Chapter Twenty-Three
Lynette dropped her bag onto the sand and pulled out a beach towel.
Annie glanced up at her. “If you’re going to lie down on your back like this, I should warn you. This position hurts more than it used to.”
After smoothing her towel out next to Annie, Lynette glanced at Kit and Renee, relaxing in nearby chairs. She noticed Jackie’s mystery novel in Kit’s lap.
“What do you think?” she asked, nodding toward the book.
Kit picked it up. “I like it. Thanks for passing it on to me when you couldn’t get into it. The only trouble was I couldn’t put it down last night. I’m tired today.”
Lynette could relate. Sleep was even harder than lying flat on her back on the sand would be. Her night cap hadn’t even helped. Maybe if she took a dip in the lake, then lay down in the hot sun on her towel, she could doze off. She couldn’t see whether Renee’s eyes were closed behind her dark sunglasses, but she did detect the soft purr of a snore. Given the woman’s lack of response to Lynette’s arrival, beach naps were possible.
Kit nodded, smiling at Lynette’s appraisal of Renee. “She hasn’t moved in twenty minutes.”
“Maybe we should splash her. If only I had a bucket,” Lynette teased.
“That’s a bad idea,” Annie said from her towel. She didn’t bother to open her eyes this time. “You know—paybacks and all.”
“I suppose I shouldn’t tempt fate,” Lynette said. “There’s always karma to consider. But doesn’t she look too darn peaceful?”
Kit set the mystery on the arm of her chair, shaking her head. “I think it’s exhaustion more than anything. She’s always worried about Matt when he’s on duty. It wears on her. But he’s fishing with the guys right now, so she can relax.”
“That would be hard,” Lynette said. She kicked her sandals off. “I’m going to cool off, then try to take a nap, too.”
“Check on Jackie while you’re out there, will you?” Kit said with a nod toward the water. “She’s been out there for a while, as per usual. Between all her swimming and running, one would wonder if she might be getting in shape for something in particular.”
“Or someone.” Lynette winked.
She wandered to the water’s edge. The cold water felt luxurious against her hot skin. A nap on an inflatable raft out on the lake sounded even better than a towel on the sand. If only she had one.
She pushed off once the water reached her waist, dog-paddling in Jackie’s direction. Jackie was swimming perpendicular to the shoreline. She supposed it was like swimming laps, but lake-style. Once her friend got close, she yelled hello.
Jackie flipped onto her back and waved. “Coming out to join me? The exercise feels good after so much sitting and eating.”
“No, I’d probably get all turned around and get myself into trouble out here. Like Renee told us Ethan did when they were kids. I’ve never been as strong of a swimmer as you. If I was, I’d try to talk you into diving with me to find my lost ring. My finger feels naked without it. But since that isn’t even remotely possible, I just got in the water to cool off and say hi.”
Jackie grinned. “If Renee thought finding your ring was possible, I promise I’d try. But she said it was too deep in that area. Hey, you seem to be in a better mood today, though. I was worried about you after last night. Is everything all right?”
Lynette nodded, almost gulping lake water. Her arms and legs were tiring from swimming in place. “Fine. Or they will be. I just got some upsetting news from my lawyer yesterday. But I don’t want to get into it now. Like I said, I’ll deal with it when I get home.”
A boat must have gone by out on the lake somewhere, because a series of swells moved through. A wave splashed into her mouth. “I better get back before I drown,” she said, coughing. “Be careful.”
“I will!” Jackie laughed. “You, too. I have five more passes to do, then I’ll come join you bathing beauties on shore.”
Lynette turned to head back, and another wave hit the back of her head. She gave up on trying to keep her hair dry and switched to a crawl stroke instead. Her hair would be impossible to deal with later, but for now, she’d enjoy the cold refreshment of the lake.
By nightfall, Lynette’s worries were back. Donna had sent her a text, reporting that everything at home—including the basement and Ebony the cat—was fine. But she couldn’t find their old teddy bear. Did Lynette have any idea where it had disappeared to?
Lynette imagined her response: Why yes, Mommy Dearest, I know exactly where the teddy bear is because I hid his body, along with his severed head minus one black button eye. I guess we both have our share of secrets, don’t we?
She’d always known how important that bear was to Donna, though she had never really understood why. Now she had to wonder if maybe it had something to do with the horrors she had overheard Donna share with Lavonne. Could the stuffed animal have belonged to Donna’s long-lost sister, once upon a time?
Despite falling asleep on her towel next to Annie after her short swim, the fire smoldered on in her brain. The rest hadn’t helped. When she’d suffered anxiety like this in years past, only gin had helped to snuff the flames. Two quick shots of the stuff before dinner had helped her navigate the conversation around the picnic table, and the wine she drank with her steak helped her relax even more. She had a good buzz going now, but she doubted her friends could even tell.
She’d grown good at hiding it over the years.
The rational part of her brain knew that turning to alcohol was one of the worst things she could possibly do. She’d worked so hard to put her addictions behind her. But wasn’t logic the thing that had gotten her into this mess to begin with? When she could no longer stomach the pressures of running her company, her employees’ desire to buy it had seemed like the perfect solution. But look at it now.
Moving back to Ruby Shores, and bringing Donna along, had made sense, too, when the pandemic spread through the city. Not only that, but Donna told her she thought moving was a good idea, and Lynette had foolishly assumed her mother was sincere.
Lynette felt a confusing mixture of guilt for holding her mother back from living her own life and anger at her mother for the lies.
Donna had spent her entire life supporting Lynette. She’d worked tirelessly to provide for her when Lynette was young. Even once her daughter had become an adult, Donna continued to do all she could to make life easier for her.
But how could Donna be so deceitful about how she herself had grown up?
It was late, and all four of her friends had gone to bed an hour ago. Lynette wasn’t one bit tired. She felt compelled to head back out to the dock. Clouds had moved in during dinner and light sprinkles had left the beach deserted before moving on. Moonlight chased back the shadows and danced across the rippling surface of the lake.
She ignored both chairs, choosing instead to get down on her stomach near the end of the dock. When she rested her chin on her hands, she could watch the dark ripples disappear beneath the dock. The wind picked up, coaxing the ripples into waves, and Lynette reached for the dancing water. For a split second, she wondered what it would be like to slip below those waves. To just . . . disappear.
The flask she’d shoved into the front pocket of her jeans jabbed her hip bone, forcing her to sit up. She really shouldn’t think such ridiculous thoughts. Life was hard. That wasn’t anything new. It had always been hard, but she was a fighter, not a quitter.
She spun the top off her flask and took a swig, coughing over the straight gin. Tomorrow she’d need to find a liquor store. The bottle she had stashed in her suitcase was empty now. How was that even possible? She couldn’t possibly have downed the whole thing by herself.
But she didn’t have a car here and she doubted any of her friends would give her a ride.
A ripple of light on the waves drew her gaze upward. She studied the shadows and crevices of the moon, thinking back to some of the times she’d basked beneath its magical glow. Her friends teased her all the time about being part witch. She liked to play along, but on nights like this, she wondered if there was some truth to it all.
Or maybe she was just drunk.
But was that really such a bad thing? Without the sharp edge of panic slicing through her thoughts, she could consider all her options for dealing with the problems bubbling up in her life.
Her butt and back ached. The chair would be more comfortable than sitting on the unforgiving planks of the dock. She stood, but her foot knocked over the flask she’d neglected to close.
“What’s the matter with me?” she said, but only the wind answered back, and its words were in a language she couldn’t quite decipher. “I keep spilling things.”
Then she remembered Renee mentioning a fun little bar that she and Matt would boat to for a burger and beer once in a while. The five of them had even talked about taking one of the resort’s speedboats over there for their last supper before they headed home.
She giggled at the notion of a “last supper” as she tipped the last few drops of gin left in the flask into her mouth. Now she really was out, and unless she kept this buzz going, everything would come flooding back to her.
She preferred this haze to reality.
Renee’s bar probably offered off-sale, too. Maybe not bottles of gin, but beer would do in a pinch. Sadly, she didn’t know how to drive a speedboat, and fortunately she wasn’t so drunk that she didn’t know her limits.
Then she remembered how easy it had been to maneuver Renee’s new canoe across the water. Would it be hard to find the lakeside bar if she took out the red canoe?
Suddenly, a quick boat ride to restock her gin supply seemed like a much better plan. If she had to ask to use someone’s car tomorrow, there would be questions. She loved her friends, but they could be incredibly nosy. Renee might even resist the idea.
Convinced she’d devised a better plan, Lynette set the now useless flask on the chair. She’d laughed when she’d discovered it in one of her cabin’s kitchen cupboards. Who used a flask anymore? But it had served its purpose. And hopefully it would again soon.
On her way to the area where Renee kept her boats, she remembered to grab her shoes from the sand at the foot of the dock. It wasn’t like she could go into the bar barefoot, could she? Sometimes she surprised herself with how smart she really was.
When she reached the small inlet where the resort’s boats were tied up, she saw that both speedboats were gone. Good thing she’d already decided a canoe would work better.
When they first took the canoes out, Renee put Lynette and Annie in the red one. She’d said it was newer, and easier to navigate. Had Matt given it to her as a present? Lynette couldn’t quite remember the details, but she was sure Renee would want her to use the red one tonight.
Safety first.
Speaking of safety, she should probably wear a life jacket. But there weren’t any in either canoe. Oh well—she could swim; she didn’t really need one. Good thing she’d tossed her phone onto the kitchen table, back at her cabin, deciding instead to put the flask in her front jeans pocket. At the time she’d been thinking she didn’t want to get any more bad-news phone calls, but now she wouldn’t want to risk getting it wet, either.
It was a pleasant night, and the water didn’t look too rough. Just some waves. One quick trip to the bar along the water and she’d be back before anyone even missed her.
Unless there weren’t any paddles either. Without paddles, she’d be out of luck. She checked inside the red canoe again.
“Yes!” she cried.
Clips held two paddles in place, one on each side. If she was better with them, she’d have tried using both to speed up the trip. But again, she knew her limits. Besides, it would be nice to have a spare, just in case she dropped another one.
It took more muscle than she’d expected to pull the red canoe down to the water’s edge. For a moment, she worried her plan might be squashed. She supposed it made sense to pull them far up on the shore so they wouldn’t float away if rough weather moved in, but it sure was inconvenient.
Lynette took pride in her gift of tenacity, and mere minutes later, she was paddling away from shore. When Renee had told them about the bar and restaurant, she’d pointed toward the north. How hard could it be to find? It wasn’t like she was driving without a map on a maze of back country roads. There was only one shoreline.
Her arms felt strong, and she dug deep, gliding smoothly past the dock. A moonbeam glinted off the flask she’d left behind, and she smiled. As long as she got back before the moon got much higher, her little flask could act like a lighthouse, beckoning her back home. She paddled on, keeping an eye on the shoreline, thankful for the bright moon above.
Then, without warning, everything around her dimmed, and for one heartbeat, she lost sight of the tall pines rimming the shore.
The moon could be fickle.
The haunting cry of a loon split the night air. Lynette searched for it, sure it was floating somewhere close on the reflective surface of the water, but it eluded her. Then another far-off sound tickled her ear.
Thunder.
She felt the very first prickle of fear. If more clouds moved in, she’d lose her light.
The idea of paddling around on the water in the dark, possibly through rain and wind, had her digging deeper. She could still see the tree outline, though it appeared smaller now. Was she angling too far to the left, out into deeper water? It was hard to keep her bearings.
She spun around to look behind her, debating whether it might be wise to abort her mission, but all she could see was water and moonlight. Where was Renee’s dock? The pinpricks of light from the cabins? The glow from the streetlight in front of the lodge?
A fat drop of rain landed on her right hand. She stared down at it, and the extra-pale skin on the finger where she used to wear her silver ring glowed back at her.
Then two more drops hit her on the top of her head and a shoulder. The rain increased, and it was as if tiny daggers fell on her, cleaving straight through the gin haze she’d surrounded herself with and shattering her cocoon of safety.
Why hadn’t she thought to check the weather before going out on the lake? Especially alone, and at night.
Her mind conjured up Renee’s earlier warning about how dangerous the lake could be if you didn’t respect it. Just as the last of her friend’s words of caution played out, the moon disappeared behind a thick bank of clouds and the rain poured down in earnest. Her sense of direction deserted her. She couldn’t help but wonder if her silver ring was right below the canoe now, stuck in the muck created by the dead and decaying.
Maybe when she’d pulled that Death card from the tarot deck, the Universe had meant it not for Renee, but for her.