On Thin Ice. Linda Hall
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tall as Alec, but bigger all-around. She presumed this was Steve.
Alec saw her and stopped in his tracks. “Hello,” he said.
“Hi.” Nori waved a few fingers at him and smiled.
Nori said, “I would introduce you, but I know you met earlier on the ice.”
“We did,” Megan said, smiling sweetly at Alec.
He kept staring at her. Finally he asked, “What are you doing here?”
It was an odd question and Nori laughed lightly. “Alec, she’s staying here in the cabin called Grace.”
Grace was the largest of the Trail’s End cabins that Nori had shown Megan. The cabin was the farthest from the lodge but the closest to the road. All the cabins used to be numbered and they were just referred to by their numbers, but Nori and Steve had given each cabin a name.
“I don’t know why, but I got the idea you were staying in town,” Alec said to Megan.
“I thought this was town.”
Alec’s eyes locked on to Megan’s and hers to his. They were like this for several seconds until she picked up her cider and brought it to her lips. Nori broke the silence by saying, “What a horrific thing to happen to a guest. You arrive on a bit of vacation, you decide to go for a walk on the ice and the next thing you know someone is out there target practicing.” To Alec she said, “I was just thinking it’s a good thing that you were out ice fishing. What a wonderful coincidence. I might even say that God may have been at work there….”
Megan nearly choked on her cider.
Steve said, “We’re taking the shooting very seriously. We don’t think it was just people randomly target practicing.”
“You don’t?” Nori’s eyes were wide. She looked at Alec. Obviously she thought the gunman was after Alec, maybe for a past crime he had solved or someone he had successfully put into prison. “Oh, Alec, that’s awful,” Nori said. “Are you able to stick around for a while or do you have to get back to work?”
“We’re back to work,” Steve said. “We’re checking on a threatening e-mail.”
Nori nodded. “You guys don’t need to stay. You go and take care of that e-mail. We can’t have this kind of crime around here.”
Megan asked, “Is there anything you need me for?”
It was Steve who answered her. “Not really. Not now. Alec said you didn’t see anything. Is that right?”
Megan said she hadn’t.
“The less we need to involve you the better,” Steve said.
Megan raised her eyebrows and stared hard at Alec. Imperceptibly, he shrugged. Obviously, he hadn’t told Steve about their previous relationship.
Later, after she got back to her cabin, all she felt was regret and a kind of deep sadness. It was as if she was being hurt all over again. She would bury herself in her work this evening, and try not to think about a boy from twenty years ago who had ridden her on the handlebars of his bicycle, down the hill while she laughed and yelled at him to go faster, faster, faster.
When she checked her e-mail, the message with the subject line, OUR HOUSE, barely registered. Since she got a lot of spam, she deleted the e-mail.
And then she didn’t know why—something about the subject line caught her attention—she retrieved the message from the trash folder.
The message simply read, WE WILL BE TOGETHER SOON. OUR HOUSE IS ALMOST READY. Attached was a photograph of a house. Normally she didn’t open strange attachments, but this one displayed automatically when she opened the e-mail. She studied the photo. The house looked vaguely familiar. Or maybe it was that tree in front of the house which she thought she recognized. Or did she?
Several hours later, she woke up. She had been dreaming about her son. Megan got up and sat at her little kitchen table and opened up her laptop. She looked at the picture of the house and read the e-mail again. Suddenly she realized that she knew that house. It was the house she lived in until she was five and her parents had died. The tree was the little sapling she and her father had planted so long ago. In the picture the tree had grown, the trunk thick and strong, the branches dense, profuse with the rich green of late summer.
This house, this tree was just an hour outside of Augusta in a town called Bath, Maine. When her parents died, she had moved in with her grandmother who lived in Augusta. In all the years she had lived in Augusta, she had never gone back to look at the house in Bath.
WE WILL BE TOGETHER SOON. OUR HOUSE IS ALMOST READY.
What did this mean? That she was going to die next? That soon she would be joining her parents? Did this whole thing have something to do with them?
FIVE
Megan read the message again, studied the picture, looked at the e-mail address from which it was sent. The address was a series of numbers and letters.
She needed Alec on this. He was her only connection with the past. Even though it would be painful, they had to work together on this. She had come this far after all.
She called him.
“Alec here.” His voice was gravelly with sleep.
She looked at her watch. Maybe six-thirty was a bit early in the morning. “Did I wake you?” she asked.
“Who is this?”
How could he not know her voice? “It’s Megan.”
“Oh…Meggie…Megan. Oh.”
He seemed flustered.
She said, “I got an e-mail last night…”
A pause. “About the shooting?”
“No.”
“Megan?”
She held the receiver tightly to her ear. “It was a short, cryptic e-mail with an attachment. It was a picture of a house. Alec, it’s the house in Bath that I lived in until I was five. I recognize it!”
He said, “We should meet. We need to talk. About a lot of things. I’ve spoken with the investigating officers regarding the accidents in California and Augusta. Plus…I got an e-mail, too.”
“The same one?”
“Not exactly. I’ll show it to you. As much as Steve thinks we should keep you out of everything, you probably should know about this.”
She paused before asking, “Steve doesn’t know about us, does he?”
“No,” he said evenly. “Not yet. We should talk. We need to talk this through.”
“I agree,” she said.
“How about one hour? The Schooner Café for breakfast. I’ll see you there.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Can you forward me the e-mail and picture?”
She did.
When she got to the Schooner Café an hour later, it was busy. Alec, however, wasn’t there. She checked her watch. He was five minutes late. Not a lot. People could be five minutes late and nothing might be wrong. Then why did she feel so nervous? She scooted into a booth and a horrible déjà vu settled over her. Maybe he wouldn’t come. Maybe it would be like last time.
Marlene came over with the coffeepot and said, “Megan! I didn’t see you there in that booth or I would’ve come over sooner. I have a message from Alec. He was here around half an hour ago working on his computer and then he left. I think he got a phone message or something. He wants you to come over to the sheriff’s office and wait for him there. He shouldn’t be more than half an hour. He said it’s important, an emergency.”
“Did