Summit Lake Page 12

  “And you came here behind my back to get your thoughts straight?”

  “No,” Jack said with some force behind his voice. “I came here to spend Christmas with Becca, because she and her family invited me. None of it was done behind your back because before the other day I didn’t know my relationship with Becca had anything to do with you.”

  “Okay, guys. Let’s take a break for a minute,” Becca said.

  “Does Gail know?”

  “No one knows,” Becca said. “We didn’t know how to tell you guys.”

  Brad slowly walked past them to the front of the house where his rental was parked. He climbed in and started the engine.

  “Where are you going?” Becca asked as she followed him.

  “Not here.”

  “Come inside, Brad. Meet my parents. Spend the night so we can talk.”

  “I already met your parents, and they probably think I’m an idiot.”

  He backed the rental from the driveway. Becca and Jack watched their friend drive away without saying good-bye. They were left with each other, standing in front of stilt houses decorated with Christmas lights.

  CHAPTER 16

  Kelsey Castle

  Summit Lake

  March 10, 2012

  Day 6

  The red numbers on her digital alarm clock flashed again. 4:45 a.m. Tossing for an hour now, she finally sat up in bed and slid her legs from under the covers until her bare feet touched the carpet. Her hands shook as she stared into the dark room. She sat still for several minutes, trying to control her breathing and her emotions and her mind. Finally, she buried her face in her palms and began to cry. Her mind struggled all night to find answers to why she endured a savage attack and survived, while Becca Eckersley had not.

  Forcing herself back to work and then coming to Summit Lake to take on Becca’s story felt like cheating—using Becca as a way to repair her own spirit. But Kelsey didn’t know a better way. Her immediate reaction in the wake of her survival had been to complain about Penn Courtney giving her a paid month off from work, and to stand ready to strike like a rattlesnake at anyone who offered her sympathy or dared to ask how she was doing. But now, having walked through the Eckersleys’ home and in Becca’s footsteps, Kelsey’s perspective changed. She had her life. She was alive. She was healthy and healing.

  As she sat in her dark hotel room in a small town in the Blue Ridge Mountains, Kelsey Castle knew she was being called—if not by Becca herself, then by some higher entity—to find the answers that had eluded this town. With a deep breath, she climbed out of bed and put on jeans and a sweater. She locked her hotel room and took the empty stairwell to the lobby. Outside, a brisk lake breeze greeted her. The wind ran up the mountains to the west and cascaded back in a circular jaunt that brought with it the smoky scent of wood-burning fireplaces. Darkness filled the sky without a hint of sunrise. Only streetlamps offered a soft yellow glow at intersections. Summit Lake was peacefully quiet.

  Kelsey sucked in the clean mountain air as she headed down the main drag on her way to the shore. As she walked toward the corner of Maple and Tomahawk, Kelsey noticed lights above the coffeehouse—a startling contrast to the darkness the rest of the town hid under. She saw the drapes were open and as she got closer she heard a knock on the second-story window, which shot open. Rae stuck her head into the cold morning air.

  “What are you doing out there?”

  “Couldn’t sleep,” Kelsey said.

  “Get in here. I’ll open the front door.”

  A few seconds later Rae unlocked the café and held the door open. Kelsey noticed she was already dressed and showered. Her eyes were young and bright, without sleep or puffiness. Her sandy hair was newly blown dry and carried a soft glow of fresh conditioner.

  Kelsey ran a hand over her puffy hair and licked her chapped lips as she walked into the cafe. “You look perfect, all fresh and perky. What time do you get up?”

  “Just before four. The oven goes on at four-thirty.”

  “That’s insane.”

  “Maybe for some, but I love it,” Rae said. “Come back to the kitchen, I’ve gotta pull the scones. Coffee’s on.”

  Kelsey followed Rae past the long mahogany bar and through the opening next to the register. She walked into the kitchen where Rae motioned for her to help herself to the stainless steel coffeepot on the counter. As she poured two mugs, she saw Rae don a red apron and pull a tray of scones from the oven. It was just before 5:00 a.m., and Kelsey watched Rae move around the kitchen as if it were noon.

  “I take a little cream,” Rae said. “And lots of sugar.”

  Kelsey prepared the coffee, then placed the cup on the island where Rae was running icing over the scones.

  “Smells good.” Kelsey said.

  “Doesn’t it?” Rae said. Her eyes jetted to Kelsey, then back to the scones. “I see you looking at me like I’m nuts.”

  “Me? No, I wasn’t.”

  “Don’t worry. I give most people that impression when they find out I get up so early, and sometimes stay so late. You’d think I’d get used to it or bored with it, but I don’t. Not with the smells or the work or the crowd that comes through. Lots of regulars whom I’ve gotten to know well, and I love talking to them.” Rae pointed the icer at Kelsey. “That’s how you know you’re doing what you were meant to do. When you never get bored with it, and you never want to do anything else.”

  “Ever thought of opening your own cafe?”

  “Oh, yeah. All the time. Even told Livvy Houston I was thinking of becoming her competition. But the thing is, Livvy doesn’t want this place. She’s decided to move on, so Millie—Livvy’s mom—offered the place to me. This year is my test run—to see if I can handle the place by myself. Make sure I’m sure.”

  “And?”

  “So far, so good. Livvy never stops by anymore and Millie’s too old to do much around here, so I already feel like the place is mine.”

  Rae finished the scones and put them to the side to cool. She threw a second batch in the oven and started dropping bagels into an automatic slicer. “How about you? You love your job?”

  Kelsey thought for a minute. “Yeah, I do. Can’t imagine doing anything else.”

  “Don’t you feel sad for people who hate their jobs? I mean, to wake up each day and do something you don’t like is no way to live. It’s poor parenting, I think. When you’re a kid, you don’t know what you want. No ten-year-old kid dreams of being an accountant. No little girl wants to grow up to be a sales rep. Right? And those are fine jobs and lots of people are happy doing them all their life. But if no one tells you when you’re a kid to dream, then you just go through life and do the things everyone else does, sometimes the things your parents do.” Rae grabbed her coffee and took a sip. “I don’t know, I’m too philosophical in the morning, but you know what I’m saying? Do what you love to do. And if you end up not loving it, do something else.”

  Kelsey smiled at the girl’s enthusiasm. “I know exactly what you’re saying, and it’s good advice. I don’t think you’re too anything this morning except happy with your life. Maybe a little too amped up on caffeine at 5:00 a.m., but there’s nothing wrong with that.”

  Rae laughed. “I think you and I are gonna get along. So why can’t you sleep?”

  Kelsey looked at the ceiling. “Why can’t I sleep?” she said to herself, mulling the question. “You have a few hours?”

  “Oh,” Rae said. Nodding her head. “Sounds like boy issues.” Kelsey raised her eyebrows. “Hardly.”

  “I heard there was a doctor at the hospital who was helping you with research or something.”

  “Really? Where did you hear this?”

  Rae shrugged her shoulders. “I also heard he’s nice looking.”

  “What are you talking about?” Kelsey was laughing now. “He’s twice my age.”

  “That’s not true. I heard he’s, like, forty. Maybe forty-five. How old are you?”

  “Thirty.”

>   “Twice your age is sixty, so stop exaggerating and avoiding the question. Is he good looking?”

  “Where are you getting your information?”

  Rae smiled. “I run the only coffee shop in a very small town where everyone is talking about Becca Eckersley’s death. And everyone knows there’s a journalist from Events magazine poking around. People talk, and in this town those people usually talk to me. So if you’re trying to keep a secret while you’re here, you won’t be able to.”

  “Unless you murder a young law student, then you can disappear into the night.”

  Rae puckered her lower lip. “Touché. But my point is that if you don’t want me to know you’re hanging out with a good-looking doctor, don’t have dinner with him a block away from here.”

  “He helped me with some medical records I was looking for.”

  “Really,” Rae said. “And that’s it? Nothing more to the story?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When I find you wandering the streets before sunrise, I assume a boy is the reason.”

  Kelsey smiled. “I assure you, Peter Ambrose is not keeping me up at night. We just met.”

  “Ooh,” Rae said with wide eyes. “Then that’s called ‘pre-romantic’ boy issues, and they can be more complicated than full-on, in-the-trenches romantic boy problems.” She dropped the last bagel into the slicer and pointed to the oven where another batch of scones was baking. “Those will take about forty minutes. Let’s head up front.”

  Still before sunrise, the corner lamppost spilled through the windows and cast quiet shadows across the café. Rae clicked on a standing lamp next to the fireplace, washing the leather chairs in warm auburn light. She put logs into the fireplace and placed a match below them. As she and Kelsey settled into the chairs the logs resisted the flames with loud cracking noises.

  “So if it’s not a boy, then what’s the reason you can’t sleep?” Rae asked.

  “I guess you could say Becca Eckersley is keeping me up at night.”

  “Really? That’s creepy.”

  “It’s the way I am. Once I get hooked on a case, it’s all I can think about. And the things I’m learning about this case have my mind going a hundred miles an hour.” Kelsey paused. “And I can’t stop . . .”

  “Stop what?”

  “I don’t know. Thinking about life and death and how it can all be taken from us so quickly.”

  “Yeah?” Rae stared at her, reading the expression on Kelsey’s face. “This case got you thinking of all that?”

  “It did.”

  “Dish.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Dish. Tell me what’s going on with you.”

  Kelsey made a funny face.

  “Stop it,” Rae said. “I’ve read everything you’ve ever written. Your book—twice—and all your articles, which include many homicides. You wrote about a missing six-year-old last year, which ended very badly. And you wrote about the nut job down there in Florida who made her kid sniff chloroform and accidentally OD’d her, then buried her a mile from her home. So don’t tell me you can’t handle coming to a small town and writing about the death of a law student. I don’t buy it. So what’s up? Why are you so bothered by this?”

  Kelsey sipped her coffee. It was strange how people knew her so well through her writings. “Ever thought about being a shrink?”

  “Never. Now dish.”

  Kelsey wasn’t sure why she wanted to tell this girl about the things that were bothering her. Or why, after barely knowing her, she felt she could confide in Rae. She couldn’t explain the reason she was about to tell this girl something she had refused to talk to the psychologist about. But there was something about Rae. A charisma that broke through to Kelsey, made her feel comfortable. She took a deep breath.

  “I walked through the stilt house yesterday.”

  Rae pointed out the window toward the lake. “The Eckersleys’?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I thought it was off-limits.”

  “It is. But the police chief let me take a look. Pulled the tape for a few minutes.”

  “How’d you manage that?”

  Kelsey shrugged. “He’s frustrated with the state guys taking over. He doesn’t like the direction they’re moving the investigation in. So I’m sort of his private way to get things done correctly.”

  “Yeah? What did you find?”

  “I don’t know. Nothing, I guess. But I stood where Becca stood. Walked in the footsteps of a girl who was raped and then murdered, and it got me thinking that the same thing damn near happened to me.”

  Rae slowly lifted her chin. She didn’t need to ask another question or push any harder.

  Kelsey exhaled a long, shaky breath. “This assignment was meant to get me out of the office and back on my feet after some time off. Time off I was forced to take after I was . . . you know, assaulted—same as Becca.”

  “Jesus, Kelsey. When?”

  “Few weeks ago.”

  “What happened?”

  Kelsey’s eyes were glassy with tears, but she refused to let them spill down her cheeks. “I was jogging one morning. On the same path I’ve taken a thousand times before. Had my headphones in and was in my own little endorphin world. He came from the woods. A straight grab-and-drag, the kind I’ve written about before, but I was suddenly living it myself. I was startled at first, didn’t know what was happening. When I finally figured it all out, it was too late. I fought for my life. Woke up in the hospital a day later.”

  Rae just stared at her for a minute. “I don’t know what to say. I’m usually blunt and direct, but I didn’t mean to—you don’t have to tell me any more.”

  “No, no. You didn’t pull it out of me. The truth is, I need to talk about it. Haven’t actually talked with anyone about it, including the shrink they set me up with.” Kelsey forced a smile. “You should feel honored, Rae. This is a coffeehouse confession of epic proportions for me.”

  Rae smiled. “I’m glad you’ve got a good attitude.”

  “The other choice is to let it control me, and I’m determined not to.”

  “They catch the guy?”

  Kelsey shook her head. “He wore a mask. Couldn’t ID him.”

  There was silence for a minute.

  “How are you?” Rae finally asked.

  “I’m moving on. Putting myself back together. And I was doing a helluva job at it, I really was. Until I walked into that house yesterday and it made it all so real and close.” Kelsey looked into the fire. “The same thing could have happened to me, and someone else might be writing about my death.”

  “Yeah, but it didn’t.”

  “No, it didn’t. But why not? Why Becca and not me? That question is why I can’t sleep. And I realized in the middle of the night that I’ve got to find a way to help this girl. I’ve got to get some closure for her.”

  “Sounds like a good way to help yourself, too.”

  Kelsey shrugged and took a sip of coffee. “Probably.”

  There was a knock on the front door and Kelsey saw a couple standing on the sidewalk.

  “Damn,” Rae said, looking at the wall clock. “Six o’clock comes early. Gotta open this place and get those scones out of the oven.”

  “Sorry to keep you.”

  “You didn’t keep me from anything. Thanks for the company this morning, and for trusting me with your story. Keep fighting, Kelsey. You’re a tough girl, I can tell.”

  Kelsey smiled and headed for the door. “I’ll unlock the front. Don’t let those scones burn.”

  “Thanks,” Rae said. “And, Kelsey, come back and visit sometime. I want to hear more, or anything you feel like telling me.”

  “I will.”

  “I might even be able to help you with the Eckersley case.”

  “Oh yeah? How’s that?”

  “You know the gossip group? The busybodies who sit at the bar? From the other morning?”

  Kelsey nodded, remembering the coffeehouse debate
that took place at the bar.

  “Rumor has it she kept a journal.”

  Kelsey stopped walking and turned.

  Rae smiled. “I’ll do some snooping and see what I come up with. Give me a day or so.”

  She disappeared into the kitchen. Kelsey unlocked the front door and let the couple into the cafe, then walked down Tomahawk Drive toward the lake to watch the sunrise.

  CHAPTER 17

  Becca Eckersley

  George Washington University

  March 14, 2011

  Eleven months before her death

  The semester crawled by with long days spent figuring out their schedules and the best way to avoid each other. Awkward encounters, however, were impossible to avoid. The last time they talked was on the deck of the stilt house, and after a month of failure, Becca and Jack stopped trying to get through to Brad. Nothing could be said to change his opinion of them. So Becca and Jack avoided him as much as they could. When forced to go home, Jack did so late at night. Brad’s bedroom door was usually closed, and on the rare occasion Jack entered the apartment to find Brad in the living room, a common scene followed of Brad standing from the couch, clicking off the television, and closing his bedroom door behind him.

  Becca talked to Jack about moving out, but he was tied to the apartment for the rest of the semester and his free ride included just about everything but room and board. What his parents sent each month was barely half his rent, and he covered the rest with his job on campus. He turned down Becca’s offer to help him with her own money. He would hunker down for two more months and finish his senior year in the apartment. It wasn’t hard to find an alternate place to stay. Gail was genuinely happy for them, and didn’t care that Jack spent almost every night in Becca’s room.

  In March, Becca received her acceptance letter to George Washington Law and she and Jack celebrated with a nice dinner. Two weeks later, Gail got into the law program at Stanford, and she and Becca celebrated with beers at Bucky’s, then cried when they realized they would be so far away from each other. Jack’s letter from Harvard came a day later and the three of them toasted in Becca’s apartment, where they laid the three acceptance letters next to each other and raised their glasses to what lay ahead.