The Lake

Come to think about it how the hell did he sneak up on me?

Mom hadn’t given him a key.

So how’d he do it?

Get in through the window?

What window? All their windows were intruder-proof. They opened only so far. And no farther.

He could have stolen a key.

The spare one Mom left under the magnolia bush by the front stoop?

Maybe he was simply being what he was. A good cop.

He’d made an impression of the key under the bush, and had another one made, Deana thought.

Intruders do that all the time.

She’d read about how they did it.

Lesson One: Don’t leave your house key under the magnolia bush.

Wonderful.

Mace going around with a key to our house!

Deana’s mouth went dry. Her heart leapt to her throat.

Mace can enter our home whenever he feels like it!

Whenever he wants to scare the pants offa me.

Our home isn’t safe anymore.

Deana dressed carefully. She brushed her hair and put on her makeup. But her heart wasn’t in it.

All she could think about was Mace.

Creeping into her room again.

When Mom was out and she was all alone.

FORTY-FOUR

Deana was setting place mats on the dinner table when the doorbell rang. It echoed through the hallway.

She froze.

It has to be Warren—but how can I be sure?

Could be Mace!

Nah. Mace wouldn’t return so soon after spying on me. Would he?

That’s just the kinda awful thing he would do.

She heard Mom go to the door.

Open it.

She was talking, her tone bright and friendly.

A low voice, interspersed with Mom’s highs, indicated an animated conversation was taking place.

Whoever it was, was standing in the hallway.

She heard Warren’s voice and huffed a sigh of relief. She raced through the living room into the hallway.

“Hi, Warren. You two met, I see!”

Mom was shaking Warren’s hand. She looked flushed and bright-eyed—as she always did with guests. That was the nice thing about Mom. She knew how to make people feel at home.

“Hi there, Deana. Your sister was just making me welcome.”

He winked at Deana.

Mom laughed, flushed some more, and went off into the kitchen.

They were alone.

Warren eyed Deana approvingly. “My,” he said. “You look stunning tonight.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “You should wear blue more often. Much more becoming than black.”

Deana grinned. She put a finger to her lips. “Don’t you dare…”

Warren smiled and crossed his heart.

“Mum’s the word,” he mouthed.

Deana led him to the living room. She motioned for him to sit on the sofa.

“Dinner isn’t quite ready yet,” she said. “Care for a drink?”

“Mmmm. Whatever you’re having would be great!”

Warren looked around, taking stock of the room.

As if he hadn’t seen it before.

“Fabulous view you have over there.” He nodded in the direction of the glass wall.

“Yeah. That’s what everyone says. White wine?”

“Sounds good to me,” Warren said, smiling at her.

She went to the kitchen and returned with two glasses of Chablis on a serving tray.

He’s a handsome guy, she thought, watching him take his glass. In a clean-cut kind of way. Dark slicked hair, gray suit, white shirt. A club tie of some sort.

Underneath all that, she sensed his taut, well-honed body. A squirm of excitement stirred between her legs.

Wondering how he’d look bare-ass naked.

“So you own a bookstore, Warren?” Mom said over dinner.

“That I do. For my sins.” Mom looked at him inquiringly. He laughed. “Sorry—a figure of speech! I love my work, Ms. West…”

“Leigh, please,” Mom said with a smile. “Makes life a lot simpler.”

“Leigh. Nice name, if I may say so.”

Deana glared at him.

Warren smiled back, sending her a sly wink at the same time.

I know he’s just being friendly, she thought. And Mom does have this effect on people. I should be used to it by now.

But she did feel a little on edge.

It’s that asshole Mace, she decided.

Suddenly appearing like that.

Scaring the pants offa me.

Well, not quite.

But he sure had me spooked there for a while.

What had really spooked her, though, was the way Mace had looked.

Zoned out.

Unsure.

As if he’d been really sorry about going into her room like that.

She stole a glance at Mom. She looked happy enough. Perhaps she hadn’t ever seen Mace as I saw him this afternoon.

Maybe I should let it stay that way…

Deana wanted to forget, but found she couldn’t. Mace coming at her like that was something that worried her a lot.

Warren and Mom were talking books. How Mom liked historical novels and biographies; she’d been searching for something on Bob Dylan. Warren said he’d look out for this really good one he’d heard about.

“Wonderful meal, Leigh,” Warren said, wiping his lips on his napkin.

“Thanks, Warren. Glad you enjoyed it. Duck a l’orange prepared this way is a Bayview special. Goes down well with the clientele.”

“Mom,” Deana put in. “Would you mind awfully if Warren and I went for a drive somewhere?”

Leigh’s face paled slightly.