Sixteen-year-old William J. Hawke disappeared late Monday night after last being seen on the beach outside the lake Pavilion by his friend Kevin Knowles police said. After an extensive search lasting five days, his body was recovered near the floating pier in the middle of the lake. It is speculated William “Billy” Hawke went swimming alone that night after his friend had gone home. The drowning was ruled an accident. Memorial services to be announced.

The mention of her father’s name came as a complete surprise, and Caroline immediately shoved the paper under the pile. She wiped her blackened fingertips on her shorts.

“Are you finished now?” Megan asked, irritated about having to wait.

Caroline nodded, her thoughts reeling.

“What did you find?” Adam asked.

“Nothing,” she said, not wanting to talk about it. “Let’s go.” She left the papers on the table like Mrs. 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 that night. Did they have a bad fight? Was that how he fractured his arm? She had always believed Jo knew more about what had happened than she was saying.

“I’ll talk with everyone who had contact with him,” he said. “But you have to understand, it’s only a preliminary report. I’m still waiting for the DNA results. Once I have that final report, I’ll make the decision whether or not to officially reopen the case.”

She looked away from him, not wanting him to see the agitation, the anger she was sure showed on her face. She was sick to death of waiting.

Perhaps he knew what she was thinking because he said, “I’ll poke around to see what I can find out, but I’ll need those results to make it official.”

“What do you think happened to his arm?”

“I have a few guesses, but I can’t build a case on conjecture.”

“Right.” She didn’t like what he was telling her, where this was going. “So what happens if no one opens up?” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm from her tone.

“Then we’re back where we started more or less.”

“So you’re saying that finding my brother’s bones only raises more questions about what happened to him.”

“Yes and no. It’s more information than we had previously.” He hesitated. “Listen,” he said. “Just be patient a little longer. Let me do my job. I’ve been doing this long enough to know that sooner or later the truth has a way of surfacing.”

There was a ruckus on one of the fishing boats. Both Dee Dee and the sheriff turned to the sound.

“Nothing.” Stimpy’s voice carried across the water.

“What a goddamn mess,” the sheriff said.

“Yes, it is.” She checked her phone. “I have to get to work. Is there anything else?”

“That’s all for now.” The sheriff tipped his hat again and turned to walk away.

She started picking up the rest of the cans from the floor and stopped. “You’ll let me know as soon as you hear anything,” she called.

“You’ll be the first.”

Most people at the lake thought she was paranoid, delusional. A drunk. She never believed the sheriff was one of them. “Thank you, Sheriff.”

He paused and looked back at her. “Do you think there will ever be a day when you call me Dave?”

She couldn’t see his eyes under the shade of the hat, but she felt his stare through to her insides. She shook her head. “I doubt it.”

*   *   *

After grabbing the keys from the cabin, Dee Dee got in the car and started the engine. If she didn’t get moving, she was going to be late for work. She punched the steering wheel with her palm. What the hell happened to you, Billy? She threw the car in reverse and backed out of the parking space, catching sight of the sheriff’s broad shoulders and lean stature. He was standing on the docks next to Heil waiting for the fishermen to come in off the water.