The Girl and the Cursed Lake (Emma Griffin FBI Mystery Book 12)

by A J Rivers

  The Girl and the Cursed Lake

  A.J. Rivers

  Copyright © 2021 by A.J. Rivers

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Epilogue

  Staying In Touch With A.J.

  Also by A.J. Rivers

  Prologue

  DEAN

  Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream.

  It was just a dream. He knew it was. He knew every second of it. Everything that would happen.

  It had coursed through his brain a hundred times. A thousand times. More than he could ever know.

  He wanted it gone. He wanted to wipe it out of his mind, so he would never have to see it again.

  But he couldn't. He had never been able to.

  Others chased their dreams. Dean's chased him.

  Just like the voices and the footsteps.

  They came from boots. Heavy, loud, thunderous boots. That was the only thing that would thud in the dirt. Every time, they shook through him. The footsteps were getting closer. If he didn't get off the path, he'd be seen. He only just barely got away. The breath was clawing out of his lungs; dirt flying up from his own footfalls stung his eyes. He couldn't stop now.

  Somewhere, he heard screaming. He didn't know who it was, but the sound echoing through the trees seemed to be coming from all directions. It was disorienting. He didn't know where to go.

  The cracking of a limb behind him made him whip around, and in an instant, he lost his footing. His own boots slipped out from under him as the edge of the path crumbled. He tumbled down the embankment, gritting his teeth to stop himself from making noise.

  The thick trunk of a tree thumping against his back finally stopped him and he pulled himself up to sit. His knees bent, he leaned back against the tree and dropped his head down, closing his eyes as he drew in a deep breath. When he opened them, the sunlight spilling down through the branches above him glowed on the blood splattered down the front of his shirt.

  Carrie

  * * *

  Sixteen years ago …

  * * *

  Carrie hung back on the shore, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the gloom of the clouds overhead. She watched Travis chase Violet down the pier. The little girl squealed and giggled, and Carrie felt her heart swell. But at the center of it was the familiar pang. It was a sharp, twisting pain she had gotten used to over the years. It was the reminder of what she’d done. The secret bored a hole. Ate away at the very core of her.

  It was fading. A little bit at a time. The more she saw them together, the more she was able to distance herself from the pain. One day, maybe, the hole would heal. But maybe it wouldn’t. And if it didn't, that was the price she had to pay. It was her pain to carry.

  Travis scooped Violet into his arms and kissed her cheeks as she continued to giggle. She sounded so happy. As her little pink feet kicked up in the air, Carrie worried about the rough wood of the pier.

  "Where are your shoes?" she called out.

  "She kicked them off in the grass," Travis called back.

  "She needs them."

  "We're camping, Momma," he said, nuzzling Violet again. "Right, Sprinkles?"

  "Camping, Momma," Violet agreed.

  Carrie laughed and shook her head. "She's going to get splinters. Come on, now. Let's get some supper."

  "We just got here," Travis said. "Let her get her energy out."

  Carrie felt herself bristle but fought it. He was her father, she reminded herself. She needed to let go of the tight grasp. It wasn't just her watching over the little girl. Not anymore. It wasn't easy, but she made herself back up a couple of steps.

  She watched Travis and Violet run around and play for a few more seconds before going to the cabin to start unpacking. She’d never been the type to be able to just jump into a vacation. Not the type to live out of a suitcase and eat cheap food from grocery bags or see supplies piled on the counter.

  In order for her to relax and have fun, she needed to feel settled into place. That meant clothes in the dressers. Shampoo in the shower. Food in the cabinets. Floors swept and surfaces wiped.

  When all of that was done, she could relax.

  She was vacuuming in the corners of the dark-blue-and-burgundy plaid couch in the living room when the cabin door opened. Travis came in with Violet on his shoulders. The little girl scrambled down him as if he were a tree and ran into the bedroom. Carrie turned off the vacuum as Travis leaned down and kissed her cheek.

  "Are her feet alright?" she asked.

  He scoffed and went for the refrigerator. "They're fine. She was just playing.”

  "I know. But that pier was looking pretty rough. It could use a good smoothing over. Maybe even a coat of sealant."

  Travis leaned against the doorway and took a deep swig out of a bottle of beer.

  "I think that might take some of the rustic charm out of the campground," he said with a laugh in his voice.

  "I guess it would. And what's a summer camping trip without at least a couple of first aid situations?" Carrie asked.

  Travis grinned and walked over to her for another kiss.

  “Exactly,” he said. “That's the spirit. And while we're at it, you are the only person I have ever seen who cleans while camping. Where did you even find a vacuum?"

  "It's a cabin," she pointed out as she wound the vacuum cord around the handle and put it back in the closet. "It's not like I'm vacuuming a tent. And I found it in the same closet it was in last year. Remember?"

  As soon as she said it, her breath caught like a rock in her throat and she wished she could take it back. The heaviness in the air was palpable, and when she looked over at Travis, the humor was gone from his eyes.

  “No,” he said. “I don't remember.”

  He started for the door, but Carrie rushed after him. She couldn't let him walk out like that.

  “Come on,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind and kissing the middle of his back. “Let's get dinner started. You can get the grill going and I'll get all the food ready in here. Okay?" He didn't respond and she moved around him, not taking her arms away. "Okay?"

  She searched his eyes as he stared down at her. After what felt like an eternity but had to have been only a few seconds, Travis nodded. Wrapping his arms around
her, he leaned down for a kiss and Carrie felt her body relax. There were too many of those moments. She hated every one of them. They made the hole in her heart burn and regret darken the edges of her thoughts.

  Maybe it would just take time. Those moments would go away. And so would the thoughts.

  Violet ran back into the room with a doll in each hand, and Travis scooped her up again. They went outside and Carrie headed into the kitchen. She stopped herself from warning Violet not to get too close to the grill or run toward the water.

  Later, when the food was done and it was so dark the light from the front porch was the only illumination they had under the cloudy sky, Violet played in the grass. Carrie looked over at Travis and watched him watch their little girl.

  She found herself doing that every day. Sometimes all day. There were times when Carrie felt as if she watched Travis watch Violet more than she looked at her daughter herself. She wished she could identify all the emotions she felt as his eyes took in every detail of the four-year-old who had his laugh and her hair. Her nose and his intensity. There was happiness, of course. That would have to be. That was a natural way to feel.

  They were a family now. It made her happy to see them getting along so well. But there was something else. It was more than the pain of the guilt and the secret she had carried for so long. It was a kind of heaviness she didn't want to define. Something that made the back of her neck prickle.

  When that happened, watching him turned to staring at him. She wanted him to feel her eyes on him, and for that to draw his attention to her. She wanted to see his eyes. To watch the emotions change. To see if one would drain away and another would rise up.

  But he rarely turned. Not until she said his name, and then he seemed to remember she was there, too. In those moments she did her best to swallow her feelings. She needed to be more patient, more understanding. But she couldn't help the questions that came rushing through her mind. The loudest and most persistent being what might have happened if she could go back five years and make just one little change.

  Where would they be? What would life have given them if they could go back to before that fight? Before she watched him walk away and decided not to chase him?

  Before Violet.

  Above them, the clouds parted just enough to let a slice of moonlight come down. It highlighted the ripples on the lake. Maybe tomorrow the weather would be nicer. The sun would come out and they could have a day on the water.

  Travis

  * * *

  Sixteen years ago …

  * * *

  Travis woke up in that early morning hour when the first of the sunlight hadn't quite burned away all of the morning mist. But there was enough light for him to know the clouds of the day before they were gone. They would have a sunny day. Perfect for their first full day of camping.

  Carrie wanted to go out on the lake. He'd seen the wooden rack of weathered canoes down close to the water and wondered which of them was the one she’d been sitting in when she’d had her first kiss. She’d told him that story once long ago. Her words were so soaked in gin they’d smeared through the air like watercolors.

  The canoes held history for her. The lake held history for her. This entire campground held history for her.

  It belonged in Carrie's life. But so did he. That was why they were there.

  He rolled over from staring at the window and realized she wasn't in bed with him. He got up and tossed on the lightweight bathrobe draped across the back of an old spindle chair near the foot of the bed. The temperature inside the cabin had already started to creep up. The place had a vacuum cleaner tucked conveniently away in the closet, but not an air conditioner.

  The ceiling fans cranking at full blast churned the air enough to make some difference in the heat of the living room. The cooler temperature hit him when he opened the bedroom door and brought with it the sound of Carrie and Violet talking in the kitchen.

  “Good morning,” Carrie said when he went into the kitchen.

  He noticed both of them were already dressed. They'd been awake for a while.

  “You two got up early,” he observed.

  “Violet always does when ’re here. I thought she was too little to remember, but apparently she does,” Carrie replied.

  “I didn't mean to sleep in,” he said.

  “Oh, you didn't,” she said. “You looked so peaceful when I got up, I didn't want to wake you.”

  “Well, I had planned on making everybody breakfast this morning. I didn't realize I would be the last one to get up,” Travis chuckled.

  Carrie smiled at him. “Don't worry. Breakfast is under control.”

  She gestured to the stove and Travis saw a pot of oatmeal. It looked heavy and sticky for a day that was already proving hotter than he would have expected it to be at this time of the season. But she looked so proud of it, he didn't want to disappoint or hurt her. So, he smiled and went for one of the bowls set out on the counter next to the stove.

  Filling it with the thick, hot cereal, he carried it over to the table. The pitcher of chilled cream and bowl of strawberries set in the middle offered some relief. Drizzling a thick ribbon of cream in a spiral on his oatmeal, Travis scooped up a large spoonful of the strawberries and dumped them in the center. Sugar sparkled on them drew out their juice, giving the cream a pink tinge.

  He glanced over at Violet's full bowl. It had a swirl of cream, but no berries.

  "Try some strawberries," Travis offered, getting another spoonful. "You'll like them."

  He was starting to tip the berries into the bowl when Carrie rushed forward, her hand shooting out to push the spoon away.

  "She's allergic," she said.

  "To strawberries?" Travis asked.

  Carrie nodded and he wondered how he couldn't know that about her. How could he have never offered them to her, seen her avoid them?

  "She had a really serious reaction the one time she ate them. When she was about a year old," she said.

  "Then why do you have them around?" Travis asked.

  Her eyes narrowed and hardened, but only for a moment, as if she consciously softened them.

  "Because they're such a common food, she is going to be around them during her life. She needs to learn to cope with being around her allergens without contaminating her own food, and to not expect everything and everyone to be modified in order to accommodate her," Carrie said. "I don't want her to be one of those people who expects everybody around her to change what they eat all the time, or to freak out if she is near one of the things she's allergic to."

  "’One of?’" Travis raised an eyebrow. "What else is she allergic to?"

  "Are we swimming today?" Violet asked. A tinge of red crept along the sides of her neck like the strawberry juice in cream.

  He didn't know if she could sense the tension and was consciously trying to break it, or if she was just a little child wanting attention, but Carrie seemed grateful for the interjection. She gave a wide smile to their daughter and ran her hand down her pale brown curls.

  "Yes," she said. "As soon as we’re done with breakfast, we can get ready to go."

  Violet scooped two more spoonfuls into her mouth and nodded. "I'm ready."

  Holding Carrie's hand in the warmth of the sunlight on their shoulders as they walked the path to the lake felt natural to Travis. It was one of those experiences that felt etched in time, as though it was always supposed to happen. The three of them, hand in hand, walking along the curving trail with the carpet of pine needles at their feet and the droplets of sun dripping down from the leaves above them. It was a set piece moment. It was going to happen. It had just been waiting for them.

  It could have happened years ago. After Carrie had told him that story about the canoes and laughed until tears streamed down her face about something she must have forgotten to say. They could have ended up there and walked this same trail.

  Since they hadn’t, the moment waited.

  And now they were there. He
looked over at her and watched the smile curve her lips without effort or thought.. Violet had been walking between them, holding one hand of each when they first left the cabin. Soon, though, she dropped their hands and skipped ahead.

  Carrie’s and Travis's hands fell together naturally. They didn't miss a step.

  Violet turned a slight bend in the path in front of them and for an instant, it was only the two of them and the sound of the forest.

  A moment later they were back together, and the little girl wedged herself between them to take their hands again. They walked together to the edge of the water and looked out over the lake. Other families were filtering down to the water, coming out of the cabins dotted in the woods and the tents making bright flashes of orange and yellow among the trees.

  But those were only the ones the people wanted to see.

  Travis didn't know what brought up that thought, but it brought his eyes to the deeper parts of the woods in the distance. A dark green tarp would all but disappear among the trees and shadows.

  They got to the rack of canoes and waited while a man pulled one off, examined it, and tossed it aside. He took another and walked to the water. Carrie and Travis looked at each other and muffled laughter.

  "All right, which one do we like?" Travis asked Violet.

  Again, she let go of their hands and again theirs clung to each other.