Page 239 of It Happened on the Lake

Then there was Levi.

Now that he knew the truth about Dawn, everything had changed.

He’d left within minutes of Rand, and Harper was alone in this massive home. It seemed more cavernous than ever. As night descended, the rooms with their high ceilings, winding staircases, and long hallways felt empty and dark, shadowy and intimidating.

As she put together a tuna sandwich, she thought of how many people used to fill the hallways, stairs, dormers, and rooms. Her family, for starters. Mama and Daddy, Evan, Gramps and Gram, even the dour Matilda added life to the place, not to mention the servants that seemed to be on every floor. She even missed the cats slinking up the stairs or hiding beneath the tables or lounging like royalty on Gram’s bed.

Thinking of the cats brought her back to Jinx.

She’d not seen hide nor hair of him, never heard him scratching or crying. Yet someone knew exactly where he was and what had happened to him. The damned intruder had left his collar on the doll as well as a rotting feline carcass under the chaise in the tower. Had he just found the breakaway collar on the grounds somewhere? Had Jinx wiggled out of it? Or did the intruder actually have her cat? In the back of her mind she hoped that if Jinx didn’t come home, he’d found a good life by being adopted by another family, but she had worries as well, worries that something awful had happened to him.

“Don’t go there,” she reprimanded herself as she slapped butter on two slices of wheat bread, grated cheese on one side and the tuna mixture on the other. Then she added sliced pickles and chopped onion and turned on the stove.

As the sandwich toasted, sizzling in a pan, she listened to the phone messages that had come in while she was talking with Dawn, then Levi and Rand. She’d silenced the ring and let whoever called leave a message.

The first message was from the cable company, confirming their appointment in three days. The second was from the ever-present Rhonda Simms reminding her that the next installment of the series about the lake was due. “If you want to add your perspective, just give me a call,” she’d said brightly.

“Next,” Harper said in a flat tone, then let the following message play as she flipped her sandwich. Lou Arista’s office. Not even the lawyer himself. An assistant asking she return the call and rattling off the number. “Fat chance,” Harper said just as the phone rang, and for once she picked up.

“Hello?”

“Oh, hi, Harper,” Marcia said, and Harper pictured her in the penthouse, walking around the living room and staring out the floor to ceiling windows while stretching the long phone cord. “Look, I just wanted you to know that we missed Dawn today and are devastated. We hope you saw her, and we’re reporting Dad is feeling lots better.”

“Right,” her father said, sounding far from the receiver. And then more distinctly, “Don’t list the house with Beth Leonetti.”

“Her name is Alexander now,” Marcia reminded him.

“I know, I know, but tell her, you tell her, Marcia, that I still have my license if she really wants to sell the place.”

“You heard him, right?” Marcia said, then in a whisper, “He’s very agitated at the thought of you putting the house on the market. So, just hold off, okay. I don’t want him to get overly upset—”

“I heard that!” Dad cut in. “I’ve got a weak heart but damned good ears!”

“I’d better go,” Marcia said without really stating the reason for her call.

Harper smelled butter burning and hung up, then flipped her sandwich, noting that the crust was pretty black. She paid more attention for the final side, then slid it onto a plate before scrounging in the fridge for a can of Diet Coke to wash down the meal.

“The dinner of champions,” she mocked. She thought about watching TV, but the cable wasn’t hooked up yet and the only television in the house was a small black and white relic from the sixties set up in Gram’s bedroom. Harper doubted it worked and made a mental note to buy a new model so she could get lost inThe Wonder YearsorCheersor whatever. Even the news orMonday Night Footballwould be welcome tonight after all the hard truths she’d had to face this afternoon.

I can’t change the past, she thought, sitting in the wingback chair Levi had occupied earlier. All she could deal with was the here and now. For her future. And, more importantly for Dawn’s. For the first time in years Dawn was more interested in being a part of the family, if her enthusiasm for living in this house were to be believed. That might change when she learned the truth about her biological father and that her mother had lied about him.There are lies of commission and lies of omission, she told herself as she bit into her sandwich. Yeah, it had a definite burned taste but was edible, so she ate over half of it and finished the Coke.

Time will tell, she supposed, but for now, she needed to make the house secure. Someone was intent on scaring her off. She didn’t know why and she didn’t know who, but whoever it was had found a way to get inside.

Despite the new locks.

She had to find a way to stop anyone unwanted from entering, and to do that she had to locate the point of entrance, a door she’d forgotten.

She remembered the set of keys she’d found in Gram’s drawer. Maybe one of them would give her insight to another entrance to this old house. She snagged the ring off the kitchen counter where she’d left it after emptying her pockets the other day. She wondered what each key would unlock or if the locks even still existed.

Of course she recognized the car keys, one to Gram’s Cadillac and the other to Gramps’s Corvette. There were other keys as well of varying sizes—none, it seemed, for Evan’s motorcycle. At least not on this ring.

She figured the cars wouldn’t start. Surely their batteries were long drained. Did they have gas? Was it still good after twenty years?

But she decided to try anyway.Nothing ventured, nothing gained, she reminded herself and headed to the garage.

Once inside, she flipped on the overhead lights and opened the doors to each of the bays, just on the off chance the old engines actually sparked. She didn’t want to fill the garage with exhaust.

She needn’t have worried.