Page 7 of Lost Lake
He reached for the crime scene tape as if she’d given him clearance to barge through.
“Hold up.” El raised a hand. “I’ll let you take a look, but we need to do this by the book.”
He paced, exhaling hard. “You think I care about the book when that could be Kenna down there?”
“I know how you’re feeling. If it is her, we’ll find out together, but you have to stay with me. Don’t cross the line.”
He nodded, jaw clenched. “Fine.”
They descended toward the shore, grief radiating off him like heat.
And with every step, a single, icy thought tightened its grip.
If that woman was indeed Kenna, had Lucy followed her mother into the murky lake and lost her life too?
2
“It’s her…it’s Kenna.”
The words scraped out of Gabe’s throat as he stared at his friend twisted against the sand, as if the beach itself had rejected her. Drenched clothing plastered to her body. Hair straggly. Sand and weeds clinging everywhere.
They might call it an accident. Say she drowned.
But he knew better.
Kenna would never go into the water and leave Lucy behind.
Someone had killed her. There was no doubt in his mind. The only questions were who and why? Something he had no answer for.
Why, God? Why Kenna?
He didn’t expect a reply. He sucked in air, bent forward, and planted his hands on his knees, concentrating on the simple act of staying upright.
“I’m so sorry, Gabe.” El rested her hand on his shoulder.
The touch should have helped. Instead, it made everything real. Final. All he wanted was to shrug her off and sink into the sand until the crushing weight in his chest lifted.
But he didn’t. That would be rude. Revealing. And he didn’t allow himself that kind of weakness anymore.
He straightened, her hand sliding free, and forced himself to look again. The sight of Kenna lying lifeless sent nausea rolling through his gut. He squeezed his eyes shut.
The loss could still take him down. He’d lost military friends before, but no one as close as Kenna. Since she’d had Lucy…
“Lucy!” His eyes snapped open. “Where’s Lucy? Tell me you found her.”
“We don’t know.” El spoke softly, but frustration weighted her words.
“You don’t know?” The words flew out before he could stop them. “I thought you were a good detective.”
She flinched.
His fault, and he hated causing her pain, but finding Lucy came before anything else. Anyone else. Before manners. Before guilt. Even before finding Kenna’s killer.
Don’t take her from me too. Please keep her safe and bring her back to me.
El’s jaw tightened. “There’s a car seat on the dock. Odds say it belongs to Lucy.”
“Her seat is missing from Kenna’s van.”
