The Secrets of Lake Road

On their first day here, she had every intention of knocking on the Hawkes’ door, the peach pie she never got around to baking in hand, and introducing Sara to a real family, a loving family. She had never forgotten Billy, of course, but she also had never forgotten his older sister, Dee Dee, who had babysat Patricia every summer when she had been a child. Patricia’s parents had spent most of their nights at the Pavilion bar or the Lake House, dining, drinking, dancing. But to the Hawke family, the lake was home, not some place to whoop it up every night. And Patricia loved this about them. She had felt safest in their care.

She wished she had stayed in touch with them through the years. She was only ten years old when she last saw them. Her parents had come home fighting after a late night of drinking. Dee Dee had been babysitting. Her father had stormed into the Hawkes’ cabin just before dawn.

“We’re leaving,” he had said, and grabbed Patricia’s small overnight bag. Her mother had scooped her into her arms. She had stared over her mother’s shoulder at Dee Dee standing in the middle of the family room, the money Patricia’s father had tossed fluttering to the floor at Dee Dee’s feet.

They had driven home that morning never to return. Patricia had never gotten to say good-bye.

Things with her parents had gone from bad to worse when her father had lost his job. It had been the last family vacation for the Dugans.

*

Tonight, sitting on the hood of some stranger’s car staring at Hawkes’ cabin, her daughter still out there somewhere, she wondered how her plans could’ve gone so terribly wrong.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Jo pulled the old Chevy into one of the two spots in the far corner of the yard reserved for parking. She cut the engine. They had been at the hospital for the better part of the day. The sun had set hours earlier. The rush of adrenalin she had felt speeding behind the ambulance, the fear for Gram’s health, had all but faded. She was tired, but more than that, she was relieved.

Gram remained quiet the entire ride home. Caroline was silent in the backseat.

Kevin was sitting on the steps under the porch light waiting for their return. Jo had called from the hospital to tell him where they were, what had happened. He held a guitar in his lap, but he wasn’t playing. The sight of him sitting there with a guitar aggravated her. A part of her blamed that damned guitar for all her troubles no matter how crazy it sounded.

He rushed to the passenger side door to help Gram out of the car. He wrapped his arm around Gram’s waist. “You gave me quite a scare,” he said.

“I’m fine, really,” Gram assured him, and yet she let him help her. She was practically swooning with the attention.

He had always known how to suck up to her parents. Even Pop had thought Kevin was Jo’s savior, swooping in, marrying her when she had gotten pregnant, protecting her reputation, or rather, wasn’t it the family’s reputation Pop had been concerned about? She didn’t know nor did she care. Kevin had the same effect on Gram, making a huge deal about Gram’s cooking, jumping in to help with chores whenever he was around. He played the part of son-in-law so well, even Jo bought into it.

“So what did the doctor say?” he asked Gram once he had her seated at the kitchen table with a sandwich and glass of milk.

“They couldn’t find anything wrong,” Jo said, answering for Gram.

“You don’t sound too happy about that,” Gram said, but before Jo could respond, Gram continued. “The doctor thought it might’ve been a panic attack.”

“That doesn’t sound like you,” Kevin said.

“No, it doesn’t.” Jo crossed her arms. She suspected Gram had pulled one over on them, but most of all on Sheriff Borg. Maybe Gram had thought she was protecting Caroline by drawing attention to herself and away from her granddaughter. Jo had to admit, it seemed to have worked. Caroline remained suspiciously quiet. She looked over at her daughter. She was wearing a baseball cap, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. The front of her baseball shirt was stained with dirt.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Caroline said, and kissed Gram’s cheek before rushing into her bedroom.

Kevin picked up the guitar he had brought inside with him.

“Where did you get that?” Jo asked.

“I found it in the back of the closet when I was cleaning,” Gram said. “It has to be his. No one else plays. Why don’t you play something for us?”

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s a bit out of tune,” he said.

Jo bit her bottom lip. Kevin and his damned guitar had wooed her, charmed Gram, and enticed women in general every single time. Sure, he was handsome, strong, and lean, but put a guitar in his hands, and he became so much more. What was it about a music man? Whenever he played the thing, his passion, his voice, moved her in ways she didn’t want to think about. Hell, she wanted to throw her bra at him before he even plucked the first chord. Then again, she wasn’t wearing one.

“I’m going to shower,” she said.

*