Pine Lake. Amanda Stevens
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Название: Pine Lake
Автор: Amanda Stevens
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежные детективы
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In spite of everything, Jack thought. “Why are you calling, Tommy?”
“I need a favor, buddy. It’s about Nathan.”
Jack was instantly on alert. “What about him?”
“Have you heard from him lately?”
Something in Tommy’s voice prickled Jack’s scalp. “Why would you think I’d hear from Nathan? You guys cut me loose a long time ago.”
“You sound bitter,” Tommy said.
“No, just careful.”
“Can’t say as I blame you, considering the way you were treated. We were all just scared kids back then. I’m not making excuses, but it was a rough time for everyone.”
Sure sounded like he was making excuses. And the half-hearted apology was only now being extended because Tommy needed something from Jack. Just like Nathan did. He wasn’t about to make it easy on either of them.
“This is awkward as hell,” Tommy muttered into the loaded silence. “I can’t imagine how strange it must be for you.”
“No, you can’t.”
Tommy drew in a sharp breath as if his anger had been goaded. Then he said in a strained voice, “Look, man, I wouldn’t even be bothering you except I think Nathan may be in some trouble. Serious trouble. And now that it’s all coming home to roost, he’s looking for a way out.”
“What do you mean?”
Tommy hesitated. “I think he may be trying to set me up.”
“For what?”
“I haven’t figured that out yet.”
Jack stared out into the night, dotted with streetlights spanning the misty cityscape, but his mind had already traveled deep into the piney woods of East Texas. “What is it you expect me to do about it?”
“Nothing, buddy. Not a damn thing. That’s the whole point of this call. If Nathan tries to get in touch, I’d appreciate a heads-up. Otherwise, go on about your business.”
“You still haven’t told me why you think he’d try to get in touch with me.”
“He’s desperate. And he and your uncle were tight. Maybe he thinks you still have a score to settle and he can somehow use it to his advantage. A word of advice from an old friend.” Any hint of joviality disappeared from Tommy Driscoll’s voice. “Don’t believe a word that comes out of his mouth. Nathan Bolt is a pathological liar. Always has been. Just like his old man.”
“What has he lied about?” Jack asked carefully.
Tommy hesitated. “Maybe it doesn’t even matter anymore.”
“Maybe it does,” Jack said. “What did Nathan lie about?”
Another pause. “He wasn’t home the night Anna was killed. He left before midnight and didn’t come back until nearly sunrise.”
Jack sat on his uncle’s boat dock as a fine mist settled over the lake. All around him, the landscape was eerie and primal, a swampy labyrinth of channels and bayous that stretched all the way across the Louisiana border. The town of Pine Lake was less than a quarter of a mile away, but the woods blocked the lights. He could see nothing but the silhouette of trees and a glimpse now and then of the old lake bridge through the curtains of Spanish moss hanging from a dense forest of bald cypress.
Damn, it was dark out here.
Jack had forgotten what it was like to be that deep in the country, without the glow of skyscrapers to create a false daylight. As he stared out at the water, the night came alive. A loon trilled from the woods as a mosquito buzzed his ear. A female alligator grunted nearby, warning predators away from her nest. The nocturnal sounds stirred an uneasy excitement. You shouldn’t have come back here, a voice in his head taunted. You’re asking for trouble.
Yeah, maybe he was.
He hadn’t told anyone he was coming. Not Nathan, not Tommy. But the cabin had been spotless when he arrived, the cupboards and refrigerator well stocked. Even his uncle’s fishing boat had been scrubbed and gassed up. Jack wasn’t too pleased by the preparations. Nathan’s overconfidence bugged him, but it wasn’t misplaced. He was here, wasn’t he?
All weekend long he’d brooded about those two phone calls and then come Monday morning, he’d headed upstairs to talk things over with his boss, Ezra Blackthorn. The taciturn head of the agency had listened carefully to Jack’s story, but he hadn’t offered much in the way of advice. Wading back into the muck of his past had been Jack’s decision alone. As much as he dreaded what he might find, he couldn’t ignore any chance, no matter how slim, of finally bringing Anna’s killer to justice. To resolve once and for all what had really happened on that long-ago Friday night.
But he had no delusions about easy answers. His investigation was likely to get messy. He didn’t trust Nathan or Tommy to tell him the truth. Obviously, they were each working an angle. He could well imagine Tommy Driscoll getting involved in something shady. Even as a kid, Tommy’s innate charm and athletic prowess had fostered a sense of entitlement. He’d learned early on that he could talk his way out of anything and Jack doubted his attitude had changed now that he wore a badge.
Nathan was a little harder to figure out. He already had money and prestige. Why risk his standing in the community?
Jack really didn’t care what either of them was up to. He did care that one or both had lied about their whereabouts on the night of Anna’s murder.
He watched the water with a pensive frown, unable to shake his disquiet. His mind had strayed to such a dark place that when he saw a light flicker on the old lake bridge, he half convinced himself he was being paranoid.
But no, there it was again. Not a flickering light as he’d first thought, but the bobbing beam of a flashlight moving across the wooden deck. The bridge had been abandoned decades ago, but the rotting floorboards and creaking beams had never dissuaded the local daredevils. He watched for a moment, thinking back to his own misadventures on that bridge.
The light was no longer moving, he noted. The beam stayed stationary for so long that he had to conclude someone had set the flashlight down on the deck or perhaps wedged it between the braces. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost conjure a form standing at the guardrail. He was tempted to start up his uncle’s boat and train the spotlight on the bridge, but even so powerful a beam would be swallowed by the misty darkness. Besides which, this was none of his business. He hadn’t come to Pine Lake to get sidetracked—
He heard a splash as something heavy hit the water. Then the flashlight beam swept down and over the lake, glimmering sporadically through the trees. Jack was far enough away that he couldn’t be spotted, but he instinctively shrank back into the shadows.
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