The Secrets of Lake Road

“I wanted to stop by to let you know they’ll have to trap more turtles,” he said. “That is, if you still want them to. I can put an end to it if you say so, and we’ll let the recovery team continue as they have been.”


Patricia was quiet. The only sound was the splattering rain on the roof and the occasional clap of thunder. After awhile, without looking at him, she said, “I want them to do whatever it takes. I want my daughter found.”

“Okay.” He put his hat back on and turned toward the door. “I’ll let the men know.”

“Wait,” Patricia said. “I’m coming with you.” She chased after him, leaving Jo all alone on her knees in the kitchen.

*

As soon as the sheriff and Patricia were out of sight, Jo rushed back to The Pop-Inn, the pouring rain drenching her for the second time that morning. She pulled open the screen door, letting it slam behind her. Kevin sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee. He looked like hell.

“Forget your umbrella?” he asked, and smiled, but he must’ve seen something on her face, because he immediately furrowed his brow. “What’s wrong?”

She didn’t have time to explain. She darted into Caroline’s bedroom. Her daughter wasn’t in bed. She plucked the wet dirty clothes off the floor. She searched the room for the muddy sneakers. They were nowhere to be found.

“Where’s Caroline?” she called to Kevin, and tossed the dirty clothes into the sink. There wasn’t time to take them to the Laundromat. She turned on the faucet.

“She took off on her bike a little while ago,” he said. His voice was deep and raspy from a night of drinking and smoking and singing. “I didn’t think she should go out in the storm, but like mother like daughter.” He leaned against the wall outside the bathroom door, sipping coffee. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

She didn’t know where to begin; Patricia asking about Billy, the sheriff, or that Jo suspected Caroline had released the fishermen’s snappers. Instead she said, “Do you know where she went?”

The screen door slammed.

She pushed past him. “Caroline,” she called, but found Gram instead.

Kevin walked up behind her, and she suddenly felt trapped between the two. She pulled on her wet cotton shirt, which stuck to her breasts and constricted her chest, the collar tightening around her neck.

“Is someone in the bathroom?” Gram asked. “I hear water running.”

Kevin shot out of the kitchen to turn off the water so the sink wouldn’t overflow. Jo backed away from Gram. The distance was enough to open her throat and allow the air to return to her lungs. She pulled her damp hair from her face.

“Where’s Caroline?” Gram dropped a bag onto the table.

“That seems to be the million-dollar question,” Kevin said, returning to the kitchen. “What’s in the bag?”

“Sneakers,” Gram said.

“But how…” Jo started to ask, but Gram held her hand up to stop her. Someone must’ve tipped Gram off. Maybe that was why she had been on the phone earlier.

“I don’t know anything for sure,” Gram said.

For once, Jo and Gram were on the same side. She peeked into the bag at a pair of white sneakers. Caroline would have to get them a little dirty so they wouldn’t look so new. “Where are her old ones?” she asked.

“I tossed them,” Gram said.

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Kevin asked, and set his coffee mug down in the sink. He folded his arms and looked back and forth between them.

Johnny walked into the kitchen, scratching his head. His dark hair was almost to his shoulders, and the way it swooped to the side was a reflection of Jo’s own hair, albeit a more masculine version yet with a hint of something feminine, too. Jo knew the girls his age thought it made him look sensitive.

“Why is everyone looking at me?” Johnny asked, and yawned.

“Have you seen your sister?” Gram asked.

“Why? What did she do?” He opened the refrigerator door and grabbed a gallon of milk. Then he pulled a box of cereal and large bowl from the cabinet, plucked a spoon from the drawer, and sat at the table.

“She didn’t do anything,” Jo said. At least, she hoped. “But we need to find her.”

“Try her phone,” Johnny said through a mouthful of cereal, milk dripping from his chin.

“I can’t get a signal.” She looked at Kevin. “Will you take Johnny and search the colony? I’ll check to see if she’s at the lake. Gram, you wait here in case she comes home.”

Johnny dropped his spoon. “In the rain?”

“The storm is almost over,” Kevin said and gave Jo a worried glance. “Are you ever going to tell me what’s going on?”

“Later,” she said. “Just go.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE