“Yes,” I say, emotionless, looking ahead.
“Don’t be like that, Penn,” Dex says. He reaches into the pocket of his pants and pulls out a small white envelope. “Take it,” he says. “It’s a surprise. For you.”
I bite my lip as I turn the envelope over in my hand, lifting the flap reluctantly. I pull out two pieces of cardstock. Tickets. I squint, and see the words Frank Sinatra printed on the front. I smile. “Really, Dex?”
“I know how you’ve always wanted to see him in concert,” he says, kneeling beside me. “I thought we could go together. He’s coming next week, to the Fifth Avenue Theatre.”
I’m crying now, and he’s smiling because he thinks they’re tears of happiness. But they’re not. These tickets are not a gift. I know that. They’re a consolation prize.
He kisses my forehead and walks back inside to gather his things before closing the door softly behind him and heading back to his private world away from me.
The cinnamon rolls sit untouched on the counter.
Chapter 12
ADA
So,” Joanie says, the next day on the phone. “How’s life on the lake?”
I think of Jim and what he told me about Penny yesterday. He didn’t give me any particulars, but I sensed the sadness associated with the subject. I decide that I won’t ask him what happened. Her memory is very personal to him; I can tell.
“I’m making my way,” I say. “But there’s something I’m trying to figure out.”
“Oh?”
Joanie works in human resources for the NYPD, and she can find anything out about anyone, a skill that has come in handy over the years. On behalf of a reporter friend, I once asked for her help digging up some dirt about the shady owner of an art gallery in Brooklyn, and her sleuthing led to the discovery of a stolen Picasso in the basement a month later. Joanie and I took Ella to see the painting hanging in the Met the next month, and we both felt a wonderful sense of justice seeing the result of our teamwork.
“Well,” I say, “I found something in the houseboat.”
“What?”
“There’s this old chest. It was locked, but I found a key, and I—”
“Discovered a chest full of gold coins?”
“Not quite,” I say, smiling. “But it’s kind of fascinating in and of itself.” I tell her about the hospital bracelet, the photos, the book, the wedding dress and other relics.
“Kind of creepy,” she says.
“There’s more,” I continue. “This woman, who I assume the items belong to, well, she disappeared years ago. No one here will talk about what happened to her. And I can’t figure out if it’s because they don’t know, or they don’t want to tell.”
“So you want me to do a little digging. What was her name?”
“Penny. Penny Wentworth.”
“OK,” Joanie says. “I’ll see what I can do. Check your e-mail a little later. I’ll send what I can find on my lunch hour.”
I set the phone down and step outside when I hear commotion on the dock. A splash in the water. Footsteps. Someone shouting. Jim’s standing at the edge of the dock, rubbing his forehead.
“Is everything all right?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “She came home, and then she left again. Just like that.”
I see Haines by his side, and I realize he’s talking about the duck.
“Henrietta?”
Jim nods gravely.
“Oh no.”
“These two,” he says, looking down at the stoic mallard. “They need a marriage counselor.”
I grin, just as Alex appears on his deck. I wave.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hey, happy birthday,” Jim says.
“Thanks.”
“Happy birthday,” I say quickly. “What are you doing to celebrate?”
“Absolutely nothing,” he replies, looking to the north lake. “I may paddle up to Gas Works later.”
“Oh, the park?” I’ve been fascinated by the green grassy hill since the morning after I arrived. Its rusted-out industrial remains of old Seattle look almost sculptural in the distance.
“Yeah,” he says, adjusting his sunglasses. “You could join me—I mean, if you’re not doing anything.”
I sense Jim’s eyes on me. I know he’s smiling, but I don’t make eye contact.
“That would be nice,” I say.
“Jim,” Alex says politely, “care to join?”
“Nah. You two go ahead.” He’s still smiling.
“I’ll go grab my sweater,” I say.
Alex paddles over in front of my houseboat a moment later, and I climb into the back of the kayak. “Here,” he says, handing me a paddle. “I brought some sandwiches.” He gestures toward the middle section of the kayak.