Whoever had killed Gus had left nothing resembling a clue behind.
She shut her eyes, praying that she’d experienced a slight delusional episode, perhaps from lack of sleep. Then she opened them again to find that nothing had changed. Gus was still on the floor exactly where he’d been before, and there was no doubt in Hannah’s mind that he was dead. His chest was perfectly motionless, and any fool could see that he wasn’t breathing.
You should check anyway, the rational voice in her mind prodded her. Think about how guilty you’d feel if he were still alive and you didn’t call for help.
“Right,” Hannah said, swallowing hard. The last thing she wanted to do was touch another dead body, but the voice was right, she’d never forgive herself if Gus were still alive and there was something she could do for him.
Hannah glanced around. There was no pay phone in the pavilion. She patted her pocket. No cell phone, either. She’d left it at home again. That meant she couldn’t call for help, so there was no need to…
So you can’t call. So what? Ava’s got a phone, and your legs aren’t broken. If he’s still alive, you can hustle yourself right over to the store and call from there.
“Okay, okay,” Hannah answered the inner voice that sounded a whole lot like her mother’s. “I’ll check.”
She swallowed again, took a deep breath for courage, and knelt beside Gus. She reached out with one hand to feel the pulse point at the side of his neck.
Nothing. Hannah pressed a bit harder. Still nothing. He was dead, all right, and it wasn’t a pretty sight. She wanted to find something to cover him so the flies that were buzzing around couldn’t gather. But that would be the wrong thing to do since she wasn’t supposed to touch anything. Gus Klein hadn’t stabbed himself in the chest so hard that he’d fallen backwards. This was a murder scene, and she had to call…
“Hannah?”
The voice startled her, and she shot to her feet. Herb was standing at the open window.
“You can stop looking, Hannah. We took the picture without Uncle Gus. Norman’s going to stick around, so if he shows up later, we’ll take another one.”
“He won’t show up.” Her voice sounded strained to her own ears, and Hannah cleared her throat.
“What do you mean, He won’t show up?”
Hannah cleared her throat again. “He’s…he…call Mike and Bill on your cell phone, will you? It’s important.”
“Okay, but why?”
“They need to come out here. Uncle Gus is…gone,” she forced out the words, knowing full well that the woman who hated euphemisms had just used one.
“You mean he left the family reunion without even saying goodbye?”
“Not exactly,” Hannah said, sighing as she avoided yet another a direct answer. “Just tell them to hurry. And don’t let anyone in until they get here.”
Chapter Seven
Hannah gazed out across the blue-green expanse of the lake. The sun was shining brightly, the water sparkled as she skimmed it with the tips of her fingers, and a light breeze lifted her hair from the nape of her neck. The warmth of the sun and the serene beauty of the lake was almost enough to erase the memory of Gus…almost, but not quite.
Norman rowed smoothly across the water. He’d been waiting for her when she left the pavilion, and he’d led her down to the water and launched the boat.
“Where are we going?” Hannah asked him. They were in the middle of Eden Lake, and she was glad to get away from the continual questions about what had happened, the speculation about who could have done such a terrible thing to Gus, and why.
“We’re here.” Norman dropped the anchor next to a huge bed of pink and white water lilies.
“Where’s here?”
“Eden Lake’s water lily garden. Marge told me her father added plants to it every summer.”
“It’s gorgeous. And all this time, I never knew it was here.”
“Are you okay, Hannah?”
“I’m a whole lot better now,” she said,