Thorn Lake: A David Thorne Novel

By Jack Lawrence

Embarking on a cross-country escape, David Thorne and Bella Martin look forward to a tranquil reunion with David's mother, Harriet. However, their idyllic plans shatter upon landing in Arkansas, where David receives distressing news of his mother's vicious assault.

While in the hospital, Harriet claims to have discovered a life

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jack Lawrence
• Release date: May 7, 2024
• ISBN: 9798869353825

Jack Lawrence

Jack Lawrence is a former family therapist turned author. His first three novels were instant bestsellers and his debut novel, Blood Thorn, won the 2023 BookFest Awards. He lives in Indiana with his family and their dog. When Jack isn't writing, he is out in nature with his family or out on his motorcycle looking for new adventures to live and mysteries to solve.

Book preview

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Acknowledgments

About the author

Thorn Lake

Also By Jack Lawrence

David Thorne Series Stand Alone

Blood Thorn I’ve Been Waiting

Bed of Thorns

Thorn Lake

Jack Lawrence

Copyright Notice

The characters and events in this book are fictitious Any similarities to real persons, alive or deceased, are purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

Text copyright © 2024

All rights reserved.

Printed in the United States of America.

No parts of this book may not be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, or photocopying, without the express written permission of the copyright holder.

⸙

To my brother TM. The Jack Marlow to my David Thorne.

Chapter 1

Harriet Thorne walked along the shore of Thorn Lake in Dale Grove State Park in Dale Grove, Arkansas. Dale Grove was less than an hour southeast of Hot Springs—not much further from Little Rock. The nightly walk had become a ritual since she and Martha had arrived the week before. Their cross-country trip was nearing the end as the August days began to grow shorter—though the temperatures during the day still hovered in the mid-90s—and eager leaves had begun to change color in some spots. The nights had been the first reminder for Harriet. Her graying hair swayed in the 69-degree lake-side winds. It was supposed to get down to 65 that night. With a cardigan warding off the crispness, Harriet ran her hand through her hair, stopping where the grays met. She adjusted her glasses over viridian green eyes, realizing the sunset’s true beauty might elude her without them.

It had been almost three months since she had last seen her son David and she had excitedly shared her anticipation with Martha most of the day about David and his girlfriend, Bella Martin’s visit over the next week. They had booked a room at the Dale Grove Inn inside the same state park she and Martha had been camping, using Martha’s twenty-nine-foot Windjammer 2618. When they had last spoke, David told her the practice was thriving again and his new secretary, Kerri Saint-Rose had been doing an exceptional job—though he was excited for Harriet’s return at the end of October.

Harriet continued onto the main part of the beach, letting the sand push between her toes and over the tops of her feet. The sand was still warm from earlier in the day, though noticeably cooler than it had been the week before. She stared out over Thorn Lake with its expansive 208 miles of shoreline enclosing the nearly 14,000 acres of water. The water was startlingly clear, as if glass had been placed over the spot delicately. It was calm and still, much like her soul.

This trip was one she had always dreamed of, though never thought she’d have the courage to take. She was just thankful she wasn’t taking it alone—because she never would have done it if she had to. In her twenties, she had imagined this trip being a way to celebrate a new chapter of her life with her husband. A way to kick off their golden years after their commitments to work were terminated and their duties to David were finished. She had never considered the possibility of divorce, nor had she thought she would spend five years working for her son after her first retirement. Life was funny like that. Even funnier was how it always seemed to work out. It wasn’t how she had always imagined it, but she was on the trip she had spent nights fantasizing about, with company far better than her ex-husband ever could have been.

Harriet looked down at her watch and smiled knowing her favorite part of the ritual would unfold in just a few minutes. Watching the sunset was why she and Martha came down every night. To see the explosive colors splashing over the glassy waters, like a painter who had spilled his palette accidentally creating a masterpiece. The water had a way of amplifying its own blue deepness as the reds and oranges streaked across the calm water with such clarity, Harriet swore she could walk on it like a bridge. Unlike most nights, the lake was clear of boats, which preserved the smoothness.

Tonight, however, she would be enjoying it alone. Martha wanted to tidy up the camper before David and Bella arrived the next day. Harriet would help when she returned, but she couldn’t bring herself to miss the sight. Not when knowing their time on the lake would be ending soon.

As she awaited her favorite ritual, Harriet dropped her purse to the sand. Glancing back at the retaining wall, she noticed an anomaly—an out-of-place man. He wore a disheveled suit, tie abandoned, and something seemed amiss.

The man didn’t look like he belonged on a beach—or a trail for that matter. He was wearing a wrinkled low-end suit that could be bought at any discount store. It looked like he had gone twelve heavy-weight rounds with his tie, only to give up, leaving it uneven.

Sir, she called out to the man as she approached. Her mind went straight to David. How many people found themselves in a similar situation, drunk and at the end of their road, beaten by life? She wondered what David would say to this man who clearly looked like he needed some lifting.

As she got closer, the sand seemed to grow colder. She recognized him. It was Nathaniel Brown. He and his wife Mary were the campground hosts at Dale Grove. Their job entailed spending the entire season at a designated campground performing light maintenance, customer service, and providing other campers with firewood. They were a nice couple, both in their late fifties. Madly in love. Spending their retirement exactly as Harriet had hoped she’d spend hers. He ran some sort of plastic business. He hadn’t fully retired, but the way he described it he wasn’t involved much unless there was something big to be done. His partner continued most of the day-to-day business.

Mr. Brown, Harriet felt her voice quiver as she scanned the beach hoping others would be arriving soon. The closer she got, the harder the prodding voice in her head poked. Run, it had said. He’s dead, it screamed. Both instincts went ignored. Even if the man had died on the beach, how terrible would it be for her to run off? What if he wasn’t dead? If he needed help, her leaving could cost him his life.

She hurried her pace, sweat began to roll from her brow despite the cooling temperature. The caressing breeze off the lake didn’t even offer help as she felt her blood begin to warm.

When she reached Mr. Brown, she couldn’t deny it. There was no more room for rationalization, pleading, or even hope. He was clearly dead.

You should have walked away, the voice was gravely. More surprisingly to Harriet, it seemed apologetic. The voice was feminine in a way. It sounded like…

Before she could even process the voice or her battened-down muscles, she heard the echoing thud wrap around the back of her head to her ears. The beauty of the lake, the cool sand squeezing between her toes, and her excitement to see David all faded away to nothingness.

Chapter 2

It was ten in the morning when David bid farewell to James and Kerri. Over the past two months, he had added eight clients to his roster. While he was not used to such a light caseload, he relished the freedom it provided him, allowing for a more active role in running his practice. With Harriet traveling the country, he had begun to handle more of the administrative tasks. David had added one group a week and a couple’s retreat he planned to hold in December. With these additions, it compensated for a lighter caseload.

James, on the other hand, preferred to keep a full roster of twenty clients. He figured the more clients he saw now would only ease the transition from an associate therapist to a fully licensed one.

Kerri had just finished adding a new client to James’s list as David was leaving. Her sunburst red hair struggled to lay flat as the August humidity infiltrated the office, despite the building’s AC being on full blast. She had long since rolled up the sleeves on her white blouse—which for some reason she eagerly told James she bought from Saks—and plugged in a desktop fan under her desk. The woman had the energy as a teenager, which she had aged out of a little more than a decade ago. David envied her tirelessness, as he was usually exhausted by five, slugging through his final session.

Have a safe trip, her voice floated from behind the desk.

I hope so. If you and James don’t burn the place down next week, I’ll take you both out to dinner.

Kerri glowed with promises of a standing building upon his return.

David ran his right hand over his freshly shaven face, something he was still getting used to after having attempted to grow a beard for three months. He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, which seemed to have shrunk slightly over the past year. He had started to join Bella on her weekly trips to the gym. He couldn’t help but notice his muscles becoming a little firmer on his average frame. His brown hair, which normally lightened a shade or two each summer, had remained dark due to spending most of his time in the office, attempting to regrow his practice after regaining his license a few months before. He could hardly believe it had been a year since Havana—it seemed like a lifetime ago.

The next few hours were a whirlwind. He met Bella in the lobby. Her hair was up in a ponytail, less sun-kissed than when she spent her summers working in a beach-side diner. Though now there was a lightness about her, a hopefulness she didn’t quite possess when in Havana. Her positive outlook had been magnified now with the hope she had for a future. However, that came at a cost, with bags lightly forming beneath her foundation due to long nights studying for law school courses.

He loaded their bags before driving them to the airport, navigating rage-filled drivers and yelling travelers for a spot in the extended parking lot. Then they ran through the smog of summer to their terminal, with just barely enough time to board. The flight to Atlanta took an hour with a 90-minute layover, then back onto a new plane for the final hour flight—which irritated David. Once at Little Rock Clinton National Airport, they fought a mob of sweaty travelers bellowing profanities until they had claimed their bags. At the car rental desk, they picked up their keys from a young man with soulless eyes and slick hair.

When they finally sat in their rented Toyota Corolla, seven and a half hours had passed. It was 5 p.m. back home, but fortunately only four in Arkansas. David felt the one-hour difference was worse for his internal clock rather than better.

It’s an hour’s drive to the inn. I don’t think I’m going to make it, David groaned his defeat.

I can drive, Bella offered. That nap in Atlanta helped a lot.

Think we should get a room? Start fresh in the morning?

Bella smirked playfully. Your mom hasn’t seen you in almost three months. If you rob her of any time she gets to see us, she will literally beat you. One more hour probably won’t kill us.

David nodded his agreeance. You drive.

They got out of the car to switch spots and David turned his phone off from airplane mode. Before he had a chance even to enter the car, his phone began buzzing and beeping with twelve missed calls, an equal number of missed texts, and an unknown number of voicemails.

What the heck is going on? Bella asked as she clicked her belt buckle.

I guess they didn’t make it too long before burning down the office.

The twelve missed calls were all from an unknown number. The texts were from Martha, but he didn’t read them. His heart felt like it skipped a beat, causing him to feel woozy for a moment. He thought he might pass out. Why would Martha text him so many times? If they were curious when David and Bella might arrive, his mother would be the one to reach out.

He went back to his call log as Bella pulled free from their parking space. He called the number back.

Saint Mary’s Hospital, Dale Grove, seventh floor. How may I direct your call?

Yes, my name is David Thorne, his tongue had turned to sandpaper making speech nearly impossible. His throat throbbed with tension; his worst imagined outcome had come true. Bella could hear the rattle in his voice and pulled the car to the curb, grabbing his hand. Her eyes asked what was happening.

I had a few missed calls from this number.

The voice dropped sympathetically. Yes, did you listen to the messages?

No. Is everything all right? He didn’t dare ask if this had to do with his mother. If he didn’t ask, he could hold onto hope for a moment longer.

Your mother was in an accident. She said she was attacked last night.

She said… So, she is alive? Is she okay?

She has a concussion. She will be kept at least one more night for observations, but the doctor may want to keep her an extra day beyond that. She said you were on your way into town. Do you want me to tell her you’ll be here in the morning?

We will be there in about an hour, is that all right?

That will be fine. I will let her know, but you drive safe. We don’t need you getting admitted somewhere, too.

I will. Have the doctors completed their tests?

Bella’s eyes shot wide. David could see the concern building in them, he squeezed her hand a little tighter.

Last evening and most of this morning. I shouldn’t tell you this, but scans showed the only injury was the concussion. She had a nasty contusion that required seven stitches, but all-in-all she’s a lucky woman. They didn’t see any serious damage. She should make a full recovery.

Thank you, David told her before hanging up. I’ll look up the address.

※※※※

Thirty minutes into the silent drive, David broke. I wanted to talk to you about something.

What’s that? Bella’s hands were still glued to the steering wheel, her eyes focused like lasers on the road before her. She was well above the speed limit, yet within the range of getting to the hospital ticket-free.

David cleared his throat. The topic of conversation had only been approached twice in their year together, both times it had been met with strong resistance. What happened between you and your parents? I want to know everything about you. I feel as though there’s this one big secret that keeps that from happening.

Bella’s eyes shifted slightly. We should be focused on your mom right now. That’s what matters.

We still have a long drive and if I think about my mom, it’ll just make me worry more. And I meant what I said. There’s this part of you that’s cast in some shadow. A part of you I don’t know.

Bella licked