Beneath the Ice by C.M. Weaver

Author:C.M. Weaver
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Goldtouch Press
Published: 2021-05-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Three days later, Andrea had recovered for the most part. She and Fletcher left the station making their way north on I-35N. She stared out the window at the familiar scenery. Dirty snow stuck to the bridge railings and shoulders of the freeway. They’d left the station with Steve Totts barking orders. Since they’d returned from Kansas he’d been on the warpath with Andrea in his sights for some reason.

Here they were on the way back to the lake to interview David Saunders, the owner of the big log home on the east side of the lake. Fletcher had set up the trip by calling David, who finally agreed to the meeting.

Andrea hadn’t spoken much on the short trip to the lake. After Steve’s diatribe at the station, she didn’t feel like talking, let alone rehashing the meeting. The whole incident had left her skittish.

“You’re awfully quiet. You can’t let that jerk bother you. He’s jealous.” Fletcher turned on his blinker and changed lanes to take the Larpenter exit. A car horn blasted beside her and she jumped, her heart beating fast as she looked to see why. Fletcher pulled the car back into his lane.

A small car sped up and cut them off. Fletcher slammed on his breaks honking his horn. The car sped off not stopping but wove in and out of the traffic erratically.

Fletcher’s arm had flung out across her chest to protect her. “Are you okay?” He glanced at her.

“That guy almost sideswiped us!” Andrea bent her body still gripping the armrest. “I’m fine. Thanks.” She looked at him with a slight smile.

“He wasn’t there when I signaled the move, I looked. He must have switched lanes or sped up from that on-ramp. Good thing we’re getting off here.”

He signaled and took the exit. At the top of the ramp, he turned left across the freeway overpass. The service road to the lake area wasn’t far off the freeway.

Andrea watched the road as they passed the tree-lined highway and turned onto the access road that led to Blue Lake Ave. A couple of cars and a camper were parked at the back of the lot. The chain barrier with its STOP sign swung in the breeze across the boat ramp. The whole place looked abandoned.

Fletcher pulled to a stop facing the lake. The cold night froze any melted sections from the bright sun shining the day before.

Andrea tensed, gripping the armrest. Reassuring messages screamed inside her brain. You’ll be okay. No, you’re not, the truck will break the ice as you drive out there and you’ll sink. No, I won’t, Fletcher would never do anything to harm the two of us.

Fletcher’s voice interrupted her internal conversation. “Relax. We’re not going onto the ice.” He pried her fingers from the armrest and held them massaging them as she willed herself to relax.

Knocking on her window startled her and she whipped her head to whoever stood beside the truck. She had to look down as the four-wheel drive sat up high.

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