by CeeCee James
I held my breath, not sure if I’d gone too far.
He groaned. “Stella…”
“I’m sorry, Dad. I know it’s hard for you.”
“No, it’s just….Maybe you’re right.”
My jaw dropped. Let me tell you, I couldn’t have been more shocked if a monkey ran through the room. In all the years I’d known my dad, I’d never heard him admit that someone else was right. Not me nor anyone else.
“Dad, What’s going on? Are you feeling okay?” Adrenaline flushed through me. That was it. Something had to be wrong with him. I needed to get back there to Washington right away. Did he just get some bad news from the doctor?
“Honey. I feel fine. It’s just that I’m realizing how parenthood is a cruel trick. You spend all these years trying to protect your kid. You do everything you can to be responsible and keep them safe. And then, one day, you have to let go. There’s nothing in the parenting manual that prepares you for that.”
“Dad, you did a great job.” I said, and I meant it. After a second, I added, “Oscar thinks so, too.”
There. The band-aid was ripped off. I twisted a piece of my hair nervously, wondering what he would say next.
I didn’t have to wait for long.
“Well, how would he know that?” His voice had its usual acerbic bite when talking about Oscar, but it also sounded like he really was curious. Let’s see. How to word this… Well, Dad, you know how you’ve tried to keep the last twenty years private from Oscar? Well, I’ve been sharing those memories of growing up with him.
Nope, not going to do it. I took the easy way out.
“We’ve talked a few times. He mentioned once that he could tell you did a good job.”
“Did he now?” Dad harrumphed. “Well, he always did like to dig out the truth. So, you’re doing okay, then?”
I thought about the dead body, the million phone calls I’d just received, and what might be buried treasure sitting at my first house up for sale. His head would figuratively explode if he knew. Instead, I said, “Totally! Things are going great right now.”
“All right. You call me soon. Got that?”
“Soon. I promise.”
Little did I know that’d be a promise I’d have to break.
Chapter 8
After my phone call with my dad, I grabbed my new notebook—one with a fabulous embossed cover—and opened it to the first fresh page. Okay, Mr. Riddle. Tell me your secrets.
I found my way back to the Unsolved Riddles list and scrolled down to number eighty-seven. I copied and pasted it into a separate search bar and hit enter. I wanted to see if the correct wording would yield anything new.
The rainbow wheel spun as the page tried to load. Now I was getting irritated with the weather. It was interfering with the wi-fi. The rain beat against the window in an epitome of the term lashing, with zero signs of ending soon.
I tapped my pen against the paper and then glanced at the search bar. The only link that finally showed up led back to the site I’d just left. No help at all.
Okay, what else could I try? Well, if the lake’s the answer, I might as well dig into its history.
The Johnson Lake name brought up several links, the first being the story of how it got made. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Blah, blah, blah. Nothing new here.
But the next one was surprising. It was a link to a gamer’s site.
Why in the world would this lake be mentioned on a gamer’s site?
I clicked on the name, Trek's World, which led to a giant forum. As someone whose idea of a big game was Sudoku, I was immediately overwhelmed. I hadn’t heard of any of these. Even worse, each game had its own mini forum filled with posts.
At the top of the page was a search function. Keeping my fingers figuratively crossed, I typed in the lake’s name. Honestly, if this didn’t work, I wasn’t sure what else to try. There would be no way I could sift through this massive sea of posts.
The screen went blank as it brought up the searches.
Come on. Come on.
A link popped up to a thread named “Relic found at a garage sale!”
Even more interestingly, the date was marked three days ago. Excitement zinged through me as I hurriedly clicked it and scrolled through the comments.
—Anyone hear the news of what was discovered at some random garage sale this weekend? You know the riddle, Sharpest edge in a watery grave. Over the west field for those that are brave. Through the woods and down the hole. Take it carefully and beware of the toll. Well, I know the guy who found a book called “Through the Woods,” and that poem was in it! Signed by the author, Ava Summers. It said, “Once my home was safe. Now the water laps the grave.”
Another person responded—You’re behind, son. I looked up the author and it said her father’s home was flooded years ago. It’s Johnson’s Lake. I’m heading there to check it.”
I practically vibrated from excitement. This was it! All the other posts after that one chimed in with congratulations and their own interpretation of the riddle.
I knew it. People were coming to see if this property was the answer to the riddle. If people believed there really was a treasure down in the lake, then they’d be making offers on the property. Whoever owned it would own the treasure.
But after yesterday, was the treasure even down there anymore?
I scrolled back up to find the original poster’s name. GettingStamped.
What a weird screen name. I needed to talk to him. I really did. Now, how could I find who this person really was?
I didn’t see any way to message him on the site. But, there was a link that said, register now, so I made an account. Everything was going well until I had to come up with my own screen name. My fingers froze over the keyboard. What the heck should I put?
I went back to the games I’d played as a kid and typed in CarmenS, for Carmen Sandiego. Then I hit enter.
An option to message him popped up. I bit my lip and gave a stupid grin as I typed. “Hey I saw your post and I was wondering if you’d been able to check if there was a real connection to Johnson Lake or not. I have a link to it. Message me as soon as you can. People are crawling all over the place.”
I hit send and held my breath. I don’t know why I was so anxious. He might not get back to me for days. To check that theory out, I clicked his profile to see when he’d last logged in. Three days ago. I groaned. He might never answer me.
It brought me back to the fact that Old Man Lenny was no spring chicken. He didn’t seem to be the type that would be interested in a gamer’s site. It didn’t make sense why he went to the lake after this post was made.
I needed to get more information about Lenny. Was he married? Did he have kids? Quickly, I jotted down the questions so that I’d remember to get the answers in the morning. Then I rinsed out my mug and got my laundry going. I figured I had some things to get in order before it was time for bed. Maybe I’d even bake some cookies. I could use the sugar fortification.
After all, tomorrow was going to be an important day.
Chapter 9
It wasn’t an easy night sleep, what with the storm outside and the one brewing in my head. I finally gave up at six am, and stumbled into the kitchen blinking bleary eyes. I swallowed a couple of aspirin and then scuffed over to my couch, gripping my mug of coffee like it was the holy grail. The coffee was hot, nearly burning my mouth. But I savored it, blowing and taking small sips as I watched the rain splash in the mud puddles.
I thought about my grandfather, sitting all alone in his own house. Maybe even watching the rain like I was. Was he lonely? He’d seen a lot. I didn’t know what he thought of his sons, my dad and Uncle Chris. I wasn’t sure where he was with wanting to reconcile.
The last time I’d talked with Uncle Chris, he’d sounded like he thought there was no hope. That the distance between everyone had been too much for far too long.
I couldn’t hear it. I wouldn’t accept it. I needed this, needed everyone to get back together. A
nd I had a seed of faith that it was going to happen.
Despite my weird upbringing, I realized that maybe I was an old soul who was super nostalgic. I guess I was always that way. When I was a kid, Dad would take me to see Santa at Cabela’s. I saw the same Santa every year until I was eleven when I refused to take any more Santa pictures. I was too old, I’d insisted. But I also made Dad continue to take me the first weekend of every December. Ostensibly, I was looking for Dad’s Christmas present, but really, I wanted to walk by the Grandpa-like man I’d seen since I was six years old. It made my holiday to watch him say, “Merry Christmas! Ho! Ho! Ho!”
I think he remembered me. When I’d walk by, he’d lift a gloved-hand and wave with the time-hewn jolly twinkle of his eye. Then he’d give me a wink and a thumbs up.
I always waved back and ducked my head with a smile.
I thought of the phone call with my dad last night, and took another sip. The rich coffee scent filled me with ease. It had been good to hear his voice. I really did want him to come up and see my place.
My eye caught sight of the peeling wallpaper. Just as soon as I had that fixed.
Sighing, I got up and refilled my cup, then hung up a load of laundry up on a wooden drying rack that I’d forgotten in the washer.
Finished, I sank before the computer with a yogurt and opened my email.
My eyes popped open. There was a long string of emails from Uncle Chris. I clicked the most recent.
He wrote, “Why aren’t you answering your phone?”
I smacked my forehead as I remembered that I’d turned on the Do Not Disturb setting last night. Quickly, I flipped it off. Staring at the phone, I considered calling him. Was it too early? Sometimes, he liked to stay out with his old racing buddies. I groaned and sent him a text instead. —Sorry! What’s going on?
I watched the phone for a second but there was no answer. Yeah, he must still be in bed.
There was also a message from Kari, asking me to stop the realty on my way to Johnson Lake.
Well, no more horsing around. I had that eight o’clock appointment and one right after that. After reading the forum, I didn’t have a lot of hope any of these were legit buyers, but it was still going to be a busy day.
When I arrived at Flamingo Realty, her silver minivan was already parked outside. She was seated behind her desk and looked up as I came in.
“Miss Popularity,” she said with a smile. She grabbed the papers in front of her and rifled them into a stack. “Just the person I wanted to see.”
“You heard about that, huh?” I said. “What are you doing?”
Kari handed me a piece of paper. “I was about to text this to you. This is what came through on the Flamingo website last night.”
I glanced at the paper. There was a list of names and numbers that had booked showings. I made a face as I read it. I should have packed a lunch.
“Uncle Chris said he asked the police to swing by last night and make sure no one was out there partying or something. Any news about that?” I asked.
“I didn’t hear anything, so I assume it’s fine.”
“So, I have a couple of questions. What’s the deal with this guy, Lenny? Did he have a family?”
“No, he never married. I have no idea why. He was a nice guy,” Kari said. “He used to be in the barbershop quartet. I remember them singing at the nursing home last Christmas season when I was visiting my grandma. They did such a cute job.” She smiled at the memory. “Grandma flirted with him a bit. He was a great sport and let her kiss his cheek.”
“Aw, that’s cute. So, where did he live exactly?”
“He lived on the ranch of that restaurant I was telling you about. Had a room there. I don’t know much more about him, other than he seemed to enjoy his job.”
“So, why would Roy Merlock not like him?”
“A hundred years ago, it was over water rights. Their families have been feuding ever since, even after the Johnson’s sold the property. Who knows what fuels these family feuds.” She shrugged.
“You want to know what’s creepy? Whoever killed Lenny was in the water with him. They must have been friends.”
Kari tucked her short blonde hair behind her ear. “Or the person knew that Lenny was going to be there and showed up when he was already in the water.”
Well, that was a new theory I hadn’t considered. “I heard the Johnson’s house flooded before they could get everything out. Do you think there’s some kind of treasure down in the house still?”
Kari laughed. “I hardly think so. Besides, over a hundred years have passed since that happened. Who knows how many people have been in that water, snooping around that old house. If there were anything there, it would have been found ages ago.”
I nodded. Not to mention, I could hardly imagine what someone could have all those years ago that gamers would want. My gaze landed on the clock on the wall, igniting a flare of panic. I needed to haul butt over there or I would miss the showing.
I ran for the door, shouting, “Holy cow, I’m late! I’ll talk to you later."
“Hang on a second, Stella,” Kari called. I cringed and turned around, not having time for small talk.
“There’s another thing really weird about all this sudden interest in the house.”
“What?” I asked.
“None of these people who’ve made appointments have an agent representing them. They’re just coming straight to you.”
“Is that strange?” I asked. I wouldn’t know since this was my first sale.
“Yeah, it really is.” Her brows rumpled. I didn’t know what to say in response, so I waved goodbye and ran to my car.
I might be running late, but I had to get something to eat, so I whipped through the drive through. Ten minutes later, while munching on an egg wrap, I thought about what Kari said. Up until now I’d been pleased there was no other real estate agent involved. It was a no brainer—more commission for me.
But now I felt like it was more proof that these people weren’t interested in buying the property after all. They were just using me to snoop around. I was glad Uncle Chris had called the police to have them keep an eye on the place, and I was starting to wonder what I was going to find when I got there.
Chapter 10
My gut instincts were right on the money. It was not a pretty sight when I pulled into the driveway and jockied my car into a space to park. Three cars were already there, with a fourth following behind me. I flushed with outrage when I saw a crowd of people down by the lake. There were people in the water, people running up the shore. There was even someone up in a tree.
There was no time for a text. I called Uncle Chris.
As I got out of the car, phone to my ear, a woman in a business suit stalked toward to me. Her expensive high heels stabbed into the ground, looking about as out of place as a fine china cup in a pig pen. As if to prove my point, her heel speared a mud clot like a shish-kabob. Her front deepened when she had to stop to shake it off.
“You never got back to me,” she shrilly accused, her brows raising even more. “What kind of professionalism is that?”
I held up a finger to signal to her to wait just one minute. Uncle Chris had answered.
“Uncle Chris? Send some help immediately.”
He exhaled heavily. “Stella?” he asked, his voice muffled. I realized then that I’d woken him up.
“It’s kind of a nonemergency emergency. This place is flooded with people and….oh my gosh, here comes another…I’m calling the police for trespassing.”
The woman continued to harp at me. I walked around the car with her hot on my heels.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“At the Johnson’s house! It’s a zoo here!” I yelled, wanting to reach through the phone and yank him over here to see this mess.
“Oh. Right.” There was a lot of rustling and he grunted. “Okay, I’m on my way. I’ll give Dave a call.”
“Wait, what? Who’s Dave?”
&nb
sp; “He’s that friend of mine down at the station. He’ll get someone out pretty quick. Don’t worry.” I heard a thump, then he continued. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“All right. Bye.” I didn’t have time to talk anymore. The woman had reached me, never once pausing in her ranting, and was actually jabbing her finger in my direction. I didn’t have the fortitude to focus on what she was saying, because sounds of splashing made me turn back to the lake. More men waded in, some with snorkel masks.
I clutched the phone like it was my life line, my mouth hanging open.
There was a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see the woman mere inches from my face with her finger. I stepped back, one second away from swatting it like a fly.
“I expected a phone call back. I’ve never had someone treat me this way before!” the woman harped.
I just couldn’t deal with her. I held my finger up again and dialed Kari.
“Stella, you okay?” She must have heard the yells in the background because her voice was immediately on guard.
“Nope. Not in the slightest. You think you could head this way?”
“Yeah. Of course. What’s going on?”
“Let’s just say my cup overfloweth with buyers.”
“Oh, boy. That bad huh?”
“Ms. O’Neil,” screech the woman.
Kari was silent for a second and then stated, “I’m on my way.”
Okay. I’d called in the troops, and now all I could do was wait. I took a deep breath and turned toward the woman. Her eyes glared, supercharged with emotion. I’m sure ruining her shoes didn’t help.
“And what is this circus?” she asked, waving her hands. Just as she said this, yet another car pulled into the driveway.
“Who are you, again?” I asked as she finally took a breath.
Her mouth dropped, appearing actually shocked that I’d asked that. “I’m Angela Cranton, with Cranton Realty. We have an appointment?”