Cabin by the Lake (16 page)

Rocco quietly entered the unlocked front door of the house. He was just crossing the kitchen, thinking that he might just help himself to something good to eat, when he heard someone enter from the back, humming a tune. He snatched a butcher knife from the counter and prepared himself. But the hummer, Lydia’s aunt, turned and disappeared down the hallway without seeing him.

Should he continue with the plan? His hand shook as he held the knife. He didn’t enjoy being indecisive; it made him feel weak. He hesitated, and thought he heard someone else coming, but it was just the sound of the toilet flushing. His heart was pounding, and his forehead broke out in a cold sweat.

Move on!
his brain commanded, his breath coming in short gasps. It wasn’t important that she find the note on her pillow; it was only important that she receive it. He spun around, panic making it hard to think. The refrigerator! That would be such a bizarre place to find a threatening note. She might even wonder if the food inside had been poisoned.

He heard the old broad coming. That would ruin his plan if he had to kill her first. He snatched open the refrigerator door and saw that it was packed with food. Quickly, he grabbed a big Tupperware container and placed the note in the empty space. As he did, he heard Lydia’s aunt coming back down the hall, and he spun on his heel and headed out the front door and into the woods.

Once settled behind shrubbery where he had a clear view of the picnic table, his anger mounted. That did not go as he had planned it at all. His hands were shaking. In the old days, he would have calmly carried out his plan, and it would have been successful. Now he felt he was fraying at the seams, and was dismayed at how quickly he had bolted from the kitchen.

But he was tired and hungry, he reasoned. He’d been too vigilant in his watchfulness, and he needed rest. He’d rest tonight, and when the time came, he would be ready. When there was no one around to interfere with the festivities he had in store for Lydia, he would be ready then. That’s all that mattered.

He dug his fingers into the lemon meringue pie that he was surprised to find he was still clutching, and ate, delicately licking each dirty finger between bites. He watched the two couples eat their steaks and heard their laughter. If he could have seen himself, he would have been reminded of the times he’d hidden and watched the High Pointe kids playing, wishing he could have been a part of it.

But Rocco drew no such similarities in his mind. He had always been on the outside looking in; and the feeling was normal.

He ate his pie, thinking now that the note in the refrigerator would bring just the right touch of horror to the situation. Finding it there would be over the top. Perhaps his genius hadn’t failed him, after all.

The aroma of burning charcoal reached Mike before he cleared the wooded path, followed by the muffled sound of a man’s voice and then Vivian’s uncharacteristic girlish giggle. As the yard came into view, he noted first that Lydia had not yet arrived, and second, that Dugger and Vivian didn’t look at all in need of chaperones. The two were sitting in lawn chairs near the grill sipping sweet tea from Mason jars, caught up in conversation.

Covered by a threadbare flowered cloth, the picnic table was set with white dishes and silverware with a cheerful vase of yellow jonquils in the middle. A rolling cart containing ice, glasses and a pitcher of tea, along with condiments and a salad, was parked near the grill.

“Hi, Mike,” Vivian called when she spotted him. “Help yourself to some tea. Lydia went to get the steaks; she should be back in a minute.”

He shook hands with Dugger, poured himself a drink and joined them.

“Vivian tells me you’re giving the cabin a facelift,” Dugger said.

He nodded. “It just needs a little polishing up.” Before he could expand, he caught sight of Lydia and felt his heart skip a beat. How did she do that to him? “There she is.”

She crossed the lawn carrying a tray covered in aluminum foil and a bundle of something under one arm. She wore yellow slacks with a white sleeveless blouse and white strappy sandals. Her hair was loose and flowing around her face and she had one of Vivian’s jonquils stuck behind one ear. He thought he’d never seen anyone so pretty in his life.

He jumped to his feet as she approached. “Need some help?”

“Sure, you can take these steaks.”

“Wow, you’re the picture of spring.” She blushed under his gaze. She had taken extra pains getting ready for the cookout and now she wondered if she was being too obvious. She didn’t know why she took the time to blow out her hair and put on makeup. It wasn’t like she was trying to impress anyone.

But what Lydia did in preparation for the cookout was nothing compared with Vivian. That poor woman tried on everything in her closet, asking her advice on every choice. “I need a haircut,” she complained, pinning it up on her crown, wisps of curls escaping around her face. “And I didn’t realize I was getting so grey. I need some color or highlights or something.”

“You look great, Aunt Vi,” she assured her. And she did. She looked younger somehow, as if the excitement of getting all fixed up put some color in her cheeks and a spring in her step. Vivian was what you would call a handsome woman, not exactly beautiful, but interesting, with wide-set eyes and full lips that were quick to smile.

“But you do need some new clothes,” she added, looking sadly at the growing pile of castoffs on her aunt’s bed.

Vivian was dismayed. “You’re right. I didn’t realize how old and ratty this stuff was looking. I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve been shopping for clothes.” They finally settled on a pair of navy slacks and a red tank, paired with a classic white cotton shirt that she wore open like a jacket. Lydia rolled the sleeves to the elbow for her and stood back to survey the results. “Perfect,” she pronounced.

“Really?” Vivian sounded dubious, turning this way and that in front of her full-length mirror. “I could stand to lose a few pounds.”

“Stop criticizing yourself,” Lydia scolded. “You look beautiful, really. I wouldn’t kid about a thing like that.”

She looked doubtful but was soon pawing through her jewelry box, looking for anything navy blue or red or white, and finally found a matching set of necklace and earrings with all three colors. “What do you think? Too much like the Fourth of July?”

“No, it’s great.” Then more gently, “But I think it’s time to take off your wedding band.”

Vivian gasped, remembering suddenly, and covered her left hand with her right. She stood still for a moment; then slowly slipped off the ring she’d worn for so many years. She looked at it with her head down for a long moment until Lydia said, “No, don’t cry, you’ll ruin your makeup, and we spent too long making you beautiful to ruin it now.”

Lydia snatched a tissue from the dresser and handed it to her. She dabbed at the corner of her eyes and took a deep breath. She carefully placed the ring in her jewelry box and closed the lid. All her joyous vigor had suddenly disappeared, leaving her looking deflated.

“This is a mistake,” she said.

Lydia gently wrapped her arms around her aunt and they stood that way, silently swaying in the gentle rhythm of comfort, until Vivian sighed, straightened her shoulders and looked her niece straight in the eye. A new expression of quiet acceptance seemed to have replaced her sorrow. “We have to live, or just wither up and die, don’t we?”

Lydia nodded.

“Then I choose to live. I may be making a big mistake right now, but that’s what life’s all about, making decisions and moving on. Yes?”

“Yes. I’m proud of you, Aunt Vi.”

“Thank you, honey.”

The mantel clock in the living room chimed and they both jumped. “Five o’clock, how can that be?” Vivian exclaimed. “I haven’t even made the salad. Dugger will be here in an hour!”

They flew into action, Vivian in the kitchen and Lydia arranging things in the yard, and lighting the charcoal. When Dugger arrived fifteen minutes early, Vivian was once again glowing with her usual good cheer and enlisted Dugger’s help loading the cart and steering it out into the yard.

Now Lydia unrolled the bundle she was carrying. “Who’s in charge of these?” She held out grilling tongs and a long-handled fork. She shook out two aprons, one of which read KISS THE COOK and the other said I’M A RARE KIND OF GUY.

The two men immediately volunteered, Dugger snatching the Kiss-the-Cook apron. The steaks went on the grill with a pleasing sizzle, making her mouth water in anticipation. The aroma instantly brought back memories of other cookouts with burgers and hotdogs on the grill, kids running around trying to catch fireflies in canning jars with holes punched in the lids.

“Whatever happened to those Japanese lanterns you used to have strung across the yard?” she asked.

Vivian shrugged. “They came down in a storm and I guess we just threw them away.”

“I remember those,” said Dugger. “I believe Carol and I were here for a Labor Day event that year, the last hoorah of the summer. That was right before Lenny left for college.”

“How is Lenny?” Vivian asked.

“He’s doing real well for himself. He and his wife, Lynn, just moved to Phoenix and they’re expecting another baby in the fall. This one’s going to be a girl, and we’re real excited about that. You remember my boy Lenny, don’t you, Lydia?”

“I sure do. He could do the best back flips off the pier.”

“Yeah, like father, like son,” Dugger laughed. “Their little boy, Jack, he’s going to be two soon; he’s a rounder. I call him Rambo, because he’s the toughest little guy I’ve ever seen.” He chuckled at the thought of his grandson. “I can’t wait to see him again.”

Vivian smiled. “He sounds wonderful. Do you get to see him much?”

“Not as much as I’d like to, but I go out there a couple times a year and they come home for Thanksgiving or Christmas.”

Mike flipped the steaks. “I’m about to put the bread on the grill. Looks like another five minutes or so and these will be perfect, unless somebody likes theirs well done.”

“Medium is fine with me,” said Lydia. “I’ll go get the potatoes out of the oven.”

“No, stay here,” said Vivian, standing up. “I’ve got to go to the little girl’s room anyway, so I’ll bring them back.”

“Okay, but don’t forget the butter and sour cream.”

“Gotcha,” Vivian called over her shoulder as she walked up the yard toward the back porch. She was smiling to herself, feeling like this wasn’t such a bad idea, after all. Dugger was easy to talk to, and she thought that spending time with someone who shared bits and pieces of the memories of your life was also not so bad.

She hummed a tune under her breath as she washed her hands in the bathroom and started down the hall toward the kitchen. Then she heard a tiny little
snick
sound that, from years of living in this house, she knew was the front door closing.

“Lydia?” There was no sound except the ticking of the mantel clock. “Dugger? Mike? Is somebody in there?” Silence met her ears.

She headed into the kitchen, fully expecting to see someone, but no one was there. Maybe they had come and gone, she thought, opening the oven and removing the baked potatoes. She dropped them into a plastic grocery bag and put it on the counter. Reaching into the refrigerator for the butter, and saw a folded piece of paper lying on the rack. She grabbed it and the butter and sour cream. Curious, she inspected the square of paper and unfolded it, which looked like a note one would pass back in high school.

The note simply said, “I’m watching you!” It was written in block letters, and Vivian turned it over and looked at the back, but that was all that was written on it. It made no sense to her. She supposed Lydia could be on some kind of diet and was leaving notes to herself as reminders not to eat, but that seemed kind of silly to her. She finally shrugged, refolded the paper and stuck it in her pocket to ask her about later. She picked up her bags and returned the way she had come.

Mike was taking the steaks off the grill when she arrived, and she passed around the potatoes just in time. Talk and laughter circled the table as many times as the steak sauce and salad dressing. Mike was quiet as he ate, soaking in the healing atmosphere of slow-paced conversation and uninhibited belly-laughs that burst from the group in spontaneous response to some little comment.

He and Dugger were getting along well, comparing ideas on fix-it jobs. Mike argued that hardwood flooring was more durable than laminate in the long run, and Dugger good-naturedly disagreed. “Take notes from the master,” Dugger said, laughing.

“Oh, that reminds me,” said Vivian. She dug into her pocket and pulled out the note she’d found, handing it to Lydia. “Is this yours?”

She looked perplexed as she took the square of paper and unfolded it. Reading it, she felt her stomach do a sick flip. “No, it’s not mine. Where did you get it?”

“In the refrigerator, of all places,” Vivian said.

“Let’s see.” Dugger held out his hand. “‘I’m watching you!’” he read aloud. “Is this a joke? What does it mean?”

“Mike? You know anything about this?” Vivian asked.

He looked at the note and shook his head.

“Well, this is a mystery. I don’t guess any of you guys came into the kitchen while I was in the bathroom, did you?”

“No, we were all out here together,” said Dugger.

“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” she continued, “but when I was coming down the hall toward the kitchen, I could have sworn I heard the front door closing. But no one was there.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy,” said Dugger. “Somebody put this note where it could be found. If none of you put it there, who else could have left it?”

Mike and Lydia exchanged glances. “Lydia and I saw something suspicious in the garage this morning,” he said. “Vivian, we were going to ask if maybe you’ve been in the garage loft lately looking for something.”

“No,” said Vivian. “I haven’t been in the garage since Todd died until I went up there with you the other day. Why, what did you see?”

“There were some footprints in the dust leading up to the loft area where the furniture is stored. I found some candy wrappers and a couple of smashed cigarette butts in the corner, like someone spent a little time there.”

“Oh my,” Vivian said, alarmed. “Todd didn’t smoke, so that couldn’t have been left over from him. And there are so many flammable things stored in there; that would be a very dangerous thing to do.”

Mike nodded. “We were thinking it would be a good idea if we picked up a lock for the garage. There are too many things that could be stolen to leave it wide open like that. We’re going to the salvage yard in the morning and we can get one then.”

“I’ll do you one better than that,” said Dugger, standing. “I’ve got a good chain lock in the toolbox on the back of my truck. We can take care of this matter right here and now.”

“I’ll go with you,” Mike said, following Dugger to his pickup.

Lydia had remained quiet during the discussion, her mind in overdrive thinking that she might know something about this mysterious note. But could it possibly be? Her thoughts were in panic mode. Dog had stationed himself next to her and she absentmindedly fed him bits of steak, while Vivian rambled on about crime these days.

“It’s a crying shame that people have to worry about locking their doors in a small town like this. I suppose we should call the police and let them know there might be someone in the area that’s up to no good.”

Lydia nodded, automatically.

“They have break-ins occasionally in the vacation houses when it’s off season, but that’s on the other side of the lake. It usually ends up being teenagers looking for a place to have a party. But this side of the lake is most often quiet, and I’ve always felt safe here.”

Lydia knew she should tell Vivian about Rocco. But she wasn’t sure. Was she? How could Rocco have found her here? But she could think of no other explanation for that note in the refrigerator. The note, in light of his threatening text messages that she’d been ignoring, pointed to him. Not to mention the fact that he’d called her Pocahontas. All those creepy feelings that she’d experienced of being watched! It was Rocco, for sure, and he had been in Vivian’s house! A shiver went down her spine at the thought.