Stranger in the Lake(71)



I don’t even know what to say to that. My mother didn’t worry, not even a little bit, but I have bigger problems. Tell Paul I need to talk to him, Jax said, right before a girl with his necklace turned up dead, and Paul took off into the woods. Only a guilty man would do that. A man with something to hide.

“Where’s this necklace now?”

“That’s the problem,” Mr. Sterling says. “Nobody can tell us. Not the police. Not the people in the B and B.”

Mrs. Sterling nods, her summer-blue eyes boring into mine. “It’s gone. The necklace has vanished.”



31


I don’t wait until the Sterlings are done with their impromptu memorial. As soon as they’ve carted the flowers out the back door, the second they’ve rounded the corner for the stairs that will lead them down to the dock, I’m reaching for my cell. Chet’s number rings and rings, then pushes me to voice mail.

“Chet, call me. Sienna came to town with a necklace that connects Bobby to Jax. Did she say anything to you about it, or was she maybe wearing one? Either way, it’s MIA. Call me the second you hear this.”

I hang up and stare out the window, at the lake and hills and light that’s fading fast.

Being responsible for a man’s death would drive a person batty. It would drive me batty. Chet, too, probably. Maybe Jax ran Bobby off the road. Maybe Jax saw it happen and jumped in to save him, losing his necklace in the process. Or maybe it was worse than that—maybe he was sitting next to Bobby in the Camaro when they crashed. Maybe he was driving.

The thought wipes me clear inside, a bright white light that’s blank and blinding. For a second or two, I think I might pass out from the enormity of it. It would explain so much. Why Jax kept quiet about it for all these years. Why he traded his golden-boy status for a reputation as the town loon. Why he crumbled under the weight of all that guilt.

And now the necklace links Jax to Bobby Holmes to Sienna, a shiny, definitive token someone was willing to kill to make disappear.

And what about Paul? How much did he know? I stare out the window and will my mind to come up with a safe explanation, with an answer that makes some sort of sense. My brain bubbles with half-formed thoughts, but the same one keeps rising to the surface: Paul doesn’t have an alibi for the morning Sienna went into the lake.

Would he do that? Silence an innocent stranger in order to keep Jax’s secret safe? Would he weigh loyalty to an old friend over another life? I think these things until my bones are ready to jump out of my skin. The Paul I know would never do any of these things, but if the past few days have proved nothing else, it’s that I only know the Paul he’s wanted me to see.

The Sterlings are down by the shoreline now, standing at the far edge of the dock. Mrs. Sterling tosses the roses in one by one, while her husband watches from three feet away. The wind picks up her hair, whirls the petals from the flowers. There’s a storm brewing, the clouds low and heavy over the mountain and in my heart, and I don’t know what to believe.

My phone beeps with a text from Paul.

Home in 15, see you soon <3
I grab my keys and race to the car.

  The rain starts as I’m rounding the bend to Knob Hill, fat splatters on the windshield, knocking against the roof, sliding in rivulets down the glass. I flip the handle for the wipers and they squeak and whine, leaving greasy streaks on the windshield. It makes it hard to see past the next curve, to judge if the car coming at me is Paul’s or another SUV. If he was where he said he went, to the Curtis Cottage on the southern end of the lake, he’ll be taking a whole different road home than the one I’m on now.

A silver Toyota whizzes past, and I blow out a sigh of relief. The road before me is empty, and it feels darker than before. I reach down and flip on my headlights.

I dig my phone from the cup holder and call Sam on his cell.

“Kincaid.” It comes out gruff, the word hurried, and for an irrational second I wonder if he knew it was me when he picked up, if he still has my name in his phone.

“Sam, it’s me. Charlie. Is it true Sienna had Jax’s necklace?”

A pause. “I take it you’ve talked to the Sterlings.”

“Is it?”

Sam sighs. “That’s the rumor going around, but I’m still working to confirm. Nobody’s laid eyes on the necklace but the Sterlings and presumably the killer, and until we locate Jax, we can’t prove he no longer has his. I’ve got a call out to a detective in Ohio. They’ve gone to question the diver.”

“Paul owns all of Pitts Cove, Sam. He has for years.”

“I know.”

“Do you think he knew about Jax’s necklace in Bobby’s car? And not just because you hate the guy. I’m talking about real, concrete evidence.”

“Why, because trying to conceal what was at the bottom of Pitts Cove isn’t evidence enough?” A string of thunderous claps shakes the Civic down to the tires, and Sam pauses long enough to let it pass. “But okay, here’s what I know. I know Jax showing up on your back deck is a regular occurrence, once about every six or seven days. I know that his visits usually last somewhere between twenty to thirty minutes, and that by the time Jax leaves he’s showered and fed and wearing clean clothes. I know Paul never lets Jax leave without giving him a prepay card, which he pays for on the company AmEx. I know these visits are friendly and usually end in a hug.”

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