Christ, loudspeakers out here? Why? Then the answer came.
“Turn your boat around immediately. You are leaving Paterville property.”
A recorded voice. Just triggered by their arrival here? Or did someone send those blasts, the messages?
The message repeated.
“Turn your boat around now!”
“Daddy,” Kate said, “are we in trouble?”
Jack forced a smile. “Oh, right—big trouble. The canoe police will want to have a chat with us.”
That made her face ease a bit.
“My paddle!” Simon said, as if a reminder.
Then another horn blast.
“All right, here’s what we’re gonna do. Let me just do the paddling here—”
Can that even be done? Jack thought. From the middle of the canoe?
“—and I’ll get us over to Simon’s paddle. Then we’ll figure out how to turn around and get back.”
He looked from Simon, then to Kate.
“Okay, then?”
They nodded.
“Here we go.”
It took longer to get the paddle than it had to canoe all the way out there. But Jack eventually got to it, reached down, and picked it up.
“Here you go. Back in business,” he said to Simon. Then to Kate: “Now, I think, if you just do this…”
Jack again modeled the angle and position with his paddle.
“And if Simon and I row nice and straight, we should turn around fine. And head back.”
He made sure he didn’t look back at the cliff edge, the burned out places barely visible behind the bushes and trees.
But the thought: The horn. They don’t want anyone seeing that.
“Will that horn blow again?” Simon asked.
Jack looked up, back to the shore.
“No. I think they know we got the message.”
This time, Kate got the position right.
When the canoe was finally pointed straight at the beach, they began paddling as before, streaming through the water, heading back to the Paterville beach.
Moving quickly away from the secret on the lake.
Jack had expected Ed Lowe to be waiting for them, a reprimand at the ready.
But only the attendant was on the dock.
Freddy waited, arms folded, until they had gingerly stepped out of the canoe and onto the dock.
“I told you,” he said, dully, like a parent reminding a kid of some chore forgotten a dozen or more times, “not to go past that point. No one goes past that point.”
Jack took the life preservers from the kids and handed them to the attendant.
“Had a little trouble with the steering. Maybe put some damn rudders on these things.”
The joke brought nothing. Freddy gathered all three preservers on one arm and started to turn.
“Hey,” Jack said.
Still smiling, still keeping it light.
More for his kids than the sullen attendant.
Did this kid even know what was out there?
“What’s with the horns? Pretty loud.”
Freddy didn’t stop. Jack followed him to the storage container.
“They warn you.” The kid picked up the lid and tossed in the jackets. “Least they’re supposed to warn you.”
“We heard them, all right.”
“Dad, can I go back to the cottage?” Kate said.
“Sure. Take Simon.”
In seconds, they had left the dock. The splintery storage container lid slammed down hard.
The attendant moved to his chair. Picked up a clipboard.
Lot of important paperwork with this job, Jack thought.
“Looks like there was a fire up there,” he said.
He studied the kid, focused on his clipboard.
When the kid didn’t respond, Jack took a step closer. “Know anything about that?”
Finally, the kid looked up, his eyes narrowed. Jack could feel the anger there. Freddy didn’t like the questions.
“Nope. Never been out that far.”
Back to the clipboard.
Jack walked away, catching up with his kids, already back on the beach, knowing that Freddy knew exactly what was on those cliffs.
But something more than that worried Jack.
The look in Freddy’s dull eyes.
The anger. Something familiar about it.
The sky remained as blue and crisp as before. A beautiful sky.
But as Jack walked back to the beach, he took no notice of it.
30. 4:55 P.M.
Christie was still in the cottage when Jack came out of the shower.
“I thought you were going with the kids to the game room?”
“They’re okay,” she said. “Told them we’d meet them there before dinner.”
Jack had wrapped one towel in classic fashion around his torso. He used another to dry his hair. “So,” he said between drying, “why do I have the feeling that you’re waiting for me?”
“Simon told me about the horns. You weren’t going to mention that?”
Jack looked at her and nodded. “Yes. We heard horns. I was going to tell you. But later.”
“When?”
“When the kids were gone. The whole thing rattled them enough without them seeing us talking about it.”
She hesitated a few moments, as if weighing the validity of what Jack had said. “Okay. Probably a good idea. But Jack”—she stood up—“what the hell? Alarms? On a lake?”
“Apparently.”
Should he tell her what he had seen? Not yet, he thought. Not until he knew more.
“Alarm horns. I don’t get it. Do you? What—”
“Hold that thought—let me get dressed. Then I’ll see if the Blairs have surfaced for dinner.”
“If they’re still here.”
He went into the bedroom.
The door to the Blairs’ cottage was shut.
Most of the cabins only kept their screen doors shut, letting the cool early evening breeze blow in.
He knocked.
No answer.
Why would they have their door shut?
Kids away playing? Some adult quality time, perhaps?
Sharon Blair didn’t look like the most playful of women, though.
He started to turn away when the door opened.
Shana stood there, the mesh of the screen door giving her a shadowy look.
“Yes? Oh, Jack. Hi.”
“I was looking for the Blairs.”
Shana opened the screen door, held it a second and backed away. Jack took hold of the door as she walked back to the interior of the cabin.
Jack followed her through the living room, back to one of the bedrooms.
To see the bed.
Which had been stripped. Shana shook the pillows out of their cases, letting the pillows fall onto the bare mattress.
“Where are the Blairs?”
“They’re not here.”
The sheets lay in a pile by one wall. All the drawers of the dresser were open, empty.
Shana scooped up the pillowcases and threw them onto the floor.
“They’re gone.”
“Really? They said they were staying a few more days.”
Shana kicked the pile of sheets and pillowcases away. Now she gave Jack her full attention.
“As you can see, they’re gone.”
“What happened?”
She smiled.
“Happened? I don’t know, Jack. Not my department. Maybe problems with their credit. Paterville isn’t free.”
Her scent, so strong in the small room.
Jack became acutely aware of where they were. Shana closed the row of open drawers with a bump from her body, facing Jack as she did so.
Did Shana normally clean out guestrooms?
He looked at the sheets, left in a pile.