The Secrets of Lake Road - Karen Katchur Page 0,14

any conversation they may have otherwise had. They hurried through the wind and rain to Gram’s big Oldsmobile parked on the other side of the Pavilion, far away from the beach. They were soaked by the time they reached the car. Caroline was wet and cold. Goose bumps prickled her skin.

Back at the cabin, Caroline ate two helpings of Gram’s infamous homemade macaroni and cheese, a favorite comfort food, before curling up in her new hand-stitched quilt in her bedroom. She tucked her hands under her chin. The storm had been fierce but quick, lasting thirty minutes or less. A welcomed breeze blew through the open window. The cool air swept over her sun-kissed skin, sending shivers up and down her arms and legs.

“I’m scared,” she said to Willow, the name she had given the big weeping willow tree outside her bedroom window. In response it brushed its branches against the side of the cabin and scratched at the screen.

Ever since she was little, she had talked to Willow, her imaginary friend who just happened to be a tree. It was silly really to think of a tree in this way, but Willow was one of the constants during her summers at the lake. He listened when she couldn’t find the words to talk with her mother or Gram. He never rolled his eyes or sulked the way Megan sometimes did when they’d disagree over something stupid. He didn’t pick on her or make fun of her like Johnny did. Willow was there when she closed her eyes at night, every night. She imagined him standing guard while she slept. He wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her. He would protect her. And he was always there the moment she opened her eyes the next morning.

Although she hadn’t talked to Willow much over the last few summers, tonight she fell into past habits, needing to feel secure. As always he was there, towering high above the cabin, watching. His branches reached toward anyone who paused long enough to gaze at his splendor. Sometimes she’d climb into the crook of his arms and listen to his leaves in the summer breeze. Other times she’d read to him from one of her mystery novels. She imagined he liked mysteries as much as she did.

“Her name was Sara,” she whispered to Willow. A knot clogged her throat, and she swallowed hard. “She’s still missing.”

She had overheard one of the men from underwater recovery talking about a typical scenario, how they’d normally pull a body from the lake within the first six to eight hours. But they still hadn’t found Sara.

Only one other time did she recall hearing a story about someone named Billy, a boy who hadn’t been found right away. It had happened years before Caroline was born. She had overheard Gram talking to Pop one night when they had thought she had been asleep. Her mother had taken off and hadn’t returned, and they had been worried. Caroline remembered feeling scared and angry, although she didn’t understand why.

She had crept out of her bed and entered the hall that separated her room from the bath and kitchen. She pressed her back against the yellow painted wall and hid in the shadow of the door. It was then she had learned that the boy named Billy had been missing for five days, how every waking hour had been spent dragging the lake for his body.

“It’s always been Billy,” Gram said. “And somehow she blames herself.”

Pop shook his head and smoothed his gray beard. “Well, something went wrong.” He covered his neck as if he were choking. “They shouldn’t have let it go on for five days.”

Caroline wasn’t exactly sure what they had meant, but it had been as if her mother had somehow played a part in it—the lake and the drowning. She had asked Gram only one time about the boy named Billy. Gram pinched her lips and told her never to mention his name again.

Caroline never did.

Now, as she whispered to Willow, she wondered what Sara had in common with Billy. Why hadn’t she been found? What did it mean?

CHAPTER SIX

Dee Dee pulled to the side of the cabin and stopped, the headlights resting on a large tree limb blocking the only parking space. Tired after another long shift at the hospital, she sat staring at the limb, the car idling. The storm earlier that night had been a bad one. Twice the lights on her floor had flickered but