Tainted Waters

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

"We're here. We're here. YAY!"

Sam smiled at DD who was bouncing and pumping her fists up and down. She barely had time to stop the car and put it in park, before her niece scrambled out the door.

"Hey, slow down. Slow down."

"Yay. Yay. Yay, Aunt Sam." And off she went racing down to the water. To the dock. She was a little more excited than usual. After picking her up and getting the lecture from her sister-in-law, Sam had taken her back to her place, where they'd hung out for a bit, but it had been too stuffy and hot in the apartment, so they'd gone for a drive. When she'd begged Sam to go to the lake, she knew she couldn't say no. She hoped her sister-in-law didn't find out. Or her family for that matter. The place was taboo.

Sam watched DD. She knew the rules about playing around water and was pretty good about following them. Keeping an eye on her, Sam grabbed the groceries from the back seat she'd stopped and bought, so they could have a picnic. Closing the car door, she stood up and was about to walk to the cabin when something caught her attention. But she wasn't sure what. She looked around. Nothing had changed since the last time she'd been there. Frowning, she realized that was really what the problem was.

It was a beautiful setting, a beautiful cabin on the lake. One that had been in Sam's family for almost a hundred years but hadn't been used much in the last twenty. She was the only one who went there and she wasn't supposed to either. She'd been ordered not to go there. So, no one knew that she did. The place was filled with shadows, and not the ones made by the massive poplars and evergreens that allowed the sun to filter through, like golden flecks.

DD loved the lake. Loved going there. Sam wasn't all that comfortable there, but she'd tried the public beaches. Other kids stared. Made fun of her niece. Then she'd shut down, become depressed and cry. Sam hadn't been able to take it. She'd broken her promise and brought her there. It had only been a few times. Besides, she didn't figure it was hurting anyone since no one was using it. Years ago, she'd approached her mom about selling it, letting it go, but her mom had told her 'no' as in 'no way in hell.' One part of her had wanted her to let it go, thinking it would erase the past, but then she'd brought DD here and had realized that the demons weren't that bad. As long as she kept her focus on the two of them enjoying the place.

Shaking off those thoughts that always left a chill surging up her spine, she walked across the manicured lawn to the cabin. The grass, a beautiful summer green, was short and cleaned up around the edges. Everything was neat and tidy and nicely kept up. It looked like someone actually lived there. No one would ever guess that it was never used or rarely. Someone was looking after the place—cutting the grass, trimming the trees, cleaning the yard. She glanced over her shoulder in time to see DD strip off her shoes and socks. Not a good sign.

"Hey. I have to make lunch. Come and help, please."

"No, Aunt Sam. Please let me swim first. Please. Please. Please."

She groaned. Her idea of swimming was wading in the water for hours.

"Okay, but don't move from that dock until I get lunch figured out. Got it?"

She did her excited bouncing routine again. Her black bob haircut flying freely around her face, like a spinning top. "Hurry, Aunt Sam. Hurry."

She laughed and turned to face the door in front of her. Happy memories flooded through her mind. This place had been her playground. She'd loved going there, loved being with her family, loved being with her father. That reminder shut down her thoughts immediately. The food pulling on her arms reminded her of what she was about to do. Taking a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, she set down the bags and dug the key out of her pocket. She shoved it into the padlock. Nothing happened. She twisted again. It groaned in protest. After several attempts, the aging lock snapped open. The musty smell of stagnant, old air assaulted her. Almost as much as the life that was missing. She'd avoided going in the previous times she'd taken DD there. It had been too much. But now something was telling her she needed to. She figured, having her niece to distract her, it would be easier.

She grabbed the bags and stepped forward. Memories came quick and fast. Running in the front door with her ponytail flying out behind her. Laughing. Hungry. Chasing or being chased by one of her siblings. Her dad showing her how to put a worm on a hook. Going on a hike through the trees as a family. Being happy. So happy.

And now it depressed her. Reminded her of all that she'd lost. The tears she swore she'd never shed as an adult were burning the corners of her eyes. Emotions clogged her throat. She hadn't thought it would be this hard.

"Aunt Sam!"

DD's demanding tone snapped her back to the present and to what she was supposed to be doing. The dust in the air tickled her nose as she walked across the yellowing linoleum floor to the counter. She'd set down the bags of food when there was a loud squeal. She whipped around and sprinted back outside in time to see DD jump into the water.

She was capable of more than people gave her credit for. Sam could hear her sister-in-law, Shelley, remind her again that she might be fifteen but mentally she was about five. Which meant she needed constant supervision. She's developmentally disabled. Do not trust her. Do not let her out of your sight. Sam cringed, wondering if one of these times something really might happen to DD when she was with her. It crossed her mind that the significance of something happening to her here, where her dad had died, would never be forgiven.

Pushing away those thoughts, she made her way down to the lake. She'd spent a lot of time on water safety and swimming with DD. And it was shallow for quite a distance. She knew to stay near the dock. By the time she reached the water, DD was already soaked as she splashed and stomped through the water. Sam took in a long, deep cleansing breath and let the peace and quiet of the place and her niece's exuberance fill her with joy, releasing all the stress of her day.

The late-day rays beat down on them, a gentle breeze whispered across the lake. Sam sat down on the dock, stretching out her legs and propping her hands behind her. DD laughed and jumped as she slapped at the water, kicking it and twirling around. Sam had never seen anything so beautiful. Or so free.

"Come in, Aunt Sam. Come in."

She shook her head. "It's cold. It might be July, but the water doesn't know that. It's still on February time, wintertime."

DD giggled. "It doesn't know time. Come in."

"Not right now. I want to rest a bit. Relax. Let me do that for a while and then I'll join you. All right?"

She frowned.

"In five minutes."

"Okaaayyy," she drawled, not looking happy anymore.

It was enough to get Sam to strip off her shoes and socks and roll up her pant legs, dangling her legs over the edge of the dock. "There. I'm in." She let her feet touch the water and shivered as the cold shot right up her body.

"No, you're not."

She shrieked as a wall of cold spray hit her right in the chest. "Oh, now you're in for it."

DD squealed and spun away, running through the water. Sam jumped in, shuddering as the shocking chill hit her. She started walking toward her, growling like a fake monster. "You're gonna get wet. I'm gonna get you." Sam stomped, lifting her legs high, tugging her feet free of the weeds, making as much noise as she could. DD shrieked and giggled as she ran.

A flock of ducks, swimming nearby, quacked in protest, before taking flight.

DD froze. "Oh, no."

The birds circled and then landed farther down on the water.

"It's okay. They just moved. They don't mind sharing."

She stared at where the ducks had landed, not sure if that was true.

"Oh look, there's Mrs. or Mr. Stork. Right there at the end." She or he had been there in the spring. "Oh and look, there are the pelicans. Look at them eat." She pointed across the lake at a small cove that was deep and seemed to be the hangout for the fish and hence the pelicans.

"Ohhhh. Beautiful." DD spun and splashed water at Sam, letting her know it was time to resume their game.

Sam moved slowly so DD could keep ahead of her. She reached out her hand now and then, touching her so she'd know Sam was right behind her.

"No, AuntSam." She was happy and giddy but when she struggled to say words, it meant she was getting tired.

DD turned her back and used her hands as paddles shooting water behind her. Sam splashed her back but made sure the water never went higher than her butt. They continued this familiar game for well over an hour. It wasn't until Sam's stomach growled that she called a halt. DD would protest until she realized it was for food—her second favorite thing.

"Let's go make our picnic. Okay?"

"Okay, AnSam." Now she was plain tuckered out.

Trudging out of the water, the pair made their way to the cabin. Half an hour later, they'd made sandwiches, eaten raw veggies, a bag of chips that weren't on DD's diet, and some juice. They were sitting in the old rockers on the front deck which had been covered with plastic, but Sam had torn it off. The memory of sitting there watching her mom and dad rocking was almost too much, but DD had already plunked herself down and insisted Sam do the same. There was still an eerie feeling of sitting in the chair, but she did and then gently pushed with her left foot. She immediately stopped when the motion reminded her of sitting in her dad's lap while he rocked her back and forth. She had loved to cuddle with him. Her thoughts could easily pull her down a dark hole, she pushed them away.

"I guess it's almost time to go home." Dusk was hovering over them. They were hidden in the shadows, but the sun still danced over the lake, in a shimmering glow.

"No, AnSam."

She agreed with her but knew that they should head back to the city.

"How about a walk first?" She wanted to shake the uncomfortable feeling she'd had since they'd arrived. She thought a short walk around the beautiful place, might bring back the joy the place had once brought her.

DD nodded, although she didn't look thrilled with the idea. She didn't mind hiking but if they were going to do it, it should be because they were going somewhere, not just wandering.

Sam stood up. "Okay. Give me a few minutes to clean up. We don't want anyone to know we've been here, right?"

"I never tell, AnSam."

Going into the cabin, Sam picked up the garbage, the leftover food, and stuffed it back in the bags she'd brought. As she was turning, something caught her eye. She wasn't sure what it was. Dust covered everything. And nothing was where she remembered it being.

The yellowed scrape marks on the linoleum showed that the living room furniture had been moved. Why? It looked like it had been a long time ago. She didn't remember the couch being moved, ever. But then she had last looked at the place through the eyes of a seven-year-old.

Off to the right was the master bedroom, and the other slightly smaller bedroom to the left of it. Both were padlocked. They had been almost from the day they'd received the news about her dad. She remembered huddling with her brothers and sisters while watching tears run down her mom's cheeks as she and George moved all her dad's stuff into them and put the locks on them.

What are you hiding?

Thoughts of her dad's passing, the chaos of the funeral, her mom's misery, and then all her dad's things just vanishing. His clothes. His belongings. Nothing had been left in the house. Sam walked over to the door, grabbed the padlock and yanked on it. She wasn't sure what she'd expected, but it didn't open. She leaned her head against the door. The feeling of something almost sinister had her jerking back.

Who'd have the key? Mom?

She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she wondered how she could broach the subject. And if she was ready to. There was a burning need, an obsession that she had to get into that room. Needed to get in and see what was there. That surprised her, she hadn't cared about what was in the cabin or what had happened to her dad's stuff before, so why now?

Why did she give a damn what had happened to him? Or his stuff? He hadn't given a damn about her.

Logically, she couldn't help but wonder if the job as a reporter had her wanting to snoop everywhere. It seemed to have opened her to a whole new world … of needing to know stuff that was none of her business … of gathering information … of butting her nose in where it didn't belong. And she'd been getting paid for it and been very good at it. The job had woken her to the fact that she was good at hunting down clues and stories, and she enjoyed doing it. Not something she could say about any of her previous jobs. Some of the stories she'd uncovered had come from the obscurest tidbit of information and she'd been able to dig up a whole story—lies, cheating, stealing. She'd enjoyed digging into other people's stuff, finding the truth, what compelled them, what were the deep dark secrets they were hiding.

That was how she rationalized the feeling she was having, but somewhere deep inside, she knew there was something more. There was something compelling, something demanding that she get in that space and find answers. But answers to what?

Her dad dying? Or him choosing death over family?