The Girl in the Lake
By
Victoria Michaels
Copyright © 2020 by Victoria Michaels
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author/publisher.
Victoria Michaels
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This book has adult content and is intended for readers who have reached the age of the majority. Activities represented in this book are for imagination and fantasy only and do are not real-life situations.
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Synopsis
Five friends go for a picnic at the lake; only four return. What happened? No one is talking.
Sometimes you’re in prison sometimes you carry the prison with you. Kenny contacted his old high school friend who spent his career as a crime reporter in the neighbouring city and is now semi-retired. He convinces him to drive all the way back out to the small town they both grew up in. Kenny has a secret he needs to talk about, and he wants Thomas Coleman to hear it – to write about it. He wishes he had come clean years ago. It would have been so much better instead of living under the shadow of this secret. And shit happens and it wasn’t on purpose and looking back he knows he would’ve been better off coming clean from the beginning.
Table of Contents
The Girl in the Lake
Synopsis
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Author Bio
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Chapter One
“Sometimes you’re in prison, sometimes you carry the prison with you,” Kenny took a long drag off his Newport Red and stared out across the trailer park yard toward the trees that lined the fence. Tommy’s eyes tracked along with him, staring out beyond the trees to the river. Tommy was sure he knew what Kenny was going to tell him next.
After a few minutes Kenny continued, still not looking at Tommy, “Fifty-five years ago it was. I remember her hair was blonde and real long. I wanted to touch it; it was so pretty. The smell of her perfume, Emeraude by Coty, still lingers in my head, and her ghost has haunted me since that day. I’m not sure what’s worse – the ghost or the guilt.” A lone tear streaked down Kenny’s wrinkled cheek and he wiped it way with a checkered handkerchief, then finally looked at Tommy. “You need a beer? I need a beer.” Kenny didn’t wait for an answer, but pushed himself out of the wooden rocking chair, his back and knees creaking louder than the chair’s old joints.
Tommy watch his old friend shuffle through the trailer door and return moments later carrying two Busch cans. Kenny handed one to Tommy. It was already sweating down the sides in the hot still July afternoon. Tommy nodded and waited for Kenny to sit back down, then he cracked his own beer and took a sip.
Kenny continued as if he had not stopped, “I didn’t know I was in love at the time, but I realized over time that I had always been in love with her. I’m still in love with her today. Prob’ly why I ne’er got married. There’s never been anyone like her; never before, never after. It was always only her.”
A vision of Betse popped into Tommy’s mind and he felt he understood what Kenny was saying. Tommy and Betse had met in University and from the moment he laid eyes on her, he knew. She was the one; the one and only. Women can get to you like that. Their life had been wonderful. Betse taught elementary school which gave her a lot of time to raise their three kids. She was there for the birth of all five grandchildren and kept an amazing home for them both in Portland. Tommy had had an equally amazing career as a journalist for PWGA TV and still did small interest stories for them occasionally; like this one.
Kenny had called him out of the blue, “I gotta get something off my chest, old friend. Can’t much take it anymore. Asides, I’m dyin’. Got the cancer and I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be around. Wouldn’t be right to go to my rest without revealing the truth. Prob’ly wouldn’t be much of a rest either. Can you come to see me? This is a story best told in person.”
That had been yesterday, and Tommy had not wasted any time. He packed a bag and kissed Betse goodbye, telling her he had a lead on a story that couldn’t wait. She was used to it anyhow; Tommy had always been bit of an opportunist and would follow leads to see if there was anything worth writing about. This one would definitely pay out, Tommy was sure. He knew the story well. Hell, everyone who was from Barrington, Washington knew this story, even if they hadn’t been born yet. It was like heritage, or lore, it had to be passed down from one generation to the other. Everyone wanted to know what really happened that day. What happened to Donna Richardson.
“You still here, Buddy,” Kenny stopped talking and looked at his visitor, “ya look like yer off somewhere else. Pay attention, I ain’t got the energy to repeat this.” Kenny lit another Newport cigarette and turned to Tommy again, “Got one o’ them recorder things? That might help both of us. Then I can keep track of where I’m at. This could take a while, you know.” Kenny started coughing. Tommy sat on the edge of the old battered lawn chair watching as his pal, barked for almost five minutes. Kenny leaned over the porch railing and hocked. A red loogie landed in the grass on the other side of the rail, then recovered, Kenny gave a couple of raspy gasps, and took a big slug of his Busch. Confident that his friend had somewhat recovered Tommy opened a recording app on his smartphone and laid it beside his own beer on the small table next to his lawn chair.
Kenny nodded and continued, “Most folks think they know the story,” Tommy did think he knew the story, but he also knew there was a lot of the story missing, “but ya don’t know the whole story.” Kenny said. “I remember the day like it happened yesterday. I guess for me it really did. Mind’s never moved on. I’ve relived that day every single day since.”
Glancing at his phone to ensure the app was recording, Tommy held a pen to a notepad and waiting for Kenny’s next words.
Chapter Two
“Hey, you assholes,” Cheryl walked through the shed door and across the cement floor toward the two young men sitting behind a table sorting bags of weed.
“Shut the fuckin’ door, Cheryl. You want the whole world to see?” Kenny barked at her. Then his face softened as he saw Donna walk through the door behind her. Donna closed the door gently and her long legs, made longer by the platform-heeled sandals, seemed to dance across the floor to stop right in front of him.
“Fuck you, Kenny,” Cheryl said and sat down on Danny’s knee, kissing his mouth hard. Danny slipped one hand between Cheryl’s thighs and the two were off, steaming up the room with a kissing and groping make out session.
“Get a room,” Donna said to the lovers, then, “Hi Kenny. Watcha up to?” Her smile was entrancing, and Kenny felt his jeans tighten as his body responded to the scent of her Emeraude perfume. Donna gave him a quick peck on the corner of his mouth, then sat down next to him. Cheryl had introduced Kenny to her best friend, Donna about two weeks earlier and the two had been flirting with each other ever since, but no where near as aggressively as the other couple
. Danny and Cheryl had been dating for two years and everyone knew they were a thing; joined at the blue jeans.
“We got a few deliveries to make this morning, babe,” Kenny tried to sound casual, hoping that would make Donna think of him as sophisticated, “just finishing packaging them up now.” Kenny and Danny had been friends since before kindergarten, which wasn’t hard growing up in a small town like Barrington, Washington. Everyone knew everyone, like, forever, and most people were related to each other in one way or another. They had got their business idea from a new television show they both enjoyed, Arrest and Trial. There was an episode where some drug dealers were busted, but they were making amazing money selling to addicts throughout the city. Kenny and Danny figured if they stuck to just pot, they could get it easy enough, and then keep their deals outside of Barrington, no one would ever find them out. So far, the money had been Boss! They were feeling like nothing could stop them.
“You’re gonna save some of that for us, aren’t you?” Donna gave him a sultry smile.
“Of course, anything for my little lady,” Kenny was not the best at the lines, but he felt he was good looking enough, and obviously an entrepreneur. He tickled Donna’s knee, running his eyes up her sexy leg to her cut off shorts. She giggled. Oh my god, that laugh, it’s intoxicating. He slid his hand up her thigh, but she caught his hand and stopped it.
“Too fast, big boy,” Donna said, “let’s get to know each other a little better.” He immediately removed his hand and smiled at Donna. She was right, no jumping into things, but my god, he’d like to jump into her, right now.
“So, what about this afternoon? Do you want…” Donna was interrupted by the shed door opening again. They all looked up at a tall skinny man, a little older than Kenny and Danny, standing in the doorway. He had a bushy mustache and black curly hair that almost reached his shoulders.
“Hey, ya fuckin’ losers, what’s hangin’?” the man walked across to where the couples sat together. “Whoa! Who’s this pretty little thing?” he asked staring a Donna; she immediately wrapped both hands around Kenny’s bicep and slid closer to him, pressing that amazing body into his hip.
“Hey Greg,” it was Danny who answered, “that’s Donna, Kenny’s new squeeze.” Kenny and Donna both threw Danny an annoyed gaze, but said nothing, “Donna, this is my cousin…well actually, second cousin…Greg Bennett.” Danny turned back to Greg, “What are you doing out here, Greg? I thought we were meeting you at the drop off.”
“Got a couple more orders, Dan. Thought I’d give ya a heads up so we can take the whole lot at once. You know, one trip. Maybe you fuckers want to hang out this afternoon. I got beer!” Greg now smiled, which made his face more handsome, but Kenny thought there was still something sinister about it. He had not liked Greg since he first met him, but Danny was insistent they could trust him. He’s had experience with breaking the law, Danny had said, he knows how to work the cops. And, besides, he’s got connections to get marijuana in bulk. He certainly had the connections; Danny didn’t lie there. But when Kenny had asked Greg about his recent six-month stint in jail, Greg had brushed it off as a demeanor…something that was fairly petty, and they couldn’t really prove it was him anyhow. Greg never elaborated.
“Oh, why don’t we go to the lake,” Donna squealed, now appearing quite excited, “Cheryl and I can make a picnic while you boys are making your deliveries. We can spend the whole day up there. It’ll be fun.” Cheryl nodded her agreement.
“Got a friend for me?” Greg leaned on the table and stared into Donna’s eyes, “or a sister?”
Donna blushed and said nothing.
“Greg, why don’t we bring some fishing gear? And I got a frisbee in the tool chest over there,” Kenny thumbed behind him, “It’ll be fun. We don’t want too many people knowing about our little business here, ya know? We kinda keep it between us.” Kenny circled his arm to indicate the small group of friends, including Greg in that swoop.
“Sure thing,” Greg said straightening up. He moved his eyes to a shelf above where Kenny had pointed, looking at something on the shelf. Then, he sat down on the bench on the other side of Kenny, “Let me help you package up the new orders.”
The girls got up to leave. Both were technically still teenagers, but Donna, at 18 had moved into a little apartment building in the downtown, across the street from the credit union she had just started working at after graduating high school a week ago. She was an adult now, and life was beginning to get exciting. This was her first adventure since settling into her apartment, and it made her feel very grown up. She was the oldest of five, and had matured early because of this, looking after her younger siblings while her mom and dad worked. Allan was her favourite, as he just adored her. He was the youngest, and Donna had been ten when he was born. She had taken him everywhere with her, treating him like her own little living doll.
“We can make sandwiches and potato salad at my apartment,” Donna said to Cheryl. The girls left, jumping into Cheryl’s 1957 Chevy Bel Air convertible, a graduation present from her own parents. True, it was almost ten years old, but to a newly licensed teen, it was freedom.
*
Kenny, Danny & Greg finished putting the pot into baggies that they closed with twist ties. They piled the bags into a large metal lunch box and clipped it shut, then headed out to Kenny’s truck. Kenny tucked the lunch box behind the bench seat, and Danny hopped in the passenger side and scooted over to the middle.
“Oh dang,” Greg snapped his fingers and turned to Kenny, “Can I get the shed keys, man? I left my car keys on the bench in there.” Kenny tossed the keys to Greg, who caught them and ran back to the shed. A few minutes later, Greg reappeared holding his keys up for the other two to see. He then ran to his older model beat up sedan and locked it, then jumped in the truck with them.
“Here you go. Thanks, man,” Greg said handing the shed keys back to Kenny. Kenny thought he noted a strange look on Greg’s face, but shook it off. What the fuck, he didn’t like the guy; that didn’t mean everything he did needed to be suspect.
Twenty-five minutes later the three men pulled into Castle Rock, a town only slightly larger than Barrington, but no one knew them here. They had a couple of customers, and one more distributor here. That guy would take the weed into smaller communities around the Washington area and sell to yokels who would pay a lot more for it. When something’s scarce, people seem to want it more. It had been making good scratch so far.
As they approached the drop off location, Greg opened the passenger door and jumped out, not waiting for Kenny to slow down. Then he ran toward their contact, a young farm kid in overalls and gumboots, who was leaning up against the fence in front of the Station 76 gas pumps. The kid perked up when he saw this tall lanky stranger running towards him and looked around to see if anyone was watching. No one was.
“Hey, Dip Stick,” Greg slowed to a walk, “I got yer stuff, if you got my money.” The kid stood and just looked at Greg, who continued, “$20 for a G. But you wanted three, right?” Greg smiled a sweet smile hidden by the bushy mustache.
“But we agreed to $10 a G,” the kid’s voice cracked, he couldn’t have been more than fourteen or so, “we had a deal.”
“Deals change,” Greg smirked, “price just went up. That is, if you still want to keep dealing with us.”
The kid dropped his head, swinging it sulkily from side-to-side, “I guess.” He reached into his overalls and pulled out a wad of bills.
“Come on, come on,” Greg motioned to the kid to hand over the money, looking nervously around as he saw Kenny’s truck pull up. The kid handed Greg a twenty, three tens and two fives. Greg flipped the bills in his fingers, then stuffed half into his front jeans pocket and held the others, $30, out to the approaching Kenny and Danny.
Danny snatched the bills out of Greg’s fingers and counted, “Give him three,” he said addressing Kenny, who took three little pouches out of the lunch box and handed them to the kid.
“Nic
e doing business with ya!” Greg waved back to the kid as the three headed back to the truck. Kenny and Danny were completely unaware of what Greg had done.
“Hey, man,” Kenny said to Greg as they drove to their next stop five minutes down the road, “why did you jump outta the truck back there? People coulda been watching or you coulda fell.”
“But they weren’t, and I didn’t,” Greg smirked at Kenny, “I just needed to stretch my legs.”
Kenny shook his head, “Don’t do it again. You don’t want to pull stunts that will make people notice us.”
“Fuck you, Kenny,” was all Greg said, and seemed to be pouting for the rest of the deliveries.
*
Two hours after they had left Kenny and Danny’s rented shed, the three men pulled back into the parking stall out front of it. As they opened the truck doors, Cheryl and Donna pulled up in the Bel Air. “We got sandwiches, potato salad, watermelon and pie!” Cheryl called out to the boys.
“And I got beer!” Greg said running to his car and opening the trunk. He pulled out a large cooler and transferred it to Cheryl’s trunk, opening the lid to show Kenny and Danny three dozen bottles of Schlitz and two bottles of white wine chilling in ice. They could have quite the party.
The men joined the women in the front of the car. Cheryl and Donna moved to the back and sat on either side of Kenny, who immediately put one hand on Donna’s thigh. She let him leave it there this time. Danny slid behind the steering wheel and Greg sat shot gun. The top was down, the weather was fine, and they were all young and free. Danny backed up and pulled out onto the street to head out of town and toward the lake.
“You should see how much booze Greg brought, baby,” Danny called over his shoulder to Cheryl in the back seat, “we are going to get drunk!”
“Oh, Danny, not too drunk,” Donna said with a worried tone, “It’s Father’s Day tomorrow, and I promised my parents I’d be there for dinner around 4 pm. I don’t want to miss it. I haven’t seen them since I moved out.”
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