"Okay. You know, Abby, I can pretty much figure out from your skipping out on the party that you're not really interested in seeing me again, at least not the way we used to be," Chris said. "But I'd like to think that we can at least be friends. We had some good times together."
"Yeah, we did,” I answered, relieved. Maybe Chris had just sounded weird because he still carried a bit of a flame for me and didn't know how to say it. That could make anyone sound a little weird. "Thanks, Chris. I'll see you at the lake house. Can you send me a text with the address? That way I can put it into my GPS."
"Sure, I'll send it right away. It won't be hard to find, though. You shouldn't have a problem. See you in a bit."
Chris hung up, and my phone beeped a minute later as a new text message came in. I pulled over and read the text, copying the information over to my GPS system. A second later, I had my route, and I thought Chris was overestimating things a little bit. While the house wasn't exactly in the backwoods, the development was a decent distance from the other housing developments near the reservoir, and I wondered how long it would take for him to build all the infrastructure needed in order to get a good return on his company's investment. Even if he only put in a two-lane drive, it was nearly a half-mile from the nearest blacktop.
Pulling back out into traffic, it took me about a half-hour to make my way to the house. The last mile or so was over a washboard dirt road, and I was somewhat worried about the suspension in my car as I drove. The Chevy Camaro is meant for city streets, not dirt paths. I slowed down, taking my time and ensuring I'd make it out to Chris's lake house.
Pulling up, I saw that the house was a boxy two-story affair, like it had been prepared by someone to use as a quick vacation getaway on the lake and not as a permanent or long-term sort of domicile. I saw a Jeep parked in front of the house, which I figured was Chris's, although the house did have a garage. "Probably where the old owners kept their boat," I said, looking at the way the driveway sloped all the way down to the lake. "That's where I'd keep it when I wasn't on the water, at least."
I parked next to Chris's Jeep, honked my horn and got out, waving when Chris appeared in the window. There was something about the way he looked, like he'd been surprised at my appearance. His face was a bit flushed, and a light sheen of sweat was visible on his forehead. "Hey, Abby!"
"Chris, thank you for meeting me," I said, walking toward the back porch. Chris came out, his face pink with an excited but naughty gleam in his eye. I swear it looked like I'd just walked in on him reading a porn mag and enjoying himself to it. "Are you okay?"
"A bit of a hangover, and I was looking around when you pulled up," he said, wiping his face before scrubbing his right hand on his shorts, blinking then letting out a big breath. "I didn't realize just how much of a big ol' mess we left yesterday."
Chris offered his hand and we shook hands. Chris moved like he wanted to give me a hug, but stopped about halfway, backing away a bit awkwardly. "Sorry."
"It's all right," I said, half apologetically. Even though he'd been the one to break it off with me, there were obviously lingering feelings. "So did you find the camera?"
"It's not in the kitchen, I can guarantee you that," he said, shrugging. "That was half the reason I was looking in the dining room. Unfortunately for me, there is a lot of junk there. Mind giving me a hand?"
"I guess not," I said, heading inside with him. I saw what he meant immediately, as the clear aftereffects of a good party were littered all around the place. "Sheesh, how many people did you have here yesterday?"
"Only about a dozen or so," Chris replied. "Not as big as some of the parties I threw back in my college days, but I'll admit I was pretty well buzzed by the end of the night. That's probably why I can't remember where I put my damn camera. Heck, part of me is a bit worried about what you'll find once we do find it."
"Sure it's not in the lake?" I teased, and Chris laughed.
"No, nobody brought any swimming gear, despite what I'd told you,” Chris replied.
“Well, I'm just worried about my friend,” I said, sighing. “I hope she's okay. There's just something that doesn't feel right.”
Chris nodded and reached up, rubbing his temples. “I understand. I’m sure she’s fine though. Hey, you mind if I grab a drink?”
“I thought you were busy?” I asked, crossing my arms.
Chris waved me off with a relaxed laugh. “I am. I didn’t mean alcohol. I just meant some fruit juice. There's still some orange juice in the fridge from last night. Would you like some?”
“Sure,” I replied, trying to be polite. Besides, the day was warm, and I hadn't really had anything to eat or drink except for a mouthful of water when I'd quickly brushed my teeth. I could use it, and my grumbling stomach could use the calories. “If you have a big glass, that would be great.”