Gram patted Caroline’s shoulder.

They finished putting the rest of the groceries away. Gram mentioned heading to the Laundromat to take care of the other business, the sheets and soiled clothes.

“Why don’t you head on down to the lake? I bet they have the forms posted for the fishing tournament. That is, if you’re still considering entering.”

“They’re still having it?”

Gram put her hand on her hip and pursed her lips. “They wouldn’t cancel that thing for nobody. It’s all about greed. They think money rules the world.” She picked up the laundry basket. “Fools, that’s what they are, a bunch of ignorant, greedy fools.”

“I’m not sure I would’ve fished anyway, you know. It’s kid stuff.” After the morning event, it no longer felt like she should compete. The tournament was meant for kids twelve years old and younger. Maybe it was time she stepped aside to give the younger kids a chance to hook the largest lake trout. This would be the first summer since she could remember where she’d have to stand back and watch. In some ways, she felt her body betrayed her.

Gram looked at her. “Suit yourself.” She supposed Gram understood why.

Caroline rode her bike to the Pavilion. The place was a flurry of activity despite the underwater recovery team’s watercraft in the middle of the lake. The parking lot was sectioned off by wooden horses. Several people were vying for spots to set up their stands for the Trout Festival. Near the dock where the fishing competition would take place, men were assembling the poles for the larger tents. The sign-up sheets were posted on the Pavilion wall.

Caroline climbed the stairs and checked the names on the sheets. The Needlemeyer twins had signed up, along with Adam and the two young boys in the cabin next to The Pop-Inn. She recognized some of the other names, but they were all much younger. “Well, that settles it,” she said to herself, and stepped inside.

The jukebox was between songs. The bells and whistles from the pinball machines were sounding off. Customers stood in line at the snack stand, and the doors to the beach were flung open. She spied Megan leaning against the railing that led down to the beach, laughing at whatever Jeff, her boyfriend, was saying.

There was an air of excitement about the place, the vacationers getting swept away by the undercurrent of doing something maybe they shouldn’t be doing in the midst of an ongoing search. But wasn’t that part of the lure, to do the thing you shouldn’t? Outside in the open lot, more and more tents were constructed. Brightly colored signs were posted with promises of tasty desserts and handmade crafts. The tragedy that had started the summer was dissipating. Life at the lake was returning to normal.

Caroline found she was unable to get swept away so easily, thinking about her dream and Sara. She turned her back on the crowd at the snack stand, the kids at the pinball machines, on Megan and Jeff. She wondered if she’d find M+J carved into the Pavilion steps or painted on a rock in the woods, which brought her to thinking about her mother and Billy and, ultimately, her brother, Johnny.

She wondered if Chris’s mom, Dee Dee, had the answers to the secrets her family was unwilling to share. Maybe it was time she asked her.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Kevin pretended to be asleep when Jo got out of bed and left the cabin. She would often take long walks in the morning whenever he was home for any length of time. He took these early morning walking excursions as a personal affront. He couldn’t help it. It was as though being with him, sharing a bed for more than one night, suffocated her.

Good, he thought. Go. He was glad to be alone. It gave him time to think. He had an uneasy feeling, or maybe it was more than that, something pushing him closer to the edge, ever since the sheriff had started asking questions. Even Caroline had asked him about Billy. He had been vague with his answers, sticking to the facts she had already confessed to knowing after reading an old Lake Reporter. Why Mrs. Nester had given his daughter those old newspapers baffled him. What was she looking to get out of it? And what in the hell were Jo and Johnny whispering about the night before?

He kicked the sheets off and ran his hand down his face. He felt as though he were on a collision course with the past, and everything he had worked so hard for was slipping away. He had done it all for the love of Jo. And he’d do it again if he had to. He wasn’t going to lie here and take it.

The cabin was empty except for Johnny snoring in the back bedroom. Damn kid could sleep the day away. Kevin decided to head down to the lake for the latest news. He wasn’t two steps out the door when he spotted the young woman Patricia stumbling down the dirt road. Her hair was tied in messy braids underneath a big crazy sun hat. Her blouse and flowing skirt looked slept in. Her sandals slapped the bottoms of her feet as she wove her way down the hill. If Kevin didn’t know better, he’d think she was drunk.

She didn’t notice him. How could she with her back to him and her head down? He had heard who she was from a couple of the fishermen the last time he was in the bar. Patricia was little Pattie Dugan, daughter of Bob and Jean, the couple who had come to the lake every summer for years and then one year had packed up and left, never to return. He had stopped listening to the gossip after that. It didn’t matter why the Dugans had stopped coming. He was more interested in what made Patricia, Pattie, come back.

He started following her, lagging far enough behind so she wouldn’t hear him—or if she did, she wouldn’t be alarmed. It was the road everyone in the colony took to the lake unless they took the path that cut through the woods, but which most adults avoided for practical reasons, bugs, poison ivy, or Cougar, Stimpy’s noisy, pathetic dog.

The sun was high in the sky, promising another hot day. He reached into his pocket for the pack of smokes. He paused briefly to light up. The Pavilion was open for business, and it was bustling. The parking lot was full of lake locals and their tents. Everyone was preparing for the Trout Festival. Heil was a man who got his way more often than not. He was a man who got things done, and nothing was going to stop this festival from taking place. It was one of the biggest money-makers of the season. People from all around the Poconos area, from all different vacation sites, flocked to the lake for a day of fishing, food, and crafts. The locals made a killing.

Kevin watched Patricia shuffle through the chaos. Most people got out of her way and looked a little guilty upon seeing her. The underwater recovery team was in the middle of lake doing their job. A few fishing boats were also out on the lake, but they respectfully kept their distance from the watercraft, although if they had any respect, they wouldn’t be out there at all.

Patricia stopped and gazed out at the lake. She started walking again, heading straight for the docks. Kevin followed, stopping briefly to say hello to Mr. and Mrs. Roberts, Megan’s parents, who were carrying their beach chairs, obviously going to the swimming area to enjoy the day, drowning, be damned. Stimpy had his men working near the docks. Nate waved as Kevin passed. There were too many distractions, and Patricia was almost clear to the other side of the lake by the time Kevin broke free from the crowd. He passed Eddie’s cabin and found Sheila sitting outside on the front porch with a cup of coffee and the Lake Reporter. He dropped his cigarette and stepped on it.

“Join me,” Sheila said.

He glanced in the direction in which Patricia had been walking along the docks. Then he sat next to Sheila, deciding it was better to chat for a few minutes than make up some lie about where he was going and what he was doing.