The Secrets of Lake Road - Karen Katchur Page 0,105

he could win a fight with him in the water. Billy was too strong a swimmer. But from where he stood, Kevin could see the waves lapping in slow rhythm against the side of the pier, the water showing little to no disturbance in its cadence, no sign of someone swimming, splashing.

“Where are you?” he asked.

After several long minutes, how many minutes he had no way of knowing, Billy still hadn’t shown himself. The lake remained calm, silent.

“Billy,” Kevin said, and looked over the edge again.

Nothing.

“Billy,” he called, panic settling in. He raced around the pier, searching the water, much like Jo had done. “Where are you?” he asked, but even as the words left his lips, he understood what had happened. The air had rushed from Billy’s lungs. Kevin had knocked the wind out of him. Billy had hit his head before falling into the water. He wasn’t coming back up.

Ever.

Kevin dropped to his knees, his head in his hands. His best friend’s body sunk to the darkness below, joining whatever else was dead at the bottom of the lake.

And this time, this time it was all Kevin’s fault.

* * *

Kevin’s body shook from the memory. His arms hung at his sides, limp and weak, remembering the physical exertion, the emotional trauma of the night he had gotten rid of Billy forever.

From the balcony he watched Johnny dive into the lake after Chris, both boys swimming for shore. Lucky for them, Kevin thought, and crushed the cigarette butt with his foot. He wiped his cheek. His hand came away wet. He hadn’t realized he had been crying.

He turned to head into the bar for another drink but stopped when he saw a lone figure stumbling up the docks toward the parking lot. Something about the person’s movements was familiar. When the figure stepped under one of the tent’s spotlights, he recognized the hollow of her cheeks, the swell of her breasts and hips. He knew something was wrong.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

The light under the tent temporarily blinded Jo. She stopped walking, waiting for the spots to clear. Her face was still sore where Dee Dee had smacked her not once, but twice. She touched her cheek tenderly. After Patricia had explained everything she had witnessed the night Billy had drowned, Dee Dee had tossed Jo a frozen bag of peas as a kind of peace offering for slugging her. They talked for the next several hours, a game of Remember When, with all their memories centered on Billy.

Jo wouldn’t go as far as to say she and Dee Dee were friends. She wasn’t sure they would ever define their relationship in those terms, but they had reached an understanding, one of tolerance for each other for Johnny’s sake. It was a start. Or maybe it was the end of something. Dee Dee was unpredictable. But whatever happened from this night on, Jo no longer felt threatened by her.

Once her vision had cleared, she kept to the perimeter of the parking lot near the edge of the woods and away from the festival. Most of the stands and tables under the tents were empty, waiting for the merchandise to be displayed in the morning. The last of the temporary lights turned off as the few remaining workers headed home for the night.

She was closing in on the path that would lead to the ballpark and colony when Kevin stepped out from a shadow and blocked her way. She stiffened at the sight of him, unprepared to confront him so soon after learning what he had done. His hair was sticking up as though he had been running his fingers through it for hours. His eyes were wet and glassy. He smelled as though he had been drinking.

“What happened?” he asked, and motioned toward her cheek.

She turned her head away.

“What’s wrong?” He reached for her.

“Don’t touch me.” She glanced over his shoulder at the woods, looking for a way to escape, spying the entrance to the path.

“What did I do?” he asked.

She stared at him in disbelief. “What did you do?” Something inside of her came undone and thrashed in the air around them. “You let me think I was responsible for Billy drowning because I pushed him into the lake. But all this time, it wasn’t me.” She shook her head. “It was you.”

“What are you talking about? You’re not making any sense.”

Her words stumbled out in a rush. “You were the last one with him. Not me. You pushed him into