The Secrets of Lake Road - Karen Katchur Page 0,60
onto the bar. So that was that.
The crowd that had been on the docks started trickling in. Heil walked in with Stimpy and a couple of other fishermen, and she found herself amidst another community meeting. She sat on the edge of the stool and gripped the soda in front of her, wondering if Patricia would show up. She had to find a way to get Patricia alone and ask how she knew Billy, and why she acted as though he was still alive.
The men were seated and the discussion started.
“Why is the sheriff asking questions about that boy Billy and those bones?” one of Stimpy’s cronies asked. “Why’s he bugging us? He said nothing’s official, so why’s he drudging up old news?”
Jo steadied herself, not making eye contact with any of the men. Although she could’ve sworn every one of them glanced in her direction at the mention of Billy’s name.
“I’ll talk to the sheriff,” Heil said.
“It’s bad enough that girl is still out there,” someone bellowed. “He keeps talking about those bones, and he’s going to scare people away.”
“Hell, I don’t think they’re scared. I think they’re bored,” Jonathon jumped in. “I had two families pack up their vehicles and head home,” he said. “No one wants to hang around the lake in the summer heat if they can’t enjoy the water. Although it’s tragic what happened, people are restless. They’re good people, hardworking people, who spent their hard-earned money to come here. They want to spend their time on the lake fishing and swimming. It’s what they expect, or they want their money back.”
Some of the other cabin owners chimed in, complaining they, too, had worked hard to fill their rentals and couldn’t afford refunds or cancelations.
“What about the Trout Festival in a few days? There are a couple hundred people or more expected to come. The kids expect to fish in the tournament. We can’t disappoint the kids,” the father of the Needlemeyer twins said.
“Okay, okay.” Heil held up his hands to quiet them down. “We’re not canceling the festival or the fishing tournament.”
“Well, this mess has to be cleaned up by then. We can’t have a tournament while there’s a boat out there dragging the lake for that little girl’s body,” Jonathon said.
Heil stared at the men long and hard. “You’re not going to lose anymore renters,” he said to Jonathon. “And no one’s canceling anything,” he said to all of them.
“But I swear, I saw the families packing up the Blue Hen,” a man from the back of the room said.
The crowd murmured. It was true. Other renters were talking about leaving. The gossip went round and round.
“Not one person has rented a boat in five damn days,” Stimpy said.
Nate chimed in about not having any customers, about how he, too, couldn’t afford to lose any more money.
“Let’s face it: nobody is going to get near the water with those boats out there looking for that little girl,” one of the men said.
Another said, “It’s been too long. What’s the likelihood of finding her now anyway?”
“You mean what’s the likelihood there’s anything left to find,” someone said. The group nodded its assent. “They’ll never find scraps. The lake is too damn big. She was small to begin with.”
“You brought up a good point.” Heil’s voice boomed over the crowd. He pulled his shorts high on his expansive stomach. “Maybe we can talk the recovery team into limiting their search to early morning. There aren’t many of them left now anyway.”
“What about us?” Stimpy asked, motioning to his gang of fishermen.
“Same goes for you,” Heil said. “Trap more snappers, but leave them in their cages. Let everybody swim and fish and enjoy themselves. We can pick up the search in the off-hours.” He paused. “Although I agree, there’s probably not much left of her to find.”
Kevin stepped inside the bar as the rumble of the crowd subsided. Jo immediately went over to him. She grabbed his hand and led him down the stairs to the parking lot. She wanted to know if he had found Caroline, but she couldn’t ask him here, not with Heil and the fishermen within earshot.
“Did you find her?” she asked once they were outside and alone.
“No.” He stepped closer to her. He smelled wet like the rain mixed with cigarette smoke, but underneath it all, she smelled the soap on his skin, a scent unique to him. “Would you please tell me what’s going on,” he said.