Page 35 of The Summer Guests

“But they found someone in the pond. I saw them bring up the bag.”

“It wasn’t Zoe. It wasn’t my daughter.” She released a shaky breath. “I’ll tell the family you were here.” Again, she started to close the door.

“Tell them I haven’t forgotten. Tell that to Arthur Fox too.”

“Haven’t forgotten what?”

“Just tell them I haven’t forgotten what they did,” he said. Then he tipped his head and added, quietly: “I hope they find your girl, ma’am.”

She watched him walk away, down the lawn toward Moonview’s dock, where his blue kayak was tied up. Shaken, she closed the door and locked it. The encounter had unsettled her so deeply that for a moment she stood paralyzed, his words echoing in her head.

Tell them I haven’t forgotten what they did.

She looked at the coffee table, at Ethan’s handwritten pages, which now took on new significance.What they did.She pictured the family standing at this moment on Cameron Mountain, singing George’s praises. A memorial service was not the place to speak of a person’s flaws or misdeeds. No, they would release his ashes with words of praise. A fine man, a generous man. A good husband and father and grandfather. Whether truth or fiction, the accolades would be spoken, and then they would all come down the mountain again. Mission accomplished. George’s last wishes fulfilled.

She went to the window and gazed across the water to the opposite bank, where Reuben Tarkin was already pulling his kayak ashore.What hasn’t he forgotten?she wondered.

What did the Conovers do to you?

Chapter 18

She’d hoped to bring up the subject of Tarkin’s visit in private, but Elizabeth had invited Arthur and Hannah back to the house and all of them invaded at once, sun-flushed and sweating and smelling of bug spray. George Conover’s ashes had been scattered among the rocks and wildflowers of Cameron Mountain, and now it was time for lunch. Out came a buffet of cold cuts and French cheeses and potato salad that Brooke had bought from the deli in town. Arthur Fox opened bottles of chardonnay, and even the usually reclusive Kit pitched in, setting out plates and silverware and wineglasses. It might have been George’s final send-off, but life went on and they might as well enjoy a decent lunch. How obscenely normal it seemed to Susan, watching them fill their plates with food.

She couldn’t stomach the thought of cold meat, so she took only a few carrot and celery sticks, just to satisfy Ethan that she was eating. She had nothing to contribute to the conversation, so she merely sat and listened to them talk about how much George had loved the view from that mountain, and how pleased he’d be that they’d all been there to honor him. Susan kept glancing at the clock, wondering when the hell the neighbors would leave so she could ask about Reuben Tarkin and his cryptic comment, but Arthur and Hannah seemed to have planted themselves here for the afternoon. Then Brooke asked if anyone wanted coffee, and Hannah said “Yes, please,” and Susan couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Who is Reuben Tarkin?” she said.

She might as well have tossed a bomb into the room. Arthur, in the middle of a sentence, abruptly went silent. So did the others, as they all turned to look at Susan.

It was Kit who broke the spell. “Isn’t that the old guy across the lake?” he asked, but no one seemed to hear him; they were all focused on Susan.

“Why are you asking about that man?” Elizabeth said.

“He came to see me this morning. While you were all out.”

“Wait. He camehere?” Colin set down his glass with a loud thud. “Of all the fucking nerve.”

Brooke touched her husband’s arm. “Colin.”

“How many times has he been warned to stay away from us? After all the trouble he’s caused?”

“What has he done?” asked Susan.

Ethan said, “The man’s just a troublemaker. He’s been harassing our family for years.” He looked at Colin. “Remember the summer he left the bag of rotting fish on our deck?”

“Damn right I remember,” said Colin. “And Dad kept letting him get away with that stuff.” He rose from his chair and went to the window to glare across the pond. “That was justoneof the incidents.”

“And he stalked Anna,” said Elizabeth. “Frightened her so much she quit with no notice. Just packed up and left overnight.”

“Who’s Anna?” Susan asked.

“Kit’s nanny. A sweet girl from Mexico. Reuben was obsessed with her. Followed her into town, kept harassing her on our dock. Even brought her flowers. He was old enough to be her father, but he had some insane notion that she was romantically interested in him.”

“InReuben?” Hannah laughed. “That’s delusional!”

“One night, he showed up at the door with a baseball bat,” said Elizabeth. “Colin and I were out of town, but George told us the man scared Anna so badly she quit on the spot. Brooke helped her pack, andGeorge drove her to the airport. He called her a week later, trying to get her to return, but she refused.”

“And that’s our madman across the pond,” said Colin. “I don’t know why Dad didn’t call the police that night. If I’d been here—”

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