Cradle Lake by Ronald Malfi Read Free Book Online

just happened to glance up and see it. Its lights and engine off, it looked abandoned. From this distance, he couldn’t tell if there was anyone sitting inside it or not. Was it the same car from earlierthat day? He tried to make out the sheriff’s department emblem on the door, but it was too dark.
    Alan tossed the cigarette butt and walked to the edge of the property. One of the neighbors was probably a police officer and parked his car in the street at night to deter burglars. No big deal. Yet on the other hand, if there was something going on in the neighborhood—something that required around-the-clock police surveillance, in other words—he wanted to know about it.
    There was movement from inside the police car. He was positive he saw something. The shape of someone sitting up behind the wheel …
    Alan stepped into the street and walked toward the police car. The cruiser’s headlamps flared on, startling him. He froze, spotlighted in the glow of the headlights. His shadow became an elongated scarecrow on the pavement behind him.
    The cruiser’s engine coughed to life. The car pulled away from the curb and nearly hopped the opposite one as it spun around and took off down the street toward the nearest intersection.
    Alan watched the cruiser’s taillights disappear in the darkness.

CHAPTER FIVE
    Hank Gerski’s basement was a shrine to the Baltimore Orioles. Theatrical-sized posters of Cal Ripken Jr. hung from the paneling; a conga line of autographed baseballs sat on the mantelpiece, hermetically sealed in clear plastic globes; a scuffed pair of cleats hung from a bronze peg above a coffee table, the tabletop itself a patchwork of baseball cards housed in Lucite. Hank had played a single season with the O’s in the early nineties before an auto accident ruined his left knee. He worked now as a bookkeeper for a law firm and didn’t seem bitter about settling for a life of mediocrity.
    Alan surveyed the paraphernalia. “Do you miss playing?”
    â€œI did early on. Thought my life had ended. Not so much anymore, though.”
    â€œI’d be devastated.”
    Hank shrugged. “Family keeps me busy enough, I guess.”
    â€œYeah, but still … I mean, that had to have been onehell of a ride, playing professional ball.”
    â€œIt’s only a game,” he said, grinning goofily. He was dressed in a ridiculous Hawaiian shirt and overly starched chinos and sipped noisily from a can of beer. “You guys planning to have kids?”
    Outside, laughter from the backyard could be heard as Lydia entertained the rest of their guests. Alan hadn’t wanted to attend the barbecue, but he thought it might be good for Heather to get out of the house and meet some of the neighbors, so he had accepted Hank’s invitation.
    â€œI don’t know,” Alan said dryly.
    â€œIt’s a great neighborhood, a great place to raise kids,” Hank went on. “Everyone’s real friendly. Fourth of July we have a parade down Market Street, and at Christmas all the shops in town are decorated real nice. Santa comes through on a fire engine and everything, throwing candy canes to the kids. You’ll see how crazy it gets at Halloween soon enough, too, so make sure you guys get plenty of candy. Your doorbell will be ringing all night. And trust me, man, you don’t want to clean up toilet paper from the trees the next morning.”
    â€œAnything bad every happen in this great neighborhood?” Alan said. He hadn’t meant to sound sarcastic, but Hank didn’t seem to notice.
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œWell, I’ve noticed a cop car sitting across the street on two different occasions. Once in the middle of the night. I was wondering if there’d been some burglaries or vandalism in the neighborhood. Anything like that.”
    â€œOh,” said Hank, “you’re talking about Sheriff Landry. It’snothing to worry