Then my fingers brushed against something inside the side pocket.
It was flat and stiff.
I unzipped the pocket.
Inside was a white plastic key card.
A small green pine tree was printed on it.
Beneath the image were the words:
LAKEVIEW INN — ROOM 12
My hands began trembling.
The men always stayed at the Pine Rest Motel.
That cheap place near the highway with the unreliable ice machine.
The Lakeview Inn was somewhere else entirely.
A beautiful old Victorian hotel overlooking Loon Lake.
It had a wraparound porch, rocking chairs, and large windows facing the water.
I knew that hotel.
Because twenty-six years earlier, Mark and I had spent our honeymoon there.
In Room 12.
I stared at the key card.
The memory hit me so hard I almost couldn’t breathe.
Our wedding night.
The brass bed.
The lake outside the window.
Mark laughing as he carried our bags into the room.
