Chapter Text
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Note: The opening chapter is stage setting. Gibbs and Tony will be along in chapter 2.
~Deep Lake Inn, PA~
The late summer air around the inn was oppressive and still, and the surface of the nearby lake was mirror-smooth. Tom looked up from the veranda railings and spindles he and his father were repairing as thunder rumbled in the distance. He sighed at the storm clouds looming behind the mountains across the lake. So much for talking his dad into going hunting later. They nailed the piece of wood in place and his father rose, glancing at the tools, sawdust, and wood scraps scattered about the large veranda.
“Tom, your stepmother and I will be spending the night in town, so I’ll need you and your brother to help Gran look after things today since we have guests checking in later. I want the porch cleaned up and tools put away before the storm hits. We can’t paint until the weather clears and its dry, so take one of the ATV’s and check the cabins instead.”
Tom scowled. Speaking of his brother… “Where’s Rory? He should be here helping,” he complained.
“I don’t want to keep having this argument with you, son. Your attitude is juvenile and it upsets your stepmother,” his father admonished. “It’s also the reason Rory spends so much time in town now, so maybe you should think about that. Anyway, I already asked him to help you today. Rory does his fair share.”
“Sure he does, dad,” Tom replied, hiding his eye roll.
“Your brother will be here as soon as Ben drops him off, and along with helping you check the cabins, he’ll be working on getting the boats and fishing gear ready for the guests.”
Half-brother, Tom thought petulantly. His parents, especially his father, doted on both his half-siblings. Twins Rory and Rhianne were his father’s favorites and he seemed to forget his oldest son and long dead first wife. Tom had come to resent Rory in particular.
“Alright dad,” Tom sighed, not wanting to argue. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Thank you, son.” Thunder sounded again, still distant, and his father looked back at the dark clouds building in the mountains on the far side of the lake. “You best hurry. I’ll send Rhianne out to help,” he offered, then went into the house.
Set on a hill above a large, picture-perfect lake, the sprawling house and surrounding land had been in the family since the last century; just a small part of what had once been a vast fortune built on coal mining. When the area mines played out and the family fortune dwindled, his great-grandfather recovered by converting the main house into a bed and breakfast. The gamble had been so successful, the main house had gained additional wings and the large property now had a number of outbuildings.
Deep Lake Inn offered rooms in the main house to city folks looking to enjoy the serene natural setting and escape urban life for a while. His grandparents built the large boathouse on the lakeshore and they’d procured canoes, kayaks, and small fishing boats for the use of their guests. His own parents added the rustic cabins that now dotted the expansive wooded property around the lake, and supplemented their income by renting them to campers and hunters.
His father and stepmother had been helping his grandmother run the property in the years since their grandfather passed, and fully expected their sons to follow suit. The idea of sharing the inheritance with Rory didn't appeal to him, but he was determined to be a dutiful son. The resentment and jealousy inspired by his younger brother didn’t extend to his sister. Much of the time, she had a sweet, childlike innocence about her that begged for protection, spoiling, and indulgence. Rhianne, or Ree as they usually called her, got all of the above from her brothers and parents. Rhianne could also be flighty and was sometimes prone to dark, depressive moods. She seemed content to stay at home helping around the inn. Rory had recently graduated college, so who knew what he was going to do.
The screen door slamming shut pulled him from his thoughts about his irritating younger siblings. “Dad sent me to help, Tom,” Rhianne stated, looking at him expectantly.
“Thanks, Ree.” He handed the broom over to his sister and pointed at the sawdust-covered porch. “We have to get all the sawdust swept up before the rain. It’ll be harder to get off if it gets wet.” She nodded as she took the broom and he went back to putting tools away.
They worked companionably for a time, until Tom noticed his sister had stopped sweeping to watch a car drive to the gravel lot beside the house and park. Impatient to finish so he could get started making rounds of the cabins, he scowled at his sister and was about to snap at her. He stopped himself on recognizing the figures sitting in the car. His best friend, Ben Griffin, and he saw Rory was with him as his father said. He shoved down a wave of resentment. His half-brother was the town’s golden boy as well as his father’s little favorite.
His younger brother was everything he himself was not. Handsome, athletic, and smart, Rory was well liked everywhere he went. Though Rory never said a cross word to his brother, or anyone else, just seeing him smiling and happy was like salt in the wound. His father favored his youngest son so much, it didn’t even seem to matter that he developed a preference for relations with men over women.
His own friendship with Ben had become strained after Ben had started seeing his brother. Ben had little time for him any longer and he irrationally blamed Rory for the friction caused by his own jealousy. Then there was Rhianne, with her fantasies about Ben. She had a crush on him going back years and was oblivious to the fact that he only had eyes for Rory these days.
His parents had no idea of the drama they were creating when they hired Ben to help Rory to maintain the boats and fishing gear in the summer seasons. They let him keep his kayak in their boathouse with Rory’s, so he was always around the property, and treated like family much to Ree’s delight and his own chagrin.
"Stop daydreaming, Ree," he urged, tamping down his frustration with his stepsister and irritation at seeing Rory and Ben together. They seemed to be arguing about something in the car now, and he felt a bolt of vicious satisfaction run through him at the idea the relationship might be failing.
A few minutes later, he heard the car doors open and looked up to see both men emerge. Whatever the earlier argument was about, they seemed to have resolved it for the moment. Rory and Ben jostled each other playfully as they walked past the inn and down toward the boathouse, turning back at the girl's soft greeting from the wide, wraparound porch.
Ben tossed a friendly wave back to Rhianne and Tom while Rory called out.
“Tom, after Ben leaves for his shift,” Rory called back, “I’ll take the kayak and check the cabins on the far side of the lake, if you want.”
“Thanks Rory,” he said grudgingly. “Don’t get wet,” he added with a smirk as thunder rumbled again, unable to resist the mean spirited remark.
Rory just waved back good naturedly, and the two younger men continued down the steep slope to the boathouse on the lakeshore.
Tom turned to see Rhianne mooning after Ben.
"Quit daydreaming about Ben; he isn’t interested in you,” Tom scolded his sister mildly. “Dad needs us to finish this, and I've got a lot of other things to do later."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
After his shift ended that afternoon, Ben returned to the main house to pick Rory up for dinner.
“Rory!” Ben called from the inn’s front entrance. “Hey Tom,” Ben greeted, seeing his friend alone at the check in desk. “That was some storm this morning huh? Where’s Rory?”
“It was pretty impressive, yeah,” Tom replied. His voice turned sour as he added, “I don’t know where Rory is. “I haven’t seen him all day. He’s probably just disappeared to avoid work…and be quiet, will you? Ree is sick and sleeping upstairs.”
Ben frowned. “I'm sorry about Ree, but you know better than that, Tom. Rory does just as much work around here as you do. It’s not work he’s avoiding…it’s you. I know all about how you treat him. He brings it home and I’m tired of arguing with him about you. Lighten up, okay?”
Tom paled a bit, hoping no one overheard the exchange. “You’re right, Ben. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not me you should be apologizing to, it’s your brother,” he said heatedly. “What the hell is wrong with you, anyway? He hasn’t come back to the house all day and you didn’t even care enough to check on him?”
A strange expression crossed Tom’s features and Ben didn’t know what to make of it. He wished his friend could get past his simmering resentment of his brother and their relationship.
“Ree and I are alone and we had guests checking in this evening,” Tom explained. “Rory hasn’t been up here; check the boathouse,” he suggested in a conciliatory tone.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Ben slid the boathouse back door open, expecting to see Rory tinkering with fishing gear or doing maintenance on the boats while waiting for him to come back. He got an uneasy feeling on seeing Rory’s backpack on a worktable, and no sign of him anywhere. Ben's stomach flipped as he looked up at the boat racks and saw Rory’s kayak missing. Unease turned to dread as he snatched up a pair of binoculars and rushed along the pier that extended from the far side of the boathouse, out beyond the edge of the lake. He stopped at the end of the pier, skidding on the rain-slick boards.
Even if Rory stayed in one of the cabins to wait out the storm, he should have been back by now. Ben began to scan the water for signs of his lover's bright red kayak when something yellow floating in the distance caught his eye. An oar.
Please, no! This isn’t happening…
He prayed as he brought the binoculars up to stinging eyes and began to scan the lake; it’s glass calm surface seeming to mock him. He was almost holding his breath as he searched through the mist that settled in the valley after the storm...and there it was. Fear choked him as he realized Rory must have been caught out on the water when the storm hit. Grief tightened his chest, replacing the fear as he caught a glimpse of something through the binoculars. Toward the far side of the lake, an overturned red kayak floated gently on the water's surface, with no sign of the person who'd been in it.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~