Free The Girls Are Missing by Caroline Crane

do?”
    “What can we do? Just watch out, I guess.”
    “Oh, you, you’re a city girl. You’re used to these things.”
    “I’m both. I grew up in the country, and believe it or not, I never felt any worse off in the city. We always had our door locked, and there were always people around. I felt—”
    Not safe, after Larry died. She had hated it then.
    Anita came out of the house wearing a pair of shorts over her suit, and got into the car. They drove through the edge of Cedarville, past a row of small stores and modest houses. After that, the street diminished to a narrow winding road that led out into the country. About a mile later, they came to an artificial pond with the pretentious name of Paradise Lake. The entrance fee was immodest, but it was the only place near Cedarville where they could swim. She settled herself with Adam in a grove of pine trees and watched the girls play in the water. Anita had latched onto Mary Ellen and was whispering to her and giggling, which left Gail by herself.
    But Gail often played and swam alone. She paddled near the shore, humming softly, and found pebbles and flip tops to create another microcosm, as she had created the fairy house. Mary Ellen, who turned out to be a surprisingly good
    swimmer, abandoned Anita and double-overarmed to a large float near the center of the pond, occupied by a group of teenagers. Joyce watched in mild alarm as Mary Ellen quickly befriended a romantically dark youth with the body of a man. They swam around the raft, dove off it, raced, and splashed each other.
    Gail came out of the water and stood shivering by her mother.
    “You’re freezing.” Joyce handed her a towel.
    “Mommy, I don’t like it anymore.”
    “Why not?”
    “I don’t like the bottom of it. It’s all muddy, and there are sticks and things.”
    The bottom of it, which she could not see … She could only feel the mud and the sticks. Gail was cursed with too much imagination. Now even this was spoiled for her.
    Gail settled under the trees, wrapped in her towel. But Anita, who was incapable of playing alone, came to inveigle her back into the water.
    “I’ll race you,” she coaxed. Gail shook her head.
    “Well, I’m going in the water, and I’m going to have fun.” Anita rolled about, wiggled her toes, and performed enticing antics. She had chosen a shallow area where sand from the artificial beach could still be seen through two feet of water. It was clear of mud and sticks. Gail wandered down to the shore. Ignoring Anita, she stepped into the water until it covered her feet.
    Anita barrel-rolled on the sandy bottom. Gail waded into deeper water. Anita turned a somersault. Gail stared at the trees on the opposite shore.
    Suddenly Anita was on Gail’s back. They both tumbled into the water. Then only Anita emerged, riding on something and laughing wildly.
    Joyce kicked off her shoes and splashed into the lake. A young woman in a blue bikini ran with her, blowing a
    whistle. She pulled Gail from the water and led her toward the beach, where a crowd of children gathered to stare.
    Gail sputtered and choked. The woman patted her on the back until she seemed to be breathing evenly.
    The children drifted away, except for Anita, who stood gaping at Gail. On catching Joyce’s eye, she giggled self-consciously.
    “That wasn’t funny,” Joyce said. “Why did you do it, Anita?”
    “Because she wouldn’t play with me.”
    Gail was still choking and trying to clear her throat. Anita watched her curiously.
    Joyce asked, “Do you think that’s the way to get someone to play with you?”
    Anita tilted her head and pulled on a strand of hair, trying coquetry where it had no chance of succeeding.
    “My father does that sometimes.”
    “He ducks you? Gail could have drowned!”
    She should have ignored the statement. Anita was a known liar, trying to justify herself.
    It wasn’t possible, not the mild-mannered Foster Farand, with his rimless glasses, his bald spot, and