more comfortable talking about someone else. “Everyone knows Peter.”
“Is he your friend?”
“No.” Grace said in a don’t-be-ridiculous tone. “Definitely not.”
“Really?” Carly said. “You’re both honor students and everything.”
“Oh, yeah. Peter’s smart all right.” Grace picked at the cuticle on her thumb. “Peter is a player.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I don’t know.” Grace pressed her lips together until they lost color. Why didn’t she want to talk about Peter? “Look, he’s just not my type.”
“What about Russ Warner? You know him?”
Grace obliterated her picture with a rough swipe of her hand, then stood, rubbing her palms together to brush off the dirt. “I have to go.” She crossed into a circle of teenagers and disappeared.
A mosquito landed on Carly’s arm. She swatted at it. Her hand came away spotted with blood. They should go soon. She returned to the lake to join her daughter and brother.
Brianna was floating on her back, her arms spread wide on the lake’s surface. “Look what I can do, Mommy!” She jerked her head around to make sure she had Carly’s attention. Her butt sank and her head went under briefly.
“Remember, you have to relax, sillyhead.” Bruce supported her with one hand under her body.
Brianna returned to her task, her face scrunched in concentration. When she’d achieved float, Bruce removed his hand. With a sudden lunge, he dunked Carly. She went under. Lake water flooded her mouth and nose. Sputtering, she broke the surface and pushed her wet hair off her face. Her mouth tasted like moss.
She splashed him. “You are in so much trouble.”
“What are you going to do? Tell Mom?” he retorted in a smart-alecky tone worthy of a grade schooler. His eyes crinkled with humor. Next to him Brianna giggled, flipped over, and doggy-paddled. Bruce looped a hand around the child’s waist and steered her closer to shore so she could stand.
“You wait and see.” Carly gave him her best evil eye. “I always get even. It’ll happen when you least expect it.”
“Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition?” he joked.
“Exactly.” Carly fought the laugh rising in her throat, but humor tugged at the corners of her mouth.
He splashed back and swam a few feet away, but Carly was pleased to note the apprehension in his gaze. Brianna doggy-paddled out to Bruce.
He gave the beach a quick glance. “Okay, sillyhead. I think we’d better pack up. Our beach is being stormed by teenagers.”
“And we have fried chicken at home.” Brianna climbed on his back and wrapped her arms around his neck. With a cough, Bruce moved her bony forearm off his windpipe and swam for shore.
Even as her heart warmed at the sight of her brother and Brianna’s easy affection, Carly began plotting playful payback. Sibling rivalries were ingrained. Bruce would be disappointed if she didn’t retaliate.
But in the back of her mind, her conversation with Grace replayed. Maybe Peter wasn’t as innocent as he appeared.
She followed Bruce and Brianna onto the beach. As they dried off, sudden unease drew Carly’s gaze to the woods. At seven in the evening, the sun slanted over the treetops, its rays weakening. The shadows along the edge of the lake lengthened, encroaching on the beach.
A figure stood just beyond the tree line. An outlier, separate and distinct from the lake party crowd. The body was large and male, but darkness obliterated the features. Even without seeing his face, Carly felt his gaze on her skin. Despite the warmth in the evening air, goose bumps rose on her arms. She couldn’t see his expression, but he radiated tension. It rolled over the ground between them like an invisible fog.
It felt like Darren Fisher’s stare, and how many people were that big?
If Brianna hadn’t been with her, Carly might have attempted to verify his identity, but all she wanted to do was get her daughter home.
“I’m starving.” She nudged Brianna toward
“Is he your friend?”
“No.” Grace said in a don’t-be-ridiculous tone. “Definitely not.”
“Really?” Carly said. “You’re both honor students and everything.”
“Oh, yeah. Peter’s smart all right.” Grace picked at the cuticle on her thumb. “Peter is a player.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I don’t know.” Grace pressed her lips together until they lost color. Why didn’t she want to talk about Peter? “Look, he’s just not my type.”
“What about Russ Warner? You know him?”
Grace obliterated her picture with a rough swipe of her hand, then stood, rubbing her palms together to brush off the dirt. “I have to go.” She crossed into a circle of teenagers and disappeared.
A mosquito landed on Carly’s arm. She swatted at it. Her hand came away spotted with blood. They should go soon. She returned to the lake to join her daughter and brother.
Brianna was floating on her back, her arms spread wide on the lake’s surface. “Look what I can do, Mommy!” She jerked her head around to make sure she had Carly’s attention. Her butt sank and her head went under briefly.
“Remember, you have to relax, sillyhead.” Bruce supported her with one hand under her body.
Brianna returned to her task, her face scrunched in concentration. When she’d achieved float, Bruce removed his hand. With a sudden lunge, he dunked Carly. She went under. Lake water flooded her mouth and nose. Sputtering, she broke the surface and pushed her wet hair off her face. Her mouth tasted like moss.
She splashed him. “You are in so much trouble.”
“What are you going to do? Tell Mom?” he retorted in a smart-alecky tone worthy of a grade schooler. His eyes crinkled with humor. Next to him Brianna giggled, flipped over, and doggy-paddled. Bruce looped a hand around the child’s waist and steered her closer to shore so she could stand.
“You wait and see.” Carly gave him her best evil eye. “I always get even. It’ll happen when you least expect it.”
“Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition?” he joked.
“Exactly.” Carly fought the laugh rising in her throat, but humor tugged at the corners of her mouth.
He splashed back and swam a few feet away, but Carly was pleased to note the apprehension in his gaze. Brianna doggy-paddled out to Bruce.
He gave the beach a quick glance. “Okay, sillyhead. I think we’d better pack up. Our beach is being stormed by teenagers.”
“And we have fried chicken at home.” Brianna climbed on his back and wrapped her arms around his neck. With a cough, Bruce moved her bony forearm off his windpipe and swam for shore.
Even as her heart warmed at the sight of her brother and Brianna’s easy affection, Carly began plotting playful payback. Sibling rivalries were ingrained. Bruce would be disappointed if she didn’t retaliate.
But in the back of her mind, her conversation with Grace replayed. Maybe Peter wasn’t as innocent as he appeared.
She followed Bruce and Brianna onto the beach. As they dried off, sudden unease drew Carly’s gaze to the woods. At seven in the evening, the sun slanted over the treetops, its rays weakening. The shadows along the edge of the lake lengthened, encroaching on the beach.
A figure stood just beyond the tree line. An outlier, separate and distinct from the lake party crowd. The body was large and male, but darkness obliterated the features. Even without seeing his face, Carly felt his gaze on her skin. Despite the warmth in the evening air, goose bumps rose on her arms. She couldn’t see his expression, but he radiated tension. It rolled over the ground between them like an invisible fog.
It felt like Darren Fisher’s stare, and how many people were that big?
If Brianna hadn’t been with her, Carly might have attempted to verify his identity, but all she wanted to do was get her daughter home.
“I’m starving.” She nudged Brianna toward
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