The Secrets of Lake Road: A Novel

by Karen Katchur

  She pushed Heil’s office door open without knocking. He was sitting behind a cheap-looking desk next to a metal filing cabinet. Several mounts hung on the wall—lake trout, pike, big-mouthed bass. A couple of fishing poles were tucked in the corner of the room. His face registered surprise. His greasy head glowed under the bright light. He leaned back in the chair, exposing the expanse of his stomach, and slipped his hand underneath the waistband of his shorts, tapping his thumb on his bloated belly.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked. “Although, after the way you barged in here, doesn’t make me want to do much.”

  “Patricia is Pattie Dugan. She’s one of us,” she said, ignoring his snide remark and his hand in his shorts.

  “Pattie Dugan. Now why does that name sound familiar?”

  “Bob and Jean Dugan. They were lake regulars for years. Patricia is their daughter. She’s Pattie Dugan.”

  He shrugged. “And what of it?”

  “She’s not some outsider. She’s not a one-season wonder. And we have to do everything we can to help her.”

  He raised his hands as if to say, Why?

  She stared at him, confused by his nonchalant attitude. It suddenly occurred to her that he knew all along who Patricia was. He knew and it hadn’t mattered. “You knew all this time.”

  “Of course I knew. I make it my business to know everything about everybody who comes to my lake.”

  “It’s not your lake.”

  “You see, that’s where you’re wrong.”

  She rubbed her brow. She didn’t want to get into the same tiresome argument about lake ownership. She didn’t see the point, not now. “You have to get the men back on the lake, searching. You have to find her daughter,” Jo said. “She’s one of us.”

  “Do I?” Heil placed his hands square on the desk. He leaned forward. The chair creaked under his weight. He narrowed his eyes. “One of us? Is that who you think you are?” he asked. “Your family, your mother, especially, has given me nothing but trouble since she bought that cabin. So let’s get something straight. You’re not one of us. You never were.”

  Jo was taken back. “My family has nothing to do with this.”

  “Oh, I think they do,” he said. “Have you talked with your daughter? If anyone is to blame for stopping the search, it’s the kids who messed with those traps.”

  “She had nothing to do with that.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not,” he said. “I can’t prove it. I can’t prove a lot of things that happen on my lake—not legally anyway—which brings me around to you.” His eyes roamed her body.

  She crossed her arms, covering her breasts. “What about me?”

  “Don’t play innocent with me. You may have fooled everyone else around here, but I know who you really are. I know what you’re capable of.”

  “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

  He leaned across the desk. “I hear you like it rough.”

  “You’re disgusting.” She took a step back.

  “Am I?” He came up out of his seat and leaned farther across the desk, his large stomach resting on top, his eyes narrowing to mere slits. “You don’t think I didn’t know what you were doing with those boys under my Pavilion steps? On my beach? Why don’t you tell me what really happened to Billy Hawke?”

  She stumbled backward. “This isn’t about me or—Or Billy. This is about a little girl,” she stuttered. “And her mother.”

  His face burned red. “You’re damn right, it is. So why don’t you just stay out of it?” He reached across the desk as though he was going to choke her.

  She backpedaled out the door and ran through the Pavilion. People turned to stare. She ignored them and hustled down the stairs and into the parking lot. Heil was nothing but a pervert trying to scare her. That was all. He didn’t know anything about her or Billy.

  Heil was a dirty money-loving piece of shit.

  * * *

  Jo picked up a rock at the water’s edge and launched it into the lake. Plop. She picked up two more and threw them as hard as she could. Plop. Plop. She tried not to think about Heil and his accusations. She stared at the floating pier. On certain nights in the light of the moon, under a star-filled sky, the pier became a beacon in the center of the lake.

  When she had been younger, there had been countless times where she’d swim out to the pier and lie under the stars on a night much like tonight. Sometimes Billy had been with her. Sometimes Kevin had been there too. Other times, her favorite times of all, were the times when she had been alone, her thoughts drifting, floating on the water, at one with the universe. She missed that girl, the one with dreams, confident and strong—the one with hope for a future.

  She folded her arms. The water kissed her toes. She continued staring out at the lake, wondering what had happened to that girl she used to be, where she had gone wrong, remembering the very last time she had swum to the pier, the very last time she had seen Billy.

  * * *

  They had been drinking, all of them, under the steps of the Pavilion. Eddie had pulled a long shift at the bar, carrying cases of beer, rolling out empty kegs, exchanging the barrels for full ones, busing tables. But it had been a special night for Kevin. He had been asked by Tony, one of the guys in the band, to play a few songs and warm up the crowd. It had taken some coaxing, mostly from Billy to get Kevin to do it.

  “Don’t be a wuss,” Billy said. “You’re really good. You should be playing to a crowd.”

  Kevin had looked at Jo. She believed he was asking what she thought he should do. Of course she wanted him to play, but she also wanted to be sitting in the bar listening, not outside under the steps hearing his voice as though it were secondhand smoke. No, if he was going to play on a stage in front of a crowd, in front of other girls, she had to be there, front and center, listening firsthand, smoking the cigarette herself.

  “Why do you keep looking at my girl?” Billy asked, and ruffled Kevin’s hair as though he was a child and Billy a man. Although Billy was messing around, the tension between the two was palpable. She felt sure Billy sensed there was something between her and Kevin the last few days, something much more than friendship.

  “You should definitely play,” Jo said to Kevin. She moved to stand next to Billy, touching Billy’s arm and shoulder as she spoke. “It drives the girls wild when you do.” She was teasing Kevin, or maybe she was goading him to see what he would do, who he would choose, her or some other girl in the bar. Or maybe she was trying to hurt him because she really didn’t want him to play his guitar for anyone but her. She pressed her body against Billy, wanting to show her feelings for him, too. He was more than happy to wrap his arm around her and pull her close.

  “Go on,” she said to Kevin as though she didn’t care what he did, and nibbled Billy’s ear. She wasn’t playing fair, but she couldn’t help herself.

  Kevin’s eyes burned through her. “Yeah, I think I will play,” he finally said to Tony.

  “Well, all right. Let’s go,” Tony said, and Kevin followed him upstairs.

  She stepped away from Billy and lit a cigarette.

  “What is it with you lately?” he asked.

  “Oh, Billy. It’s nothing.” She ran her free hand through his thick blond hair and kissed his cheek, tasting the earthiness of the lake water on his skin. She buried her nose in his neck wondering what she thought she was doing. She wasn’t eating, barely sleeping, bouncing back and forth between the two. It was tearing her up inside, and yet she couldn’t stop. Her feelings for both were strong, but for very different reasons. Billy was her first love and would always have a place inside her heart. But it was with Kevin that she shared her private thoughts and where her hidden desires flourished. What was she supposed to do? She no longer knew what could make her happy. All she knew was that she couldn’t carry on this way much longer.

  They continued their little party under the steps—Billy, Jo, and Sheila—while Kevin’s guitar sang out through the night air. She l
onged to go upstairs and listen, but at sixteen and under the legal drinking age, she was sure to be thrown out.

  By the time Kevin finished his set and Eddie’s shift had ended, Sheila was bent over, throwing up most of the beer she had drank.

  “I better get her home,” Eddie said, and held Sheila’s hair from her face as she bent down and wretched again.

  After Eddie took Sheila home, an uneasy silence settled between Jo and the two boys. Kevin quietly leaned against the back wall in the shadows, nursing the same bottle of beer. Billy picked the label from his bottle.

  She suddenly felt tired of the whole damn thing. Or maybe she imagined the tension brewing between them. The ground tilted beneath her feet. How much did she have to drink? There was no way of knowing. She stumbled out from under the steps, stretched her arms overhead, and spun around. Maybe she should make them choose. Maybe she should make them fight over her. Maybe it was the alcohol that made her do it.

  “Catch me if you can, Billy,” she called. “You too, Kevin,” she said, and raced to the beach. She didn’t think about what she would do when they both reached her. Instead, once her bare feet hit the sand, she stripped down to her red bikini, wanting nothing more than to swim under the light of the moon and stars.

  She rushed into the cool water and dove under. She was a good swimmer, a strong swimmer. Gram had made her take swimming lessons ever since she was little. She had learned the basic strokes, how not to panic when she was in trouble, like the time her legs got tangled in lily pads and threatened to pull her under.

  It was safe to say she was comfortable in the lake as long as she didn’t dive too deep. Even the strongest swimmers, the lake regulars, lost their way in what lay below, in the dark, murky depths of the bottom.

  She swam to the floating pier with clean even strokes, despite the alcohol that made her clumsy on land. She climbed the ladder and pulled herself up, thinking it was up to the boys now. Let them fight it out and make the decision for her. She stretched out on the pier—one leg bent, the other straight. She flipped her long wet hair from her shoulders and leaned back on her elbows, posing in a way, and waited. And waited. What were they doing?

  She could see them on the beach, talking or arguing. It was as if they were deciding whether to join her. She was irritated. Fine, if that was the way they were going to play it, then neither could have her. She lay flat and looked at the stars. For a brief moment she tasted something sweet on the tip of her tongue. She licked her lips. In that second she felt totally, utterly, completely free. Her breath moved easily through her lungs. Her chest expanded, her heart swelled. She was free.

  Until she turned her head to the sound of splashing water and watched her freedom slip away as Billy and Kevin raced toward the pier to claim her.

  * * *

  Tonight, under the same moon and stars, the lapping water against the shore told a different story. She smoothed her wavy hair away from her face. The humidity made it frizz and crowd her cheeks. She should leave this place. She shouldn’t have stayed this long. What was keeping her here? So what if they had found some old bones?

  She turned back around toward the parking lot with every intention of heading straight to the cabin and then home to New Jersey. She’d return to work in the morning and beg Rose to cut her a break. She had only missed a couple of days. She was sure she could make it up to her.

  But then she noticed a woman sitting on the hood of a car. Although her face was hidden in the shadows, Jo recognized her. She recognized the slumped shoulders, the bowed head. In that moment Jo knew she wasn’t going anywhere. She would stay until Sara was found. She would stay because she owed it to Billy to see this through.

  “Do you mind if I join you?” she asked, and climbed onto the hood without waiting for a reply.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Caroline was hiding in her bedroom. Her hands were clasped behind her head, and she was staring at the ceiling. On occasion, in-between the chattering of Gram and the woman next door, the one with the two young boys, the sound of a plucked chord from her father’s guitar drifted into the room. Caroline wondered if the neighbor woman had brought her boys to the beach that day. She had heard people had been swimming and enjoying themselves even though Sara had not been found. Some of the newcomers even rented fishing boats.

  It didn’t seem right. She wondered if it was her fault. If she hadn’t let the snappers go, the lake might’ve been off-limits while the fishermen searched. For the first time she felt a pinch of guilt and questioned whether she had done the right thing. Gram thought she did, although that was before Heil reopened the beach, the lake, and convinced people things were back to normal and life moved on.

  She thought of Gram, how she protected Caroline’s secret and chased Sheriff Borg away by faking a heart attack. Caroline smiled with the knowledge that she now had two secrets she kept from her mother. Why should she tell her mother the truth about the turtles or Gram when her mother had never shared anything close to the truth with her?

  She rolled onto her side. Her stomach growled. She wanted to get up and find something to eat, but she wasn’t in the mood for adults and their stupid small talk. She wished the neighbor woman would leave. She wanted to talk to her father about Billy. She believed her father would at least answer her questions. Wouldn’t he?

  There was a light rapping at her window. She jumped up, thinking it was Adam. Maybe he had news from the lake. She pushed the window all the way up where it had been opened only a crack. She found Megan on the other side.

  “Where have you been all day?” Megan asked. “Can you come out?”

  She could, but she didn’t want to. “I don’t think so.”

  “Well, I’ll come in. Should I use the door so your parents know I’m here?”

  “Don’t bother.” Caroline pulled the screen out.

  Megan climbed through the window and grabbed Caroline’s hands. “I have news.” Her face was shiny and flushed. Her neck looked burnt and her scalp red. She had been out in the sun too long, tanning. Caroline felt a pang of envy. She was sporting a farmer’s tan. She hadn’t been in her bathing suit in four days.

  “Did they find Sara?” she asked.

  Megan furrowed her brow. “What? No, not that kind of news. This is better.” She squeezed Caroline’s hands and shook her arms wildly. “I have a boyfriend.”

  Now it was Caroline’s turn to furrow her brow. This was the better news? Really? “Who is it?”

  “Jeff.” Megan smiled and batted her eyes, the lids covered in the same blue paint. “We sat on the pier together at the beach today.”

  “Wait, you went swimming?”

  “Not exactly,” Megan said, and shrugged. “It’s a little weird going in the water knowing, you know, what’s in there.”

  “A little weird? God, Megan, it’s way worse than that.”

  “I know, I know.” She pretended to inspect her pink fingernails. “But my folks say there’s a good chance they’ll never find the little girl now anyway. And what are we supposed to do? Melt in the hot sun all summer long?”

  Caroline didn’t have an answer.

  “Anyway, what do you think of Jeff and me? Don’t we make an awesome couple? His eyes are, like, the deepest brown. Oh, and wait until you hear the best part.” She clutched Caroline’s arm. “He held my hand. I swear, he did it for, like, a couple minutes. And you know what comes next, don’t you? He’s going to kiss me.”

  “Do you want him to kiss you?” Caroline pulled a face.

  “Caroline! Of course I do.”

  “But you don’t even know him.”

  “I know he’s cute.” Megan picked up Caroline’s pillow and turned it over. “Have you ever practiced kissing?”

  “No.” She yanked her pillow from Megan’s hands. “And you’re not going to practice on my pillow. I sleep on that. Gross.”

  Megan rolled her eyes. “Don’t be such a baby.”

  “I’m not being a baby.” She hugged the pillow c
lose to her chest.

  They sat quietly, the silence becoming uncomfortable. Caroline tried to think of something they could talk about, something other than boys or Sara. What did they do other summers when things weren’t strange and difficult?

  “Want to play cards?” Caroline asked. They used to play cards, eat popcorn, and watch old movies with Gram. Maybe by doing the things they used to do, they’d stop talking about boys and kissing, she’d get her old friend back, and things would return to semi-normal.

  “I don’t think so. Do you want me to paint your nails? I brought some polish with me.” Megan pulled a small bottle of pink nail polish from her shorts pocket.

  Caroline shook her head.

  “Do you have any magazines? Teen Vogue?” Megan asked.

  She shook her head.

  They were quiet again until Megan stood and said, “Well, I guess I’ll get going.” Before she crawled out the window, she turned to look at Caroline. “I’m meeting Jeff at the Pavilion tomorrow. You can hang out with us if you want to. Or not. It’s totally up to you.”

  She found herself saying, “Yeah, okay.” Or rather, whatever.

  * * *

  Once Megan had gone, Caroline no longer heard voices in the kitchen. She found her father sitting alone at the table. The guitar was in his lap. He was smoking another cigarette. His brown wavy hair looked messy, as though he had raked it with his fingers more than once.

  “Where’s Gram?” she asked.

  “She went to lie down.” He turned a guitar pick over in his hand.

  She opened the refrigerator and stared at its contents, not finding much of anything other than old sandwiches. Normally, the shelves would’ve been stocked with leftovers from dinner: meatloaf, baked beans, potato salad, rice pudding.

  It was the first time she became aware that maybe Gram had been affected by the events at the lake, more so than she had let on. Otherwise, Gram wouldn’t have let their supplies run so low. Caroline decided she would offer to go to the Country Store for Gram tomorrow. It was a perfect excuse to search more newspapers for a headline she might’ve missed.