My cheeks flush suddenly when I think of where I am. In Seattle. Off to a picnic with a man I’ve just met days ago.
“So, how old are you today?” I ask.
“Thirty-seven.”
“An old man.”
“I know.” Our paddles touch for a moment. It’s the nautical equivalent of stepping on someone’s foot on the dance floor. “Sorry,” we both say in unison.
I realize how rusty I am at all of this, and maybe he is too. I think of his ex. Kellie. And I think of James. Their memories hover in the kayak with us, like ghosts.
We make it across the lake and tie the kayak to a dock that leads into the park. Alex steps out first and offers me his hand. He collects the bag of food and a blanket, and we climb up the grassy hill dotted with tiny white flowers. It’s sunny, and there’s a light breeze. Four children are flying kites along the hillside.
“How’s this?” he asks when we reach a place where the roundness levels. I can see the dock in the distance, my little houseboat perched at the tip.
“Perfect,” I say, peeling off my sweater. Despite the breeze, the sun is warm, and I’ve worked up a sweat.
Alex lays out the blanket, and we both sit down. He offers me a turkey sandwich and opens a plastic container of sliced apples and strawberries.
“I haven’t been on a picnic in a really long time,” I say. “Not since—”
“Since before the accident?” Alex isn’t intimidated by my past; I can tell. It’s rare, actually. The few times I’ve talked to men about what happened, they’ve clammed up, changed the subject.
I nod.
“Well,” he says, “I’m glad I could reintroduce you to the joys of picnicking.”
I smile and take a bite of my sandwich. “You actually made these?”
“No,” he says. “Picked them up this morning at Pete’s.”
I grin, looking out at the Space Needle in the distance.
He follows my gaze. “I’d love to take you there,” he says. “You haven’t lived until you’ve had an ice cream sundae on top of the Needle.”
“Oh, is that right?”
He finishes his sandwich, then rolls to his side, propping himself up on his elbow. “They call it the Lunar Orbiter,” he says. “Ice cream on top of a bed of dry ice, drizzled with loads of chocolate sauce.”
“OK,” I say. “You had me at chocolate sauce.”
“It’s the only item on the original Space Needle menu from the 1962 World’s Fair.”
“I’ve always wanted to see the Space Needle,” I say. “My dad went to the World’s Fair as a kid. He still talks about the Space Needle like it’s the Eiffel Tower.
“Hey,” I say, setting my sandwich down. “I asked my sister-in-law to see what she can dig up about our little unsolved mystery.”
Alex looks up. “You did?”
“She works for the NYPD. She can find out anything about anyone.”
He nods. “They’re all good people in their own ways, truly. But I’ve long suspected that the residents of Boat Street are practiced in the art of concealment.” He takes a drink from his water bottle, then turns back to me. “After you left yesterday, I remembered something.”
“What?”
“Tom, who lived on Boat Street and knew Penny, took me into his confidence the month before he died. He said they’d all been in on a ‘pact.’”
“A pact?”
He nods. “I didn’t think much of it at the time,” he continues. “Tom wasn’t in good health at the end but spoke as if he wanted to get something off his chest. Before I could ask him anything further, his nurse interrupted us. I never did get a chance to learn what he meant by that. I can only assume it had something to do with Penny.”
I think of the others on the dock. Most are relative newcomers, having arrived during the past fifteen years. And at least two houseboats have been empty for some time, only rented out occasionally. Then I think of Jim’s parents. “What about Naomi and Gene?”
“It’s a touchy subject,” he says. “Jim’s awfully protective of them. None of them like to discuss the past, so I don’t.”
“Well,” I say, “we’ll see what Joanie comes back with.”
Alex shrugs. “If there was any foul play, it would have come out.”
“But it was the fifties, don’t forget,” I add. “They didn’t have DNA testing or computers or any sophisticated crime analysis.”
Alex nods. “I’ve thought a lot about Penny over the years, and I have to say, your discovery of the chest makes this all a little more eerie.”