Page 49 of Lost Lake
For the first time, his mother shifted her gaze to El. “And who might you be, my dear?”
El held out her credentials. “Detective Elaina Lyons. Lost Lake Sheriff’s Department.”
His mother’s gaze flashed to his face, her eyelashes batting as fast as hummingbird wings. “You’ve brought the law to our doorstep?”
Gabe held up a placating hand. “This isn’t about you or the family. It’s about Kenna.”
“Oh, Kenna. Sweet Kenna. Of course, if it’s about her, come in.” She stood back, revealing the same small foyer with the same decor from his childhood.
On an entry table sat figurines of Mary and Jesus along with the family Bible. Not only did his family live a life in opposition to Gabe’s faith, but they were hypocritical in their pretense of being strong Christians. Their philosophy? Go to confession on Saturday, then resume sinning as if nothing had happened. After all, why change when they could go back the next weekend and be forgiven again?
“Keep going, Gabey.” His mother’s continued use of his pet nickname bothered him, but they wouldn’t be there long, and there was no point in bringing it up. “To the kitchen.”
He led the way down the hallway to the only room his father had no desire to control, and where his mother felt most at home. The floor was covered in wall-to-wall, indoor/outdoor carpeting with a green background and huge orange flowers, a blast from the seventies his grandmother had installed when she’d owned the home before them. The avocado green appliances he remembered from his childhood were still in place. Not surprising. His father didn’t believe in improving things as long as they worked or could be repaired.
Gabe pulled out one of the rusty-orange vinyl chairs for El, and she took a seat. He sat next to her.
His mother smiled at them. “I just made a fresh pot of coffee. Would anyone like a cup?”
Gabe hoped he wouldn’t be there long enough to even drink a half cup. “Not for me.”
“No thank you,” El said. “But thank you for asking.”
Disappointment overtaking his mother’s expression, she brushed her hands over her worn clothing and turned to pour coffee in her favorite white mug that he’d given to her for Mother’s Day just before he’d learned his family members were all crooks. Another stab to his heart for what he was doing to his mother, but he couldn’t live the life they did or condone it.
She brought her coffee to the table and sat across from them. Cupping her hands around the mug, she looked at Gabe. “What is it you want to know?”
He wouldn’t waste time and there wasn’t a good way to tell anyone about a murder, so he came right out with it. “Kenna was murdered on Friday night. Her daughter was with her and she’s missing.”
His mother gasped, eliciting the response he’d expected. She’d always liked Kenna. After all, Kenna walked him to school and gave his mother more freedom. More time away from his father. Time when she could follow her own agenda, not his.
She released her cup. “What happened?”
“We’re still piecing that together,” he said. “But she was found floating in Lost Lake after having been strangled.”
“Oh. Oh. Oh my.” She clutched a hand to her flowery button-down blouse. “That poor dear. Who would kill her?”
“We were hoping you might have an idea,” El said, heading into an area that Gabe hadn’t wanted to go with his mother.
“Me? I try to keep up with what’s going on in the neighborhood, but once her family moved away, all I heard was that Kenna is a daycare teacher, and she has a young daughter.”
“Do you know where her parents live now?” El asked.
“Last I heard they’d bought a home near Gold Beach. Some sort of senior living or retirement village. Something like that. I remember because we’re about the same age as her parents, and it’s hard for me to believe we could be considered old enough to retire.”
Could they even retire? There sure wasn’t a 401(k) or retirement plan for criminals. Neither of them paid into Social Security either, so they weren’t eligible for those payments, but he kept his thoughts to himself. Knowing his dad, he was still in the thick of things and socking away money for old age.
The back door opened. Dread flooded Gabe’s body like a bad virus. He swiveled his chair. Not his dad, but almost as bad. His brother, Brad, stepped in. He resembled Gabe in many physical ways. Hopefully not in the cruelty that was often found in his eyes, a true expression passed down from their father. Neither of them had forgiven Gabe for walking out on the family business.
Brad scowled. “So, the prodigal son has returned.”
Their mother jumped up and rushed over to Brad. “He didn’t come back to the family, if that’s what you’re thinking. He came to tell me Kenna has been murdered, and her little daughter is missing. They need to know how to contact her family.”
A flash of pain crossed over Brad’s face, and he gripped the counter. Gabe had always believed his brother had a crush on Kenna back in the day. His reaction could be a confirmation of that.
“When did this happen?” he asked, his voice strained.
“Friday night. She was strangled and left face down in Lost Lake.”
