Shadow Lake. B.J. Daniels
Lucinda and what he’d seen last night was like a tooth-ache that wouldn’t let him forget it. Eventually he would have to deal with it.
He’d set his wife up.
And she’d taken the bait.
That’s what a man his age got for marrying a woman too young and pretty for him, he thought as he stepped from the shower.
Just the thought of facing Lucinda with what he knew made him break into a cold sweat. He clenched his fist, slamming it into the mirror. Glass shards and blood went everywhere.
He wrapped his hand in a towel. There were only a few small cuts. He wouldn’t bleed to death.
He stared at his reflection in what was left of the mirror. Hair graying, shoulders slumped, gait shuffling and unsure. Hell, he looked just like his old man right before the poor son of a bitch blew his brains out.
ANNA DIDN’T REMEMBER DROPPING off to sleep after her call to Mary Ellen. She’d been upset and had gotten off the line, promising to call back.
Now she shot straight up in bed and reached for the call button, fumbling with it, afraid she would lose the memory that she’d dragged to the surface. When the nurse named Connie had come hurrying in, Anna asked to see the doctor.
“I’ll call him,” she said. “Eat some of your dinner while you wait.” She sounded worried. “Doc won’t be long. He only lives a couple of blocks from here.”
Anna looked over at the tray next to her bed. Her stomach growled. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. She vaguely recalled a breakfast and lunch tray, but didn’t remember touching either. She hadn’t been hungry for so long.
Now, though, she felt ravenous. She dug into the food, not tasting it, but knowing she needed the nourishment. She knew that after Tyler’s death, she’d lost her will to live. There didn’t seem to be any reason to get out of bed in the mornings. No wonder Marc had felt so abandoned. No wonder he’d wanted a divorce.
Her need to remember what had happened last night was driving her not to fall back into that dark depression. Last night was like a puzzle that she needed to solve. That she could solve. Not like the alleged hit-and-run that had taken her son. The pieces to that puzzle had been lost forever.
But this accident she might be able to unravel, and she still felt as if she desperately needed to.
She was anxious to tell the doctor what she remembered. Unlike Officer Walker, the doctor seemed to believe her and want to help her remember. She didn’t need any more mysteries in her life. Any more secrets.
Her dinner was lukewarm, but she ate the roast beef and mashed potatoes and canned corn as if it was a gourmet meal from her favorite four-star restaurant. She’d downed the glass of milk after polishing off the apple crisp just before Dr. Brubaker stuck his rumpled gray head in her doorway.
She shoved the tray away. “I remember going into the lake,” she said excitedly. “I mean I remember being in the water. I remember almost everything.”
He smiled, seeming pleased as he pulled up a chair next to her bed and lowered himself into it. “That must be a huge relief to you.”
“I swerved to miss a deer and lost control of the car.” She could see it now, the darkness, the rain, the deer bolting out of the trees. Her heart began to pound as she saw the car skidding toward the small saplings in her memory, crashing down the mountainside, plunging into the lake.
Oh God, the lake. The water. She shuddered as she recalled the water.
“I couldn’t get the seat belt to release.” Suddenly her heart was pounding so hard she couldn’t catch her breath, but she also couldn’t stop. She could feel the panic attack coming on. And then she felt his hand cover hers.
“You’re safe now. It’s all right. It can’t hurt you.”
She nodded and lay back against the pillows, tears of fear blurring her eyes. “I remember being underwater, thinking I was going to die.”
“Do you remember getting out of the car?” he asked.
“No.” She made a swipe at her tears with her free hand, not wanting to break contact with the warmth of his hand covering hers. Her mother had died when Anna was nine. Her father when she was seventeen. She’d been so disappointed that neither had lived to see their grandson born. Marc’s parents were both still alive but had no apparent interest in grandchildren.
“I was trapped in the car,” Anna said, refusing to let the memory slip away again. “I remember thinking I was going to drown. I had to breathe.” She stopped, her gaze locking with his. “I heard a sound at my side window.” A slice of pure ice cut through her, but she didn’t force the memory away. “There was someone in the water.”
“Someone else was in the lake?” the doctor asked. “Your son?”
“No,” she said quickly. “Tyler is…wasn’t there. The person in the water was a man. At least I think it was a man. His face…” Anna shuddered at the memory and heard a sound at her hospital-room door. She looked up with a start to find Officer Walker framed in the doorway.
The expression on his face was almost as terrifying as the memory of being under the water and seeing something—someone—floating on the other side of her window.
“You say there was someone else in the lake?” the cop asked as he stepped into the room, his brow furrowed. “Your memory coming back, Mrs. Collins?”
Was it her imagination, or did the doctor look alarmed by the policeman’s tone?
“I need to ask your patient a few more questions,” Officer Walker said, never taking his eyes off Anna. “You’re welcome to stay, Doc, if you feel it’s necessary.”
Dr. Brubaker looked from the cop to her. “Do you want me to stay?”
She nodded even though it hurt her head. She didn’t trust her voice.
“I talked to your husband,” Walker said.
“Marc?” She wasn’t sure why the thought of Marc talking to the officer upset her, but it did. “He knows I’m here?”
The cop frowned. “Is that a problem?”
“No. Of course not. I just didn’t want him…worried.”
“Why would he be worried?” Walker asked.
She said nothing, feeling confused, head aching.
“You are still Mrs. Collins, aren’t you?”
Anna opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again. “I didn’t know Marc hadn’t gone through with the divorce until I talked to a friend earlier. I had no idea.”
He studied her openly then asked, “You don’t remember your husband telling you last night?”
“No.” Her voice sounded small, scared.
“But you were just saying that your memory has come back,” he reminded her.
“Not all of it.” Her fingers went to her scar.
“Why don’t you tell the officer what you told me,” the doctor suggested.
She swallowed, her throat dry and scratchy. Her head ached and she felt tired again, her earlier excitement about getting back some of her memory replaced by fear.
She told Officer Walker about the deer, losing control of the car, going into the lake and seeing someone on the bottom.
The cop gave her an unbelieving look. “Your husband told me you were upset when you left home last night. Can you tell me what that was about?”
So she had seen Marc last night at the house? “No. That is, I don’t know. I don’t remember seeing my husband last night or what I might have been upset about.”
The