Still …
He walked back up toward the Blairs’ cabin.
Knocked at the door. Quiet. He tried the door knob.
Though he knew that would look odd, what was he going to do? Just walk in?
“Hey, Tom! You guys at home?”
No answer. Must be out enjoying the day, which was indeed gorgeous. Sun filtering through the pine trees, the lake in the distance shimmering.
A bit of paradise.
Last night started to seem more and more like a bad dream. Something that happened in the dark and you forgot by morning.
He started down for the lake again.
* * *
Christie turned and, shielding her eyes, looked at Jack walking down to their blanket and the beach chairs. When he caught her looking, he tried to hide the limp.
“Morning!” she said.
“It is, isn’t it?”
She turned to give the lake a glance, glistening jewels of light dancing on it.
“Simon is…?”
“In the water. Made some new friends. He’s having a ball, Jack.”
He could see Kate parked near the lifeguard stand, acting as though she was reading a book.
“Well, with the crackerjack lifeguards here, best keep an eye on him.”
“Yeah.” She seemed distracted.
He sat down beside her on the blanket.
Then she looked at him again.
“Jack, about last night—”
“Yeah, I enjoyed that. And you?”
“Not that. I mean … I did. Of course. It was amazing. But I was thinking about Lowe’s offer.”
He didn’t say anything.
“I mean, look at this place. Maybe you should …
“After that attack?”
“Is it any worse than your precinct?”
“No. Not really. Still, that was a major fuckup.” A little girl digging in the sand close by lifted her head at hearing the dreaded F-bomb.
“Oops,” he said. “Anyway, a fence failing? Could have been bad.”
“But it wasn’t. And as head of security, you could make things better. We’d have sun, this air, the water, food—I mean, I’ve been thinking…”
“Apparently.”
“Why would we go back?”
“It’s our home.”
She took a few seconds to respond to this.
Then: “What kind of home? Fenced in, too, but just rows of houses, scared people, and you tell me that things are getting worse.” Another pause. “How long?”
He knew what the rest of the question was.
Jack broke off from her gaze, out to the lake. Simon dived into the cool, clear water. Like a regular kid. Back in the good old days.
“I don’t know.”
“Jack, tell me you’ll think about. That we can talk about it again.”
From her tone, he knew it wasn’t so much a question.
She was saying something important to him. And he’d have to do just that.
Think about Lowe. And his offer.
“Seen the Blairs?” he said.
“No. Not down here.”
He nodded.
“You like Tom?”
“He’s okay,” Jack answered. “Just good to have someone to talk to who’s not a cop.”
He saw boats dotting the lake. It all looked picture perfect.
“Maybe we’ll do the boats, after lunch.”
* * *
In the lodge’s great dining hall, Jack looked around.
“What’s wrong?” Christie said.
“I still don’t see the Blairs.”
Christie started scanning the room.
“Think they left?”
“Could have been spooked by last night. Still, you’d think they’d leave a note or something.”
“Strange…”
Ed Lowe came to the microphone. Jack expected him to talk about last night’s incident.
Instead, he started immediately with …
“Hello, Paterville families!”
As if nothing had happened at all.
29
Afternoon
“Which boat do
“I like this one!” Simon said, pointing at a rowboat.
“That’s just a rowboat,” Kate said. Then, definitively, “I like this canoe.”
A line of three canoes sat together. Out on the lake, a few other boats went back and forth lazily. No motorboats here.
“Canoe looks good to me,” Jack said.
A boat attendant dressed in a Paterville polo shirt and jeans walked over. The name tag read: FREDDY.
“Know what kind of boat you want?” he said.
“One canoe to go.”
Freddy nodded and walked back to the middle of the small dock where an umbrella made shade for a chair and storage chest. Jack watched the guy open the chest and start digging through a pile of life preservers.
“Okay,” Jack said, turning to Simon and Kate. “A few things about canoes.”
“I still like the rowboat.”
“Next time. So, canoes tip easily. Shift your weight too fast, stand up—and we all go swimming.”
