“I mean, you went where most people from here are afraid to go,” she added, her voice deeper than I’d noticed previously. “It seems no one in town wants to so much as hint that Cody might have something to hide.”
“Why is that, do you think?”
“People like him apparently—at the office and in town... and speaking of which, I want to apologize for being so rude last night.”
I was glad she was going there. At the least it meant she could be a possible resource, willing to share info on the area.
“Apology accepted.”
“Feel like grabbing a cup of coffee? There’s a spot about ten minutes up the road, right on the lake.”
A chat with her could provide valuable background about the residents of Lake George, if, that is, she had an inclination to spill. But for all I knew, something big was about togo down right here at the volunteer center and Alice Hatfield was attempting to lure me off the premises so a colleague of hers could grab the scoop for the paper. She must have read the wariness in my eyes.
“No ulterior motive,” she said with a smile. “I promise.”
“Okay then. You want to lead and I’ll follow you?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Shortly later I was headed north on 9N, trailing behind her red MINI Cooper. After about two miles, we exited to the right and navigated our vehicles down a narrow paved road. Our destination appeared to be the boathouse-style restaurant that was at the very end, right on the lake, alongside a marina with at least thirty gleaming white powerboats of various sizes. Alice led me to a set of wooden steps and we climbed to the deck.
It was my first full view of the lake, which was absolutely stunning. When I’d been researching the area back in Manhattan, I’d stumbled upon a description of it that Thomas Jefferson had offered in a letter to his daughter. It was “without comparison,” he’d written, “the most beautiful water I ever saw... limpid as crystal.”
Yet another thing the guy had been right about.
The surroundings were equally riveting. On the eastern side of the lake, directly across from us, the low green mountains dropped right to the shoreline. As the range continued farther north, the color shifted to a faded blue, like a piece of duck cloth left too long in the sun.
“Do you have loons here?” I asked Alice as we walkedacross the deck. Though there were at least ten tables set outside, there wasn’t a single customer.
“Yes, more and more thanks to conservation efforts. And bald eagles now, too.... Why don’t we grab a seat?”
A waiter emerged from inside and said that though they weren’t officially open, he’d be happy to bring us coffee. His manner toward Alice suggested he was familiar with her.
“Do you generally cover this area for the paper?” I asked.
“No, I’m assigned stories pretty much as they arise, though seniority guarantees I land the good ones when they turn up. But I actually live a couple of miles down the lake in a winterized cabin, so I have the advantage of knowing people in this neck of the woods.”
“I can see why you’d want to live up here,” I said, nodding toward the lake. “It’s pretty special.”
“Well, at least duringpartsof the year. Winter’s a bitch. They can organize all the polar bear plunges they want, but it still doesn’t make it any fun to be here in January.”
She pulled off her beret and made a futile attempt to unflatten a severe case of hat hair.
“Do you have family here?”
“Not anymore. Husband died five years ago. Son’s in Chicago.... Look, let me say it again. Sorry about being rude last night. I’ve actually read your book and really liked it. I guess I was just in a pissy mood.”
“Because of something to do with the story?”
“In a sense. As bad as I feel for the Blaine kids, this is a super-compelling case. As you can imagine, we can go for awhile with nothing much to cover up here, when all we have for news is the health department’s annual ‘Be tick smart’ campaign. Finally, there’s something I can sink my teeth into, but I’ve got a crowd to contend with.”
“You mean the other reporters?”
“Yeah. They’re just doing their jobs, but some of them are working my last nerve. Did you see the one from Channel Six today? Gina Tesco? At the presser on Tuesday, she nearly mowed down a couple of people on her way to the front. She looked like an inebriated bridesmaid trying to make sure she caught the bouquet.”
I laughed out loud. “And then to add insult to injury, a reporter from somewebsiteshows up in a flippy skirt and mules.”
It was her turn to laugh, a full-throated one that showed she really meant it. “If you want to freeze your butt off, that’s your business. But after you and a few others arrived, I realized the story was definitely going national.Datelineis probably packing up their vans at this very moment, and you can bet they’ll try to muscle anyone local out of the way.”
