig, though. Wait ‘til you see me all cleaned up.”
The man blinked in her direction. “Well, of course. And daring. Not just anyone would journey across the lake to a stranger’s icehouse in the dark.”
Now that he mentioned it, our plan sounded a whole lot more ridiculous than it had on the shore. By now, the sun had slipped below the horizon, and the last glimmers of light were hanging on by a thread. It wouldn’t be long before the only light would be the glow from street lamps.
Clearing my throat, I took a step away from the hut. “Normally I wouldn’t do something like this, but I’m looking for someone. I’m sorry to bother you. Am I interrupting?”
“No, no. How can I help you?” Instead of inviting us inside like the “Minnesota nice” protocol I’d come to expect, the man moved outside of the hut and closed the door, keeping his body strategically between us and the small house.
“We’re looking for someone,” I said. “Two young ladies by the name of Marissa and Clarissa. One is blonde, the other is brunette. Have you seen anyone by that description?”
“How old are they?” He frowned, not answering my question.
“They’re this big.” Meg held up a hand to her waist. “Age is just a number. Height’s more important.”
He shook his head. “Sorry, I haven’t seen them.”
“Have you been here all day?” I didn’t mean to sound accusatory, but my tone must’ve been on edge because the man’s eyes darkened, and his tone sharpened.
“All day, yes. And last night. But I took a nap this afternoon, so maybe I missed them. Were they with anyone else?”
“No, we think they ran away. There’s a chance they came here to hang out instead of going to school.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but I haven’t seen them.” Turning around, he rested a hand on the door. “I’m going to get ready for dinner now, if you’ll excuse me.”
“Do you have any, uh, hand sanitizer?” I blurted the first thing that came to mind. I didn’t particularly feel like going inside the hut, but we’d come this far; I had to try. “You know, germs.”
Meg frowned at me. “You pick now to start worrying about germs? I saw you eat a marshmallow off the floor the other day.”
“Yep.” I kept a tight smile on my face. “Overnight germophobe.”
Raising his eyebrows, he shook his head. My lies hadn’t convinced him. “No, I’m sorry, but I will let you know if I see anyone resembling the description of Marissa and Clarissa.”
His use of the girls’ names rattled my nerves. Between that and his resistance to letting us in the shack, I couldn’t get over the idea that he was hiding something. What, I couldn’t say. But I planned to find out.
CHAPTER 13
“He could’ve just wanted to eat dinner,” Meg said. “And there’s an excellent possibility he took a nap in the middle of the day. I know I would; this cold takes a lot out of you. Plus, dealing with all them fish guts? No, thank you.”
After an attempt to begin my little shuffle routine back to shore, Meg tossed me back onto the jacket and handed me the belt in order to make it back before daybreak.
“Yeah,” I murmured, the ice slowly numbing my butt one square inch at a time. “But it’s just weird.”
“You’re overthinking it,” Meg said. “He was just surprised to see us out in the middle of the lake. Also, hand sanitizer? If you wanted to get in the house, you should’ve at least asked for toilet paper or something. A human can survive without sanitizer for the weekend, but there’s no way they can manage without TP. I should know.”
“I said the first thing that came to my mind, okay?”
“See, this is one of those moments Clay was talking about,” Meg said. “If you thought before you talked, you wouldn’t have said the first thing that popped into your head. You might’ve thought of toilet paper.”
“Yeah, whatever. I still say he wouldn’t have let us in. Anyway, I’m going to make a quick phone call.”
“What do you think I am, your chauffeur?” Meg grunted as she took a few more steps, yanking me along behind her. “Okay, I’m your chauffeur. Go ahead.”
“I’m calling Anthony to have him send someone out here.” I fumbled with my phone for a second before pulling off my glove. I shivered, feeling like a big ole baby, seeing how Meg was half-clothed and carrying 100% of the load. Somehow, she wasn’t lying about all that sweat.
“Uh, Lacey? Hang up the phone and look up.”
“I can’t see anything.” I tried to peer around Meg’s figure, but the only thing in sight was the mud-encrusted snow bank around the edges of the lake.
“Stand up, then.” Meg reached back and hauled me to my feet befor
e I could argue. “Your boyfriend read your mind.”
“Either he read my mind, or he’s gone psycho,” I said, my gaze following the figure outfitted in a black Under Armour long-sleeved shirt and shorts. “He is running around the lake. Who runs around the lake in this weather?”
“It looks like running,” Meg said. “But I can’t be sure because I’ve never done it. At least, not for enjoyment.”
“But why?”
“Maybe you’re not giving him enough of a workout at home, if you know what I’m saying.” Meg raised her eyebrows. “Lacey, do we need to have a how-to-satisfy-your-man chat?”
“No!” Recoiling with a shudder, I tried to shuffle shuffle away. An intimate “how-to” guide from Meg was the last conversation I wanted to happen. Right below a discussion on how to remove unwanted body hair. “No, I’m sure it’s not that. I think. I hope.”
Meg cackled. “Let me teach you some tricks. I guarantee Anthony will thank me; I even have a one hundred percent success rate.”
“At what?”
“Spicing things up with your man.”
“We’re plenty spicy.” Blushing, I waited a beat while my brain deleted the images Meg had oh-so-kindly generated. “I’m not going to ask who you use as a reference.”
“I can tell you,” Meg said. “Let’s start with the basics—”
However, her guided tutorial ended abruptly as Anthony’s gaze turned and noticed the pair of lunatics halfway across the lake.
Half-naked, Meg waved back to him. “He sees us! Wave, Lacey.”
Shaking his head, Anthony picked up his pace until he came around the last curve, halting just before the beach. I couldn’t see his expression from all the way out here, but I could imagine it was a surprised one. Or bewildered. Or maybe he wasn’t surprised in the slightest and he was rolling his eyeballs. Probably the last one, actually.
Before I knew it, Meg ditched me on the ice and marched back towards shore, leaving me stranded with a belt and her lumpy jacket.
“What are you doing here?” Meg made it to the beach and gave Anthony a shoulder punch. “Are you running? For fun?”