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SIXTY-ONE
WIDOW LAKE
Lorna Bea was so mad she could spit. Her daddy could be so mean sometimes.
“I told you to stay in your room and to not go outside,” he shouted as he hauled her into the house.
Nana looked up from her knitting. “Son, what in the world’s going on?”
“It’s dangerous out there and I gave her orders to stay inside.” He whirled toward Nana, his face ruddy.
That was another word she’d learned. Ruddy meant your skin turning red from being mad.
“When I’m not here,” he barked, “I expect you to make sure she doesn’t go out.”
“I try,” Nana said. “But it’s a pretty day and I thought we came to the lake to enjoy it. Kids need fresh air.”
“Not when a killer’s on the loose,” his voice boomed.
Nana dropped her knitting into her lap. “What do you mean? A killer’s on the loose?” Nana whispered. “I thought the man they found in his car died years ago.”
Lorna Bea’s daddy paced across the kitchen floor, the wood floors creaking from his muddy boots. “He did. But someone found bones beneath that shed where Lorna Bea rescued the little girl next door. For all we know, whoever put them there is still around and might come back for the rest of the body.”
“The rest of the body?” Nana gasped.
Lorna Bea stared, wide-eyed, at her father. “What do you mean?”
Her father’s breath huffed out as he glared at her. She moved closer to Nana as if her grandma’s scrawny little body could protect her.
“You’re too young to hear about such things,” her father said. “Now get to your room.”
“But, Daddy,” Lorna Bea said. “Cade was talking about it, too, and—”
“What did he say?” her father bellowed.
“His daddy thought the man in the car was murdered. And that the police were looking for more bodies.”
“That’s all you need to know,” her daddy shouted. “So don’t go nosing around asking questions. And you sure as hell aren’t going into those woods where some maniac could be lurking.”
She thought about the man in the black hoodie she’d seen. But she couldn’t tell her daddy or he’d go crazy.
He slung his finger toward the staircase then dragged her up the stairs. “Now stay in there till I say you can come out.”
Tears stung Lorna Bea’s eyes as he shoved her in her room and locked the door. She pressed her ear to it and listened, hoping he’d come back and change his mind. But the clock on the wall ticked the minutes away, and ten minutes later, she gave up and ran to the window.
She pushed the curtain aside and peered through the branches of the tree. Cade and Betsy were next door in their yard, probably thinking her daddy was a big bad brute.
Night was setting in, the sun slipping behind the covering of the trees. Leafy shadows looked like hands reaching toward her. Outside, she heard the cicadas and tree frogs croaking and a flock of crows soared past the window.
She didn’t care what her daddy said. She wanted to go outside so bad and listen to the water lap against the shore. She reached for the window to open it. She’d show him. She’d climb out and see Cade and Betsy and maybe she’d even wade in the shallow water. But just as she started to turn the latch, a movement caught her eye.
Her hands curled around the edge of the window, and she glanced across the woods near the shed. A dark figure moved toward it.
The man in the black hoodie again.
SIXTY-TWO
BLACK SNAKE COVE
