by Janet Dailey
Linc wondered why she hadn’t called him. Oh, well. As long as she was there.
“That’s great.”
“Guess you didn’t talk to her about it.”
“Not today. Not last night either. I was going to.”
Mike smiled faintly. “Kenzie doesn’t seem to be the type who waits for instructions.”
“No,” Linc said. “Which is good sometimes and bad other times.”
Mike only nodded. He stepped on the board walkway and surveyed the roof. “Okay. We need to dust. This is a big area. I have to call a couple of my guys, get them out of bed.”
“Do that. I’m going to go home and change. Meet you back here.”
The words were spoken into the air. Mike was squatting down, examining the textured asphalt surface by the walkway. He picked up a few grains by pressing his fingertips against it. “Old and crumbly. I bet some of this stuck to his shoes.” He looked up at Linc and flicked the grains away. “Maybe he keeps his shoes in the same place he hides his car. Haven’t found a trace of the black bomb.”
Linc shrugged, heading for the door to the stairs. “I doubt he took the tires off it.”
“Meaning?”
“He has more than one pair of shoes and more than one car,” Linc called back over his shoulder as he went down to the landing. He paused to listen to Mike’s reply.
“Don’t get cocky. I thought of that.”
“Good thing you could come in right away, Ms. MacKenzie,” Harry said.
“Call me Kenzie.” She smiled, summoning up her confidence. “I wanted to do it while the memory is fresh.”
Not quite the right word. Seared was better. That masked face was going to leave a permanent scar in part of her brain.
The police artist opened up a file on his computer. “Was there a particular feature that really stayed with you? Like, say, a broken nose or male pattern baldness? We can start with something like that and go on to the more subtle stuff.”
Kenzie hesitated.
“We can go slow,” Harry advised. “Getting a likeness takes patience.”
“I didn’t see his hair. He was wearing a mask that covered a lot of his face. It—it had an opening for his mouth.”
Harry listened.
“His eyes,” she said. “I saw them clearly.”
“Good. Let’s look at eyes.” He clicked on a document. “Take your time.”
CHAPTER 18
Linc met up with Kenzie at Hamill’s. She was out in the parking lot, throwing a large ring toy for Beebee. The dog had boundless energy, but she looked wiped out.
The gate had been left open. There were a few shooters getting ready to fire at the range and a customer inside the shop. He returned Norm’s wave through the glass.
From inside his car Linc watched Beebee gallop off to retrieve a wild throw. It took him about half a minute to find it and come back with the large ring hanging from his mouth. He looked like a door knocker. A very happy door knocker.
“Give it up,” she told the dog. Beebee shook his head. “So much for you being an obedience champ.”
The dog didn’t seem to care in the least. He went to the doormat of the shop and flopped down. Then he put his paw protectively over the toy and grinned at Kenzie.
“Having fun?” Linc asked as he approached.
“Beebee is.”
“He has a lot of energy.”
Kenzie summoned up a smile from somewhere, but it disappeared fast. “Not me. Not after last night.”
Linc gave her a reassuring chuck under the chin and she lifted her head. The vulnerable look in her eyes got to him. She had a right to be scared.
“Mike and a couple of detectives are going over the building. I gave them your apartment keys.”
“Fine with me.” She shrugged. “You know I’m never going back there, right?”
“No reason to. Not for you, I mean.”
She thrust her hands into the pockets of her jeans, looking over at Beebee. “When I get shaky, I lean on him.”
Beebee sat, still keeping his paw over the toy, surveying the parking lot. He looked even bigger at rest, muscular and heavy, his black coat gleaming in the sun.
“Good idea. He’s a great dog.” He hesitated for a second or two, then spoke. “I was thinking maybe you’d like to get away for a day.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“You and me and a lazy river.”
Her green eyes lost their vulnerable look. “Sounds nice.”
“We could be there in half an hour.”
She nodded. The smile came back.
“Is that the place?” she asked. “Hard to see all of it.”
The boathouse was tucked under the bridge on the Georgetown side. A row of colorful kayaks rested on a floating dock. Several had been taken out and returned, judging by the puddles underneath them.
“It’s there.”
They made their way down carefully. Departing kayakers had left puddles on the steps too.
“How wet are we going to get?” she asked jokingly.
“We’re ready for it.”
Linc had stopped on the way at a sporting goods store and bought quick-dry tops and bottoms for both of them. She’d wanted to pay but he had waved her away from the register as the cashier was cutting off the tags. They’d changed in the dressing rooms, returning to the car with their jeans and warm jackets bundled under their arms.
The proprietor came out of the boathouse when they reached the docks. “Hiya. I’m Ted. What can I do for you?” Ted had long hair tied back in a scraggly ponytail and a relaxed grin. He wore baggy print shorts that hung below his knees and almost fell off his skinny hips.
“We’d like to rent a kayak for a couple of hours,” Linc said.
“No problemo. You guys got the memo on the no-heavy-clothes-thing, I see.” He looked with approval at their outfits. “I can give you a drypack for your wallets and stuff.”
Linc nodded. “That would be great.”
“Okay,” Ted said, leading them to the kayaks. “I can set you guys up with a double. Pick a color.”
“Your choice, Kenz,” Linc said. “Pink, purple, yellow. There’s a green, ready to go.” He pointed to the side of the dock.
“Hmm.” The shape of the bobbing kayak and the color put her in mind of a leaf on the water. Exactly what she wanted to be. “The green one.”
“You got it.” Ted walked back with them to the boathouse and Linc took care of the rental paperwork. They listened to Ted’s brief spiel on safety and rules of the river, then put their personal items into the drypack he offered them and donned lifejackets.
Ted took hold of the nylon rope that kept the kayak alongside the dock and pulled it closer.
“Ladies first,” Linc said.
Kenzie stepped down into the scooped-out seat and found a comfortable position against the low backrest. Then she extended her legs into a partially bent position and rested a hand on the attached paddle.
“Whoa. I’m not in yet.” Linc stepped in and the kayak rocked. He took a little longer to get settled, slipping the drypack under a flexible net.
“Excellent,” Ted said. “You guys look like you know what you’re doing.”
“Just so long as we don’t have to run any rapids,” Kenzie joked.
“Nah. The whitewater is way upstream. But be careful. Down here the Potomac looks fat and slow, but it can fool ya.”
Kenzie looked out at the wide river. Farther out, tiny ripples met and swirled where the water was deeper and the current got stronger.
“Ready to shove off?” Ted asked.
“Yup,” Linc said.
She looked over her shoulder to see him raise his paddle and use it to push away from the dock. Ted waved to them. “Have a great time, you two.”
Kenzie sat with her paddle resting across her thighs.
“Might as well let me start us off,” Linc said.
“But you’re doing all the work.”
“Feels li
ke fun to me. Just relax.”
She didn’t argue.
They floated silently through the soaring arches of the Key Bridge, which seemed much higher from their new vantage point. Downriver, there was a faint mist that hung above the water, softening the stone walls of the riverbanks.
The large, wild-looking island ahead seemed lost in time. The tall trees on it had lost most of their leaves, but there were touches of rich autumn color here and there on the bare branches.
For the first time in weeks she felt free, moving through the river as naturally as the fish and fowl who lived in it. She breathed in its coolness, enjoying the play of light on the surface.
“I could do this for days,” she murmured, glancing over her shoulder at him.
Linc laughed. He seemed much more relaxed himself. His dark hair was blown every which way by the light wind, and his face glowed with ruddy color.
“I know what you mean.” He paddled on with strong, swift strokes, and she picked up her paddle and joined in, just for something to do.
Another double kayak headed upstream, keeping close to shore to stay clear of the current. Kenzie thought for a moment that it held three people. She squinted. There was a man, a woman, and—
“Oh, it’s a dog,” she said.
It was a retriever, outfitted in a canine life vest, whiffing the air and having a fabulous time. She waved to its owners as they went by.
“Can you imagine Beebee on a kayak?” Linc said with amusement.
“If he stayed still, he’d be fine.”
“And if he didn’t, he’d capsize us.” Linc paddled closer to the island. “Want to get out? There’s a nice little cove right ahead. We could tie up to a tree.”
“No.” She laughed. “Just drifting like this is heaven.”
He whistled a song that she knew mentioned heaven in the lyrics. The kayak pointed downstream again and the island was behind it.
It was nice knowing that Linc was so close. If it weren’t for the low seat, she could lean back and lie in his arms. Well, no. Not if he had to paddle.
“I changed my mind,” she said. “Let’s go exploring.”
Linc grinned and turned the kayak in a tight half-circle. “You got it.”
Closer to, the island didn’t look as inviting. Maybe it was because the sun had gone behind a cloud. The tangle of dead brush under the tall trees seemed impenetrable.
She turned around and glanced anxiously at Linc. “Maybe we shouldn’t. Those look like briars. And I’m sure that’s poison ivy.”
He lifted his dripping paddle and rested it across his lap while he looked out at the island.
Something about it didn’t seem to sit well with him either. He didn’t argue with her.
Two hours later they returned to the boathouse and saw Ted on the dock.
“Looks like we’re the last ones to come in,” Linc said.
Ted didn’t seem at all concerned about it. His baggy trunks fluttered in the wind as he checked lines and got the kayaks squared away for the night.
“Hey there,” he said. “How was it?”
“Great. Really great,” Kenzie replied as Linc maneuvered the kayak against the dock. Ted bent over to grab the nylon loop attached to the prow and held it while they both clambered out.
Linc reached for the drypack, then handed it to Kenzie while he helped Ted drag the kayak up onto the dock. She took out his wallet and hers, and watched them at it.
It only took a couple of minutes to secure the lightweight craft with the others. Ted walked back with them the short distance to the boathouse.
“Hang on,” he said. “Just want to give you guys a flyer about our weekend deals.”
They went with him into the area set aside for customers and waited. Ted looked through brochures and papers and found what he was searching for. He handed the flyer to Linc. “Here ya go, dude. Starts this Friday.”
“Thanks,” Linc said, looking it over.
“Unless ...” Ted’s attention was distracted by a small TV tuned to a weather channel. The announcer was saying something about a big storm system headed their way. She predicted three days of rain, heavy at times.
“Yikes,” Ted said. “That changes everything. We might have to shut down.”
“How bad can it be?” Kenzie wanted to know.
Ted gestured toward the calm river. “The opposite of that.”
“Oh well,” Linc said. “There’s always another weekend. Thanks, man. We’ll be back.”
They drove far into Virginia instead of heading back to Ridgewood. Kenzie dozed off for a while, pleasantly tired from the day in the fresh air, waking to see that they were on a two-lane road with a solid yellow stripe down the middle.
It didn’t seem to matter. There wasn’t anyone else who might want to pass them. Bare-limbed trees arched over the road, visible only for the brief time they appeared in the headlights. There wasn’t a house in sight either. She felt almost as if they were traveling back in time.
“Where are we going?” Kenzie asked, yawning.
Linc turned and flashed a smile. “A country inn. An old one. It has a fireplace this car would fit into.”
“Sounds cozy.”
“You look like you need some warming up. I’ve been meaning to ask you out for a nice dinner.”
Kenzie looked down at the clothes she’d changed back into. “How nice?”
“Don’t worry. It’s low-key, but the food is excellent., especially the seafood.”
“Are we near the Chesapeake?”
“Between the Bay and the Blue Ridge. That’s all I’m going to say.”
“You are a sneak,” she complained. “But I’m starving. So you’re forgiven. You still haven’t told me the name of the place.”
He grinned. “I know where it is. Isn’t that enough?”
“What’s the big secret?”
He pretended not to hear her. “The inn dates from Colonial times, if you really want to know.”
Kenzie reached out and messed up his hair. “Aha. I understand they didn’t have combs then.”
Linc laughed, not bothering to smooth it back down, and turned into a wide driveway that crunched loudly under the wheels of his car.
“Hear that? Oyster shells. This place is authentic.”
Kenzie peered into the darkness outside the car window. The old inn’s carriage lamps, hung on iron bars, didn’t provide much illumination. She realized with a start that the small parking lot was crowded with late-model expensive cars.
The inn was a white saltbox under a low roof, with additions to either side. Diamond-paned windows glowed warm and welcoming on either side of a heavy carved door.
An older man, impeccably dressed, escorted his beautifully coiffed companion down the front stairs. Her conservative high heels barely showed under her long coat. Kenzie caught the glitter of diamonds against a fur collar. This was definitely not Ye Olde Crabbe Shacke.
“Linc—”
She turned to him, but he was already out of the car and coming around to her side to open her door.
“Welcome to the Greenwood Inn,” he said, offering her his hand.
Kenzie finally saw the oval sign above the front door. The Greenwood Inn only looked unpretentious. The inn’s long-standing reputation for intimate dinners and excellent American cuisine attracted the elite of DC and the wealthy of Maryland and Virginia.
“I am so not dressed for this!” she hissed at him.
“Don’t worry about it,” he insisted. “They serve by candlelight.”
Kenzie groaned under her breath. She searched in her bag for a pair of flats and changed out of her sneakers. That was about as posh as she could get. Fortunately, her clothes were dark.
She found a comb and tossed it at him. Linc didn’t seem to care in the least what he was wearing. If he had the nerve to walk in to the one and only Greenwood, she would too. Besides, she really was starving.
The maitre d’ welcomed them with smooth aplomb, not looking at t
heir clothes. It wasn’t as if Linc knew him or anyone else there. It was just that the place was too discreet to notice minor indiscretions.
Kenzie peeked into the main dining room while the maitre d’ looked over the seating chart. Linc was right about the candles. Waiters came and went quietly over wide-planked, shining floors, serving the customers in near silence. She could swear she saw a senator or two. There were other faces she recognized, people who weren’t exactly celebrities, but who were definitely powerful or renowned in some other way.
“Could we have a table in there?” she asked, pointing to a smaller room that seemed to be a bar, though with a few tables set for dinner. A cheerful fire blazed inside a vast fireplace, brightening stones blackened with age.
“Of course,” the maitre d’ said after a confirming look at Linc, who nodded. “Please follow me.”
Kenzie slid into a chair, hiding her jeans-clad legs immediately under the white damask cloth. Linc sat down next, smiling at her. “You look gorgeous,” he said softly.
“Thanks.” Her irritation vanished, replaced by interest in her surroundings. Massive beams overhead and the warmth of wood everywhere made the room cozy but not stifling. The Greenwood Inn really was authentic, right down to the draft from the old windows.
Linc was examining a wine list as if he did it all the time. She wasn’t familiar with the vintage he eventually ordered from a sommelier, but the man seemed to respect his choice and withdrew, taking the list.
Linc began to study the menu. “Are you hungry enough for an appetizer?”
“Sure. You pick. I’m heading for the powder room.”
When she returned, there were two wineglasses on the table and the business with the cork and first taste seemed to be over with. Kenzie sat down and sipped from the glass poured for her. The white wine was delicate, almost tingly.
“Nice,” she said, pleased.
“Glad you like it.”
A waiter appeared with a cut-crystal bowl of crushed ice topped with six tiny oysters and thin slices of lemon. He set it in the middle of the table.
Kenzie looked at them nervously. The presentation was dazzling, but ... the oysters were raw.
