waving tips of grass. The man was well out in the water, still struggling with the weight on his shoulder.
âBen,â she said softly after lying down next to her brother again.
He interrupted. âDid you see what I saw, Abby?â
She nodded. âItâs okay, Ben. He doesnât know weâre here. If you stay quiet, heâll go away, and we can go home.â
âThatâs all I want, Abby. I just want to go home.â His voice rose again. âItâs all because we skipped school.â
Abby put her finger over his lips. âQuiet, Ben. Itâs not because of anything we did.â She bit her lip and took another quick glance at the man in the water. âYou stay here. Iâm going to get a closer look at the car and the license plate.â
Ben grabbed at her. âOh, no, Abby!â
âShhh! Itâs okay. He canât see you here, and heâs way out in the water. Iâll be right back. Iâm just going to get his license plate number. Heâll never know.â
âAbby, please.â Tears rolled down Benâs face.
âIâll be right back. Just stay quiet, and then weâll go home, okay?â
Ben answered by shutting his eyes and clasping his hands together in prayer. Abby smiled when his lips began moving in silent entreaties. She reached out to stroke his shoulder, and then turned to crawl through the brush toward the car.
Rocks poked at her hands and knees, but the car was even closer than it had appeared through the tall grass and in short order she was at the driverâs door, the chiming ignition tolling like a funeral dirge. She rose up to look inside and saw plush leather seats, a folded road map, and a black sport coat on the passengerâs side. Stretching higher, she peered over the dash and through the windshield at the man. From this range he looked even larger than before, his spiked hairstyle adding three inches to his height. Up to his thighs in water, his broad back arched up and outward from the close-fitting hip waders. They seemed too small for him, Abby thought, like they didnât belong to him, especially considering the fancy trousers and black linen shirt he wore. His right hand grabbed at the nylon rope attached to Rose Bengstonâs marker buoys, while his left arm still clutched the bundle draped over his shoulder.
Stealing a quick glance behind her, Abby gasped when she spotted Ben running for the safety of the woods. But another peek over the dash showed the man still in the water, his back to them. When Ben made the treeline, Abby relaxed in the knowledge that her little brother could find his way home through the woods as easily as a city kid following street signs.
She dropped to her knees to crawl to the back of the car. Completely hidden from view here, she turned sideways to look behind her down the neglected road. Weeds and rocks jutted up between the wheel ruts. Thatâs why the car had appeared so suddenly, she realized. Like magic. The big sedan would have been barely moving over this rough terrain.
A flash of light reflecting through the trees interrupted her thoughts. A moment later, another flash, this one closer. Then she heard the rumble of a failing exhaust system and caught a glimpse of an old pickup truck approaching. Now Abby experienced her own heart-stopping panic as she realized she was about to be trapped between the man in the waders and the oncoming truck.
She grabbed the bumper of the car and lifted herself up to read the license plate. With the trunk still open, however, she discovered the license plate was over her head on the back of the trunk lid. Out of time now and acting on instinct, she stood up to get a better look, and came eye to eye with the man in the waders.
Returning to shore over the slippery, rocky lake bottom, heâd been watching the approaching truck when he spotted Abby as she stood up behind his car. The dark sunglasses obscured his