*
Patricia walked into the kitchen, dragging her feet. Her blond hair fell in tangles around her face. She looked like a child in the waning light, standing in an oversize T-shirt and underwear. If it wasn’t for the healthy bumps underneath the shirt or her wide hips, she could’ve passed for her ten-year-old self.
“How long have I been sleeping?” she asked.
“A few hours.” Dee Dee dropped the empty beer can in the trash. She had smoked half a pack of cigarettes. She fingered the lighter, contemplating firing up another one.
Patricia shuffled to the table and sat down. She pushed her messy bed hair behind her ears. “Thank you,” she said. “For letting me stay here and for giving me your bed. I haven’t been able to sleep at the Sparrow. All Sara’s stuff is there and … I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do now.”
Dee Dee poured a glass of lake water and handed it to her. “There hasn’t been any news.” She was certain she would’ve heard news about Sara had there been any.
Patricia nodded. She sat quietly for a long time. The clock on the fireplace mantel ticked off the seconds one by one. A couple of ducks honked on the lake. The squirrels rustled in the trees behind the cabin.
“Listen,” Dee Dee said, and sat across from her. “I want to talk with Sheriff Borg about what you told me about Billy. I know now might not be the best time to bring this up, but I think it’s important. Sara’s drowning was an accident. You’re not to blame for an accident. But Billy’s drowning might not have been. We owe it to him to find out the truth.”
Patricia didn’t say anything right away. Her face was drawn. She stared at nothing. Dee Dee worried her hands in her lap, waiting, wondering if Patricia would hold up in an interrogation by Sheriff Borg even if she could convince her to talk with him.
She cleared her throat, scratchy from the dozen cigarettes she had smoked throughout the day. “What do you think?” she asked. “Do you think you’re up to talking to the sheriff?”
Patricia nodded. Someone knocked at the door.
Dee Dee turned. “Who could that be?”
Patricia’s hand shot out and grabbed Dee Dee’s wrist. “Sara,” she whispered.
She patted Patricia’s hand. “It’s going to be okay.” She went to the screen door and pushed it open to find Jo standing on her front porch.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
“Well, well, well,” Dee Dee said. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
“We need to talk,” Jo said.
“You bet we do.” Dee Dee stood aside to let her in. The door bang closed behind them.
Jo was somewhat surprised to find Patricia in Dee Dee’s kitchen. “I’m sorry to barge in,” she said to her. Patricia gave her a weak smile. Jo turned toward Dee Dee. “Is there somewhere we can talk in private?”
Dee Dee leaned against the countertop and crossed her arms, taking her usual defensive position. “Oh no, I think Patricia should be here for this.”
Jo hesitated. “Fine,” she said. “This really can’t wait.”
“No, it can’t.” Dee Dee pulled a chair from the kitchen table. “Sit,” she said.
Jo did what she was told and sat, leaning forward and resting her forearms on the table. Her leg bounced up and down. By the look on Dee Dee’s face, she thought perhaps Johnny had already been here. She had wanted to be the first to break the news to her about Billy being Johnny’s father. On some crazy level, she supposed she had hoped Dee Dee would help her make the situation easier for Johnny. But seeing Dee Dee’s stiff jaw and the anger in her eyes, she knew she had made a mistake. Dee Dee wouldn’t behave rationally about anything.
“So,” Dee Dee said, “Patricia told me some very interesting news today.”
“Patricia?” she asked, confused. How would Patricia know about Johnny? “What news?”
“She has proof you’re a lying bitch.”
Patricia flinched.
Jo rested her head in her hands. “Can’t we have a civil conversation?”
“Patricia saw you on the pier with Billy the night he drowned.” Dee Dee pushed off the counter, taking on a fighter’s stance.
“I don’t understand,” Jo said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I came here to talk about Johnny.”
“Forget Johnny. Patricia was here at the cabin that night. I was babysitting her. And you know we have a clear view of the floating pier from here.” She pointed her index finger in Jo’s face. “She saw you with Billy. He wasn’t alone on the beach like Kevin said. Kevin’s been covering up for you this entire time.”
Jo glanced at Patricia cowering in the chair, clutching Sara’s dolly. She looked like a scared child. “What did you tell her?” Jo asked her. Her tone was harsher than she had intended. But what could she have seen? She had been a child when it had happened.
“I…,” Patricia began, but Dee Dee cut her off.
The Secrets of Lake Road
Karen Katchur's books
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