The Secrets of Lake Road - Karen Katchur Page 0,45

Nester had asked, and walked to the front of the store, where their bikes lay on the ground.

Adam handed her a couple of baseball cards. “Here,” he said. “I already have these.”

“Thanks.” She took them absently and climbed onto her bike.

She did the math and yes, both her parents would’ve been sixteen in 1997, the same age as Billy. Her father had known Billy all along. They were friends.

A heavy weight settled onto her shoulders, and a sense of betrayal swarmed her chest. Was her father in on her mother’s secret too? What were her parents hiding and why?

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Dee Dee stepped outside and gazed at the frenzy of fishing boats dragging the lake. Goddamn Heil, she thought, and bent down to pick up the empty beer cans from the night before. There were at least a dozen or more scattered across the porch floor. She dropped the first armful into the recycling bin, catching sight of the sheriff making his way across the yard.

He tipped his hat in greeting. “It must have been some party,” he said, eying the cans still on the floor at her feet.

“Hardly.” She picked up several more empties, not caring whether he believed she had had a party of twenty or the truth, a party of one.

“Well, I’m glad I caught you.” He motioned to her white scrubs. She worked in one of the few hospitals where the nurses still wore white. Most wore different colors—maroon, blue, green, hideous flowered prints. She preferred the crisp, clean look of white. No muss. No fuss.

“What brings you by?” she asked. “I hope you’re here to give me some good news.”

The sun showed the lines on the sheriff’s face. He was older than her by at least fifteen years, but not that old that he didn’t cross her mind in ways that maybe he shouldn’t. And yet, it wasn’t so strange for her to think of him in a romantic way. After all, he was as much of an outsider here as she was, him being the sheriff and her being the woman whose brother had drowned. She supposed it was only natural for the two of them to seek each other out.

“I was able to get my hands on a preliminary report,” he said, getting straight to business, which she appreciated. “It’s what we thought. The snappers took the bones. But they did find something I think is curious.” His hand was resting on his sidearm. His hat was pulled low to shade his eyes against the sun.

Her body stilled. The muscle in her right bicep twitched.

He continued. “Did your brother hurt his arm that you know of? Or mention anything to you about injuring it?”

“No,” she said, and then took a moment to think. “No.” She was certain. “He wasn’t hurt. He would’ve told me if he were. He didn’t keep anything from me. Why? What’s this about?”

“They found a fracture on the ulna. They’re calling it a nightstick fracture. It happens when something hits the forearm, say in a hard fall or when the forearm strikes something with a lot of force. Either way, it was enough to limit the use of his arm.”

Her heart tumbled, rolling over inside her chest. “What does this mean? Does this prove it wasn’t an accident?”

“It’s hard to say at this point, but I think it’s worth looking into.”

She crushed one of the empty cans still in her hand. She had waited so long for something, anything to prove her brother’s drowning wasn’t his own doing. He didn’t just slip and fall and crack his head like everyone wanted to believe. And now to discover he had a fractured arm, too. “And you think this contributed to his death?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I think the question we need to ask is how he fractured it,” he said. “I wanted to confirm with you first that he didn’t injure it prior to that night.”

“He didn’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“All right, I’ll start asking around and see if anybody knows anything about how he might’ve hurt it.”

“What makes you think someone is going to talk now?” She tossed the crushed can into the bin and folded her arms, hiding the large knuckles of her fists.

“Maybe someone knew something then and didn’t think it was relevant at the time.”

“But it is relevant.”

“I think so.”

“Will you question Jo?” If Dee Dee trusted anything, it was her instincts. She had sensed something was wrong between Billy and Jo before they had ever left the cabin