summer, intending to surprise Joe on their first swim together, to show him that she was still willing to be seduced. Stella had imagined the look of pleasure when he took in the bare expanse of leg and the hint of cleavage, had hoped he would take a renewed interest in her. It hadn’t happened, of course. Joe was gone again before she could model it for him. Back to his mistress.
Nature had not endowed Stella well up top. But she was long and lean with a small waist and clear blue eyes. Joe was fond of both. She’d turned more than her fair share of heads—including his, all those years ago. There was no reason for Stella to feel ashamed of herself, and yet she could not stop the insecurity from smothering her right there in the water. She was a fool for thinking a trashy bathing suit could mend a rift so deep.
Stella pounded her fist in the water. Squeezed her eyes shut. And pushed beneath the surface. She held her breath until her lungs burned and her lips began to tingle. Finally, she bobbed back to the surface and resumed her floating position.
A small family of loons rose from the shore with a squawk and flew low over the lake. They parted around Stella and then landed on the surface twenty feet away. She watched the female beat the water with her wings, proclaiming her displeasure. Stella glanced toward the cabin and saw a truck backing up to the water’s edge. A canoe was tied to the flatbed, candy-apple red and slick with varnish. All the greens and browns of her lakeside retreat were ripped open, exposed by that streak of color.
Irv Bean climbed from the truck, scanned the lake, and waved when he saw her treading water offshore. Stella returned the wave and swam back to the pier. She covered herself with a towel before crossing the yard. Dripping and embarrassed, Stella ran one hand along the glossy finish. She didn’t have to ask what it was.
Her birthday present.
“Joe ordered it for you. I’ve had it sitting in the storeroom for a week. Figured I’d go ahead and bring it up since I haven’t heard from him.” He looked at Stella, a little sheepish. “Hope I didn’t ruin the surprise.”
Irv tugged at one of the ropes harnessing the canoe in place and pulled until the tail end rested on the ground. He hoisted it onto his shoulders and trudged toward the dock, where he slid the canoe into the water with a splash, then stood back to admire.
“Sure is a beauty, ain’t it?”
“You haven’t heard from him?”
Irv had one of those faces that struggled to muster any expression other than jovial. Bright eyes and flushed cheeks and a wide grin. “Sorry, no messages for you. I’ll drive up right away if anything comes in.” He shrugged broad shoulders in apology. Then he tied off the canoe so it wouldn’t drift into the lake. “Best be getting back. Happy birthday, Mrs. Crater.”
Stella’s eyes filled with the canoe. Long after the sound of Irv’s delivery truck was replaced by the hush of afternoon, she hung by the water’s edge, wondering exactly what had happened to Joe.
Chapter Six
BELGRADE LAKES, MAINE, MONDAY, AUGUST 11, 1930
“I WANT you to go back to New York and look for Joe.”
Fred sat at the kitchen counter, cup of coffee in hand, watching sheets of rain slide down the window. The rain had returned and with it Stella’s dismal mood. “You think it’s that serious?”
“I think it’s time we do something other than sit around and wonder. I want you to search everywhere you can think of. Especially the apartment. What if he’s in there …” Stella pulled at a loose thread on her blouse. “What if he’s dead?”
“Mrs. Crater, I don’t think—”
“This will get you in.” She pulled a key ring from her purse and set it on the counter. She pointed at a large brass key.
“You’re not coming?”
How could she answer that question? That she only wanted to know what had happened to Joe? She settled for the easiest explanation. “I need to be here if he
M. R. James, Darryl Jones