The Lake

Then he got it.

Whatever had happened to Deana a short while ago, had happened here, in this clearing.

He pulled her gently to him, making soothing noises as if she were a child waking scared from a nightmare. She shook, sobbed, and cried all at the same time, her face wet and shiny with tears.

He waited till she’d calmed down a little.

“Take me back, Warren,” she said quietly. “Please. Take me away from this place!”

“Sure, honey. Just don’t cry anymore. You’re safe with me.”

Deana snuffled, and he produced a tissue from the glove compartment. She took it, gratefully, and dabbed at her face. “I must look a real freak,” she said with another sob.

“You look wonderful, Deana. You always do.”

“Thanks, Warren,” she said, still sniffing loudly. A pause, then: “I think I owe you an explanation.”

“Not necessarily. But I can guess. Something to do with what happened to you—and your mom?”

She nodded, her lips still trembling.

“No need to explain. Don’t want you upsetting yourself any more. I’m just sorry I chose this place, is all.”

“Not your fault. I said you choose. Didn’t say anything about not going anywhere near Mt. Tam. So don’t blame yourself. You weren’t to know. But can we go home now, please?”

“Sure,” he said, turning the key in the ignition, still looking at her anxiously. “Sure you’re okay now?” Deana nodded, snugged back into her seat again, and stared out into the night. Remembering Allan.

How he’d opened the car door for her, and how there hadn’t been a cat in hell’s chance of him escaping.

Then the old Pontiac, whooshing by, lifting him off his feet.

Allan. Allan…

Another sob shook her body. Vivid pictures flashed through her mind. She saw herself running away from Allan.

Saving my own skin…

He could’ve been alive.

Maybe I could’ve saved him.

Don’t think about it anymore…

She gasped.

Something…

Someone was back there, in the bushes. The car moved on past. Warren maneuvered it slowly, carefully over the ruts.

Still Deana could see it…the white face, with dark holes for eyes. No, not dark holes. It, whatever it was, had an eye. It had looked at her. Its mouth gaping wide…Its scrawny hands parting the bushes…

Then it faded into the dark beyond.

She turned around. Stared hard.

Saw nothing.

She frowned.

The face had been a lot like Nelson’s. Thin, white. Eerie. Positively ghoulish in the dark shadows.

It can’t be Nelson, she told herself.

Nelson’s dead.

Mom identified the body.

Her breath evened out. Her mind had been playing tricks again. Coming here hadn’t been one of Warren’s greatest ideas.

Glancing across at him, she met his eyes. He smiled gently. “Okay now?”

“Okay,” she said quietly.

She was still shaking, though.

Thinking about Nelson.

But a dead Nelson, she reminded herself. Hope I can sleep tonight. Hope I don’t see him again. Walking past my window, waving his hatchet.

Bullshit, Deana.

Pull yourself together.

Nelson’s dead.

This is two weeks on. We’re safe now. Mom’s okay. She’s got Mace, ’n’ I’ve got Warren to keep me company. I hope. Unless I’ve scared him off by tonight’s little performance.

“And as we lie here,” Allan’s voice whispered in her head. “Our naked bodies all sweaty and tangled…”

Oh my God.

Stop it.

Allan’s dead. Gone. Please God don’t let me go over that again…

She looked at Warren, felt the bumps and jolts as the car sped downhill, bouncing over the ruts. He met her gaze, smiled, and said, “You’ve got me now, Deana. I’ll take care of you.”

FORTY-SEVEN

“Leigh, tell me about your pregnancy. The early days, when you were making out, all alone…”

There was enough of a pause for Leigh to look up, puzzled.

“Go on,” she said quietly.

“Sorry, Leigh. Does my asking questions upset you? I’m just interested in you, is all. I want to know everything that ever happened to you. That make sense?” He tilted his head, smiling quizzically.

Leigh returned the smile. “Sure it does, Mace. But I already told you all there is to know about my misbegotten youth. I was a bit wild. Got pregnant. Those days folks took it a little more seriously than they do now. I was sent away and—well, you know the rest.”

Leigh shrugged, then smiled. It was an end to the matter, as far as she was concerned. “Why don’t I get us another bottle of wine from the fridge.” She left the sofa and made for the kitchen.

Reaching for clean glasses and setting them on the serving tray, she began to feel good and warm inside. She was glad she’d changed her mind and called Mace when Deana and Warren had left after dinner.

She’d wanted to relax. What better way to do it than with Mace by her side?

Ten o’clock.

Another hour or so and Deana’ll be back. Must remember to ask her about the missing photograph. Not tonight, though. Leave that until tomorrow.

Bring her home safely, Warren, she thought with a shiver.

Please God, don’t let it be like last time…

She looked up, saw Mace standing in the doorway.