The Lake

Her face was ashen now. Clearly, news of her father’s attack had come as a bad shock. The man in the car smiled, then said gently, “Lady name of Lydia Ashmont, your next-door neighbor I believe, phoned us to say pass on the message to daughter Lisa that Tony’s in the hospital. Right? You are Lisa Bonetti? And your father is Tony Bonetti?”

“Sure. Take me to him. And please hurry.”

Lisa stepped into the car, leaned forward, and placed her purse by her feet. She fastened her seat belt, settled back, and turned to look at the driver.

“How long will it take?”

Smiling, he said, “Not long, Ms. Bonetti. Not long.” He touched the remote button and the driver’s window slid up with a neat, whirring sound.

He reached into the glove compartment, his side of the car, and produced a hypodermic syringe.

Turning to face the girl, he smiled into her eyes and emptied the syringe into her arm.

She gave a small gasp and slumped back in her seat.

Anyone seeing her would have said she was asleep.

Roughly, the driver lifted her head, making sure she was out for the count. He felt around in his jacket pocket, brought out a few sunflower seeds, and palmed them into his mouth.

Taking a brief look in the rearview mirror, he released the hand brake and eased away from the curb.

Chewing on the seeds, the man glanced at the clock on the dash.

3:05.

His lips curved in a smile.

Whole thing’d taken around three minutes.

Lisa Bonetti’s naked body was found four months later, in a remote, seldom-used spot on the Marin Headlands. Birds and other marauding wildlife had not made indentification easy. However, of one fact there was no doubt—the body was carved open from the throat to the pubic bone.

Soft tissue was mostly gone. But the vaginal cavity contained a wad of decaying organic material. The victim’s severed tongue, heart, and other internal organs were shoved inside it.

Tony Bonetti was heartbroken at the discovery of his daughter’s remains. Bright and early one morning, unable to come to terms with her terrible fate, Tony took his old service revolver, gripped the muzzle between his teeth, and blew his head clean off.

FORTY-SIX

“Where to? Anywhere special in mind?”

“You choose. I’m in your hands.”

“Okay. Hold tight. Just close your eyes and relax!”

Deana pushed back into the seat, snugging against the soft upholstery. Nice car, she thought dreamily. A two-seater Porsche coup.

A tangy whiff of leather hit her nostrils.

She felt a little shaky. Slightly out of her depth.

It was the first time she and Warren had been together like this. Up close and really together. Sure, she’d been to his house. Drunk his scrumptious cocoa. Become best buddies with his dog. A gal can’t get much closer, she told herself with a slow smile.

She stole a glance at Warren’s profile. Straight nose, firm chin. Lit up now by a passing car. He looks kinda sexy in that white shirt, she thought, the way it shows up against his tan.

The night was warm and sticky, and Warren had discarded his suit jacket, loosened his tie, and rolled up his sleeves. His forearms were strong, matted with dark hair, and well-muscled. She watched his hands holding the wheel loosely. Imagining how they’d feel wandering over her naked body…

Stop that!

Still, she couldn’t help thinking about it. A picture leapt into her mind. Warren, running his hands over her shoulders, holding her breasts, squeezing her nipples. His mouth opening onto hers…

A thought struck her. She frowned. Who knows, Warren might decide he was too old for her, smile kindly, and say, “Good-bye eighteen-year-old ex-high-school kid Deana. Go find somebody your own age…”

Warren felt her gaze and smiled. His eyes flashed as he turned to look at her.

“Will I do?”

“Do?”

“Yeah. You’ve been staring at me for the last coupla miles…”

“Sorry. Just thinking that you look kinda sexy. In the dark. With that intense expression on your face, you seem so intelligent and…mature, somehow.”

“I hope by that you don’t mean I’m too decrepit for a young gal like you?”

“On the contrary, I feel safe around you. Felt it that very first time you invited me to your house. You have this, I don’t know—gravitas, I guess you’d call it.”

“Wow! Sounds heavy.”

They’d dropped down to a crawl, climbing along a rutted road. For the first time she looked out the window.

Her breath quickened. She shivered. Almost panicked.

Goose bumps scurried up her body.

“Warren…”

“Uh-huh?”

“Where are we going?”

“I thought we’d maybe go over to Stinson Beach. Take a stroll in the moonlight…”

Deana’s face turned ghostly pale.

“Why, Deana, what is it?”

They’d arrived at a clearing now.

The clearing. The parking area for the outdoor theater…

The Porsche purred to a halt.

“Warren!” she wailed. “How could you do this to me?”

“Do what, Deana? For godsakes, what d’you mean?”

Dismayed, he looked at her. She’d drawn up into a small tight ball, her hands held clenched to her face.

“You brought me here, Warren. How did you know? Why did you bring me here?”

Tears coursed down her cheeks.