The Lake

Pulling on a robe, she went to the hallway, feeling ice-cool tiles beneath her bare feet. She padded into the living room. Dawn had broken; its pale gray light made eerie moving patterns on the carpet.

She looked around…

Caught her breath…

Something was wrong.

The place was quiet.

Too damn quiet…

Okay, Officers Halliwell and Bodine were probably catching a few z’s. One in the den, the other in the kitchen, where she’d left them…

But somehow, it wasn’t the peaceful quiet of people asleep. This was more an overall, deathly hush. Like the world was holding its breath. Waiting for…what? Armageddon?

Impatiently, she shook her head and huffed out a long, low breath. Don’t be a fool, she told herself. You’re hyped up. Worried out of your skull about Deana.

And fearful that…

Something isn’t quite right…

She screamed.

Loud and long.

Even as she screamed, she remembered Edith Payne, shrieking like a wounded animal when she discovered Charlie’s broken body all those years ago…

“Oh no, oh NO!!!” Leigh sobbed out frightened little cries, her hands crushed to her chest. Her knees folded and hit the carpet with a sickening jolt.

She scrabbled over to the TV.

Grabbed at the photographs fanned out on the floor.

Horrified at what she saw…

Terrified.

DEANA!!! Oh NO!!…

A dozen or so black-and-white shots.

Deana, her face all bruised, lips cut and swollen. Eyes puffy, almost closed. Hair arranged neatly across her naked shoulders…curling around her breasts.

Oh my God…Deana!

Leigh snatched up a print, pressed it to her mouth, sobbing, her tears making smudges, carving lines down the bromide. She stopped. Looked at the others.

Picking them up, slowly, one by one. Her stomach twisting, her tormented eyes seeing the damage Mace had done…

Oh my God…

Must tell Mattie. There may be some sort of clue hidden in the photographs. Somehow. Somewhere.

Mattie would find something.

She knew Mace like no one else did.

Leigh stumbled to her feet, clasping the photos to her breast. Something else caught her eye.

Another photograph. One she knew well. Deana at Point Reyes Beach. In her new white bikini. Laughing at the camera.

Fuckin’ bastard Mace.

He’d had it all along.

Deana hadn’t given it to Warren…

Oh, shit! The goddamn fuckin’ evil beast! What a fool I’ve been—harboring a psycho like that!

Guilt welled up.

If she hadn’t fought with Nelson.

If she hadn’t taken up with Mace.

If she hadn’t gone to Aunt Jenny’s in the first place.

Grow up, Leigh. This isn’t your fault.

But maybe you should have listened to Deana. She’d never liked Mace anyway.

Now Deana was held captive by Mace.

And her dork of a mother never even guessed that he…

Leigh hurried into the hallway. To rouse her bodyguards. Tell them that Mace had sneaked in…

Could still be here…

Her blood ran cold.

The house was eerily quiet.

Huh!

Some bodyguards…Allowing an intruder to sneak past them…Come to that, they should be around; they must’ve heard me walking about?

Leigh quickly discovered why the two cops were silent. They lay sprawled in pools of blood, congealing loops of it sliding from gaping slits in their throats.

“Mattie. Mattie!!!” Leigh cried into the phone, willing her to pick up. She didn’t. Hurriedly, Leigh yelled at the answering machine. “Mattie. Please come over as soon as you can. Something’s happened here. Something serious. I want you here. NOW!”

Christ! No, Mattie. Just a conversation with her answering machine…A great start to the day—all alone in the house with those awful images of Deana playing on her mind—not to mention two stiffs for company.

Warren! He’ll know what to do…

Letting the prints drift to the floor, Leigh went through her little black book with trembling fingers.

She found Warren’s number. Dialed it.

Knees shaky, heart in her mouth, she prayed for Warren to speak to her.

“The Hastings residence.” A woman’s voice.

Sheena.

“This is Leigh West. I must speak with Warren.”

“You got it, sister.” Sheena’s response was instant. Like she was waiting for Leigh’s call.

A moment’s silence then.

“Leigh. Warren here. What is it?” His voice rose. “Deana?”

“Warren, please come over. Someone’s been here. An intruder. It has to be Mace. And…the two officers…”

“Yes?”

“They’re dead, Warren. They’ve been murdered.”

“Christ.” Warren’s voice was terse. “I’m coming over, Leigh. You called the cops?”

“I phoned Mattie. She’s not in. Left a message for her.”

“Mill Valley PD?”

“No. I’ll do it now…”

“Stay right there, Leigh. I’ll phone the cops from here, and I’ll be over in a coupla minutes. Don’t touch a thing.”

“He left photographs, Warren,” Leigh went on, sobbing.

“The bastard!…I’ll be right over, Leigh…”

Sheena turned to Warren. “I’m coming too. I need to know what’s going on.”

“Best stay put, Sheena. Might just complicate matters, you being over at Leigh’s house.”