* * *
LAKE JUSTICE
by
DEVON ELLINGTON
Amber Quill Press, LLC
http://www.amberquill.com
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Lake Justice
An Amber Quill Press Book
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author's imagination, or have been used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Amber Quill Press, LLC
http://www.AmberQuill.com
http://www.AmberHeat.com
http://www.AmberAllure.com
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.
Copyright © 2014 by Devon Ellington
ISBN 978-1-61124-591-2
Cover Art © 2014 Trace Edward Zaber
Published in the United States of America
Also by Devon Ellington
Elusive Prayers
Severance
Tracking Medusa
Dedication
To those who take action to right wrongs
Acknowledgements
Thanks so much to Amber Quill Press for including me
in the family, and my terrific editor, E.J. Gilmer. Thanks to
my wonderful readers, who follow me from genre to genre,
The Cape Cod Writers Center and the National Marine Life
Center for all their support and encouragement.
LAKE JUSTICE
* * *
The blue-black waters of Lake Justice shimmered, mottled with greens and grays. One could see the greens, browns, reds, and golds of the forest stretching around the long, wide lake, but not the farthest shores, which shimmered at us with a ghostly hint of banks. I walked to the edge of the lake, where the grass ended, and a pebbly, slightly sandy narrow stretch began. The lake spread out before me, glistening, inviting. It was so mesmerizing that I nearly stripped off my clothes right there and plunged in. So what if there was no salt? It was water, there was a lot of it, and it was my home element.
I heard something then, a whisper. At first I thought it was a breeze, but it was too substantial for air. I thought it was my name, but couldn't be sure. The next words were distinct, though: "Help us."
I spun around. I didn't see anyone. I got that all-too familiar prickle on the back of my neck. We weren't the only ones here, and some of the others weren't alive.
"Aunt Bronwyn?" Jamie shaded his eyes with one hand and looked over toward me. "We need your help putting up the tents."
I didn't speak; I wasn't sure I could. I nodded and returned to the van, where the kids and the chaperones were unloaded camping equipment.
* * * *
"You're kidding, right?" I stared at my godson, careful to make sure my bottom jaw didn't dangle down to the floor. "Do you have any idea how inappropriate I am as a chaperone for a bunch of kids? In addition to the whole Wiccan thing, which will probably cause some of the parents to picket your school."
"Okay, first of all, you're way cooler than most of the parents, even when you kick kid ass for breaking rules." My twelve-year-old godson Jamie tossed a lock of dark brown hair that tended to obscure his view of the world as he listed his arguments on his fingers. "You treat us like people, not like action figures or small morons. Second, my school's full of parents with alternative lifestyles, everything from Santeria to same sex parents to Quakers to that family that thinks they're descended from aliens. That's why Mom moved us up here and not somewhere like-- Well, whatever area I list is going to be insulting. No one's gonna care you dance naked around a bonfire once a month."
"Hey! That's only a couple of times a year." I couldn't help smiling at him. "And how did you know that?"
"I heard Mom grilling you about it one day. Yeah, I eavesdropped. Deal." He tossed his hair back and continued, "Third, it's a small group of the really smart kids in the school, and you're the one who convinced Mom to let me be part of it, even though most of them are older. Fourth, we're going camping on a lake--"
"I don't camp."
"But you're really into nature!"
"Yeah, when I can hike during the day and enjoy it from the porch of the inn, with a dry vodka martini in my hand. I don't think that'll go over so well."
"It's for one weekend. You can be in a tent for one weekend. It's up on Lake Justice; it's really pretty up there--"
"It's autumn. It'll be really cold up there."
"You're tough enough to deal. Plus, you've got a way of keeping us in line so we don't feel like we're in prison. The two teachers who are in charge, Mr. Everett and Mr. Andrews, are both new to the school this year. The trip was their idea, and, if it's a disaster, it'll never happen again. Mrs. Williams is a little bossy, but she's okay. Her daughter, Felicia, is the only other one my age, and she's a little strange, but she's not too bad. I mean, we kinda lucked out on our chaperones this time." Jamie sighed. "And you know Mom had to drop out because Dad flaked again on visitation weekend, so there's no one to take care of the twins, who are sick anyway."
"I guess I'd rather be out in the woods with you than deal with Ivy and Patience puking all weekend." I sighed. "Okay. I'll do it."
"Thanks." Jamie hugged me. "You won't regret it. And thanks for not pointing out what a putz Dad is all the time."
"Hey, I made a promise to your mom not to talk against your Dad to you guys, no matter what I really think. He is your Dad, and he loves you, in his own weird way."
"We'll be really good." Jamie looked up at me. He was twelve, he was growing, but I was tall, especially in heeled boots.
"No, you won't. You're teenagers. You can't help it." I shook my head, wondering what I'd gotten myself into.
* * * *
The next morning (nothing like advance warning), I was sitting in a mini-van with half of the group and Kyle Everett, one of the chaperones. Fay Williams and Mark Andrews were in charge of the other van, leading us.
Felicia Williams was with us, after saying, "Eww, I don't want to ride with my mom," and climbed into the seat next to Jamie, her dragon and snake jewelry clanking, smelling of patchouli, and making Jamie uncomfortable in a way that just tickled me. Also in our van was a fifteen-year-old guy named Tobias with flaxen hair, a motorcycle jacket and an attitude; a quiet, thin girl of about fourteen named Louisa, who sat in the van reading a thick volume on local plant and animal life; and a squirmy, skinny, hyper thirteen-year-old named Bertram who'd puked in the parking lot before we even started.
"I get car sick," he said.
Jamie rolled his eyes. "We're not in the car. We're still on the ground."
"Yeah, it's really gonna suck when we're driving."
Jamie looked at me with desperation. I pulled something wrapped in cellophane out of my backpack and then two small, thin bands with snaps. I handed them to Bert. "Suck on the candy. It's ginger, an antispasmodic. And put on the bracelets. They're magnetic and help prevent motion sickness."
"You're the hocus pocus lady, aren't you?" Bert asked, accepting them. "My next door neighbor, Mrs. White, is terrified of you."
"Hocus pocus lady? Geez." Jamie shook his head.
"Oh, I remember Mrs. White." My lips twitched. "Nasty old gossip. She wrote what used to be called 'poison pen letters' to someone and tried to get money out of them. I convinced her that wasn't a good idea."
"How?" Bertram's brown eyes were round, looking too large for his thin face.
I winked at him. "Trade secret." That got even the attention of Tobias-with-the-attitude and
Felicia.
Now, traveling in the van, with a heavy, wet snow starting, I glanced back. All five kids were busy keeping themselves entertained, with five sets of ear buds trailing down to their pockets or bags. Ah, the age of the iPod.
"So this trip was your idea?" I turned to look at Kyle Everett. I figured he was a couple of years closer to forty than I was. His face was smooth, but with a few lines around the eyes and the mouth that indicated a sense of humor. He was taller than my own nearly six feet, which was impressive in itself, and leanly muscled. Although he didn't wear a ring, he must be married. He had that groundedness that comes from having a woman do one's laundry.
"Well, Mark and I concocted it between us," Kyle admitted, flashing me a smile. He had dark brown hair and disconcertingly green eyes. "I was contracted to teach ninth grade social studies this year when Ellen Nagle took a sabbatical. I'm kind of a history geek, and the people behind the events fascinate me. What makes them tick, you know? Anyway, the principal and the school board wanted to create a special program for gifted students, mixing ages."
He flipped on the lights and increased the windshield wipers' rate. "It falls under the humanities banner, and it meets twice a week during a designated study hall period. It's for exceptional students from the whole school. Technically, that was supposed to mean just the 'high school' segment of the population, but Felicia, Jamie, and Bertram petitioned to be allowed in, and they met all the requirements, so here they are, even though they're in middle school. The seminar covers a lot of topics, from history to literature to art to astronomy to architecture.
"Mark teaches tenth grade science and coaches the lacrosse team--he's new this year, too. Two of his players, Philip and George, over in his van, are in the class. They don't say much in class, but I guess they like it enough to talk about it during practice. Lake Justice has a fascinating history, so we thought it might be fun to combine some fitness and some humanities over a weekend."
"What kind of history?" I felt a prickle, like I do before I'm about to plunge into something that perhaps needs further thought.
"Ah, all will be revealed," he teased. "Don't want to give anything away before it's time. I'm surprised you don't know about it--I thought you lived with Jamie's family."
I wasn't quite sure what he was getting at. "I'm here for a couple of months. Ever hear of Taggett Island? It's off the coast of Maine. Small island, small year-round population, bigger in summer. Anyway, I bought one of those crazy old Victorian gothic houses, like an Addams Family house. It's undergoing restoration.
"Caroline needed help moving here to Vermont after her divorce, getting the kids settled, finding her feet in her new job. It's not like the bonehead ex ever keeps his word. I'm staying with them through Thanksgiving. My house should be livable by then, and I'll go back to Maine. I'm much more of a rocky, sea-swept person than an inland one. I need to be close to the ocean."
"Lake Justice is pretty big. I think you'll like that." He slowed down, as a figure appeared on the side of the road. "Is that a young woman hitchhiking?" He frowned as the van ahead of us sped up, passing her. She jumped back to avoid being spattered with slush.
"Hitchhiking?" Bertram looked up. "I thought that went out in, like, the seventies."
"There are always people who will try it." I looked at the thin young woman, with long, dark hair caught up in a braid and wearing an oversized rucksack. "She must be miserable in this weather."
"Go ahead and pick her up," urged Felicia.
"What if she's, like crazy or something?" Bert asked.
"It's okay. I've got a knife."
Kyle's eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror to look at her. "You brought a weapon on a school trip?"
"It's camping. Shouldn't I have a Swiss army knife?" she flashed back. "Shouldn't I be prepared for anything?"
"We brought plenty of equipment--"
"She's right," I cut Kyle off. "We're not in the school building. We're going into the wilderness."
"Lake Justice is hardly the wilderness."
"It doesn't have plumbing or a motel. It's wilderness. We're camping."
"The kids aren't supposed to be armed."
"If you were worried a knife fight would break out, you shouldn't have suggested camping." I wasn't about to give an inch. "Besides, I've got a knife, too. Strapped to my ankle." I wasn't about to tell him about the other knives I had stashed in my luggage.
"Got a permit for that?"
The question threw me for a loop, but I quickly recovered. "Honey, I've got carry permits for things you couldn't even imagine."
"And why would that be?" Something about his cool, flat delivery struck me as odd for a teacher.
"Because I have a long and complicated history."
"I see." He pulled up a little ahead of the young woman.
I rolled down my window. "Can we give you a ride? At least as far as the entrance to Lake Justice?"
"That's perfect." She hurried forward as Felicia slid open the van door. "I'm meeting someone there."
Felicia leaned down to accept the rucksack, and the young woman stepped into the van. She looked like she was in her early twenties, but there was something worn and aged about her. Jamie and Louisa shifted farther into the van to make room for her on the seat. She slid the door shut and settled back.
"Thanks," she said. "It's getting nasty out there."
"Dontcha know it's, like, totally dangerous to hitchhike?" Bertram leaned forward. "Like, you could die or something."
"Watch out for him 'cause he might puke on you," said Jamie.
Gee, did he learn that dry, sarcastic tone from me?
"Will not! I'm 'kay now 'cause of that stuff Ms. Rowan gave me."
The young woman smiled, and her eyes lit up, making her look younger. The conversation continued in a light vein, and I didn't pay attention to it. It passed the time, and there was no need for me to contribute. We turned into the Lake Justice campground. We let the young woman out, with her thanks, and stretched our legs, while Kyle and Mark Andrews sorted out the campground. The snow had lightened back up to sleet, thank goodness. From where I leaned against the van, thus able to keep most of the kids in view, I could also peer into the office area. I didn't like the way the caretaker eyed us, especially the young women in the group.
I stood up straight and rounded the van to find Fay Williams, who, unfortunately, was in the middle of a parent-daughter melee.
"I'm just not Fawn, Little Miss Perfect Daughter." Felicia's eyes filled with tears. "I know you'd rather trade me in for someone like Tessa, but you're stuck with me!" She stomped past me.
Fay shook her head, making the curl in her blonde ponytail dance. "I just don't know what to do with her. I do love her for herself--most of the time, anyway."
I shrugged. "She's a teenager, and being a teenager sucks. I should've been drowned the year I was fourteen. I was a disgusting human being. Fortunately, I've outgrown it. Well," I amended with a laugh, "most of it."
She laughed, too. "Were you looking for me?"
"Yeah. I wanted to give you a heads-up. The caretaker gives me the skeeves. He keeps eyeing the girls. The men will think I'm overreacting, but you know what I mean."
"Yes, I do know what you mean," Fay said, "and thanks for picking up on it so quickly."
Kyle and Mark returned with directions to our area, and we piled back into the vans and drove farther into the woods. The leaves were already burnished reds and golds, there was a snap in the air, and even the sleet let up enough to let glimmers of sunlight through. We pulled into the parking area and, getting out of the vans, gasped as we caught sight of the lake.
* * * *
The boys shared one tent; the girls shared another. Mark and Kyle shared a tent, and Fay and I shared a tent. I understood Jamie's comment about Fay's organizational capabilities: she'd brought a round, domed tent with plenty of room for all of our belongings and probably a few extra people. She'd even been thoughtful enough to bring an extra cot, so
she wouldn't be on a cot while I was on the ground. I appreciated it. I unrolled my sleeping bag on top of the borrowed cot, stuffed the pillow in, and dumped my duffel underneath.
"Mrs. Williams? Ms. Rowan?" Tessa Johnson stuck her head into the tent. She was a junior, a tall, svelte athlete. Felicia was right--she even looked more like Fay than Felicia did. "I'd really like to go for a run, but Amy doesn't want to, and Mr. Andrews and Mr. Everett said I can't go by myself."
Amy was Tessa's best friend, and as far as I could tell, Amy wasn't interested in anything that didn't have to do with a boy or a Hostess Twinkie.
"I'm not going to override the other chaperones," Fay responded. "It's too dangerous to go alone."
"I'll go," I offered. "But on one condition: you don't wear your iPod."
"Uh, yeah, okay." Tessa looked confused. "But why?"
"We're out here camping," I pointed out. "We're supposed to be aware of our surroundings. And, since they're unfamiliar surroundings, we need to be alert." I left out the whole "undead neighbors" thing until I gathered more information. Maybe that was something I could do while we were out running.
"Sounds logical," Tessa agreed.
I sat on the cot, slipped out of my boots and into a pair of running shoes I pulled from my duffle. I was careful to make sure my jeans covered my ankle sheath.
"You sure you want to do this?" Fay asked. "We can just say no and leave it at that."
"Unless I'm needed here to put up another tent or unpack the cooking utensils or something, I'm happy to go."
"Okay, then"--Fay smiled at me--"you two have fun."
I followed Tessa out of the tent and nearly walked into a sulky Jamie. "What's your problem?" I asked. "You look like you ate the sun and it gave you indigestion."
"I'm not five anymore."
Lake Justice Page 1
