game or three-legged race. It was all she could do to make inane small talk with the other parents.
By the time the talent show started, she was feeling even more anxious. She was desperate to pick up Smokey and clear out of the house, and yet the thought of leaving the kids made her ache. As the show ended and the campers congregated with friends by the makeshift stage, her eyes searched until they found the camp director.
“Hi, I’m Lake Warren,” she said, approaching him. “I’m so sorry I had to wake you the other night.”
It took him a moment to connect the dots. “Oh, not a problem,” he said, remembering. “Did you figure it out in the end?”
“It must have been a wrong number,” she said. “But it did frighten me. I thought something had happened to Will.”
“You mustn’t worry. We take excellent care of the kids here—they’re never out of sight.”
“And at night?” she asked.
“At night? Everything’s locked up tight. We even have a night watchman. Why? Is there some reason—?”
“No—that call just made me a little edgy. Could you ask the counselors to keep a special close eye on my kids? I’d really appreciate it.”
“Of course,” he said graciously. But she could tell by the way he narrowed his eyes that he thought she was being paranoid—or else hiding something.
As she walked away from him, she bit her lip, thinking. The mystery call had come twenty-four hours before Keaton’s death. Therefore it wasn’t related to the murder and might not be related to anything at all. Still, if someone was after her—if Jack wasn’t the one responsible for Smokey—it meant her kids might be in jeopardy, too. Should she take them out of the camp, she wondered, and bring them back to the city? Her instinct was to have them close by, but as her mind grappled with all the possibilities, she realized that the city might actually be the worst place for them right now. At least up here they were off the radar of anyone who might be after her. Plus, she realized, no one but Jack knew exactly where they were. Friends, even people at the clinic, were aware they were in camp, but fortunately no one had ever bothered to ask the name of it.
At four the events wound down and it was time to go. Both kids acted uncharacteristically with their goodbyes. Will, who she had expected to be clingy, ran ahead with his friends, dragging his swimming medals through the dusty grass.
“Don’t I get a hug?” she called to him.
“Oh, yeah, sorry, Mom,” he said, darting back and flinging his arms around her. “Tell Smokey hi, okay?”
Amy, however, usually so independent and unflappable, reached for her hand as they walked toward the parking lot and held it tightly.
“What would you like in your next care package, honey?” Lake asked. “I want to send you a really good one.”
“I need a new book, Mom. And some Twizzlers. Enough for me and Lauren.”
“Got it…Oh, I nearly forgot. You got a letter from that Save the Tiger organization.”
She rooted through her purse for the envelope and as she looked up to hand it to her daughter she saw that Amy’s face was pinched, fighting back tears. Had she been troubled all day about something, and had Lake, overwhelmed by her own fears, not even noticed?
“What is it, honey?” Lake asked, squeezing Amy’s hand.
“It’s nothing, I guess.” Amy looked as if she were both anxious to unburden herself but reluctant to trouble Lake.
“No, tell me,” Lake coaxed. “Do you…do you feel sad about Dad not coming?”
“I guess. I wanted him to hear me sing that song in the show.”
“They were taping it, I think. He can get a DVD.”
“Okay,” Amy said sadly. Lake could see, though, that Jack’s no-show wasn’t the issue.
“There’s something else, Amy, isn’t there? Tell me, sweetie.”
“Mom,” Amy asked, almost in a whisper. “Is everything okay?”
“What do you mean?” Lake asked. Her body tightened in alarm.
“I don’t know. You seem different today. Like—I don’t know.”
That was so typical of her intuitive daughter, Lake thought—she had sensed the terror coursing right beneath her mother’s skin.
“I’m sorry if I gave you that impression, sweetie,” Lake said. “No, nothing’s the matter. I’m still getting used to doing things on my own again. But I’m fine. Really.”
“Okay,” Amy said haltingly. She sounded completely unconvinced.
“You know what I think?” Lake said, enveloping Amy in her arms. “I think parents’ days are both good and bad. Everybody gets