Split Second (Sean King & Michelle Maxwell 1)

After he left, the three had a quick dinner out on the rear deck. Joan told them about her check on Doug Denby.

“So he’s out of the loop,” said Michelle.

“Apparently.”

King looked puzzled. “So according to the woman you spoke with at the law firm in Philly, Bruno didn’t cheat when he was a U.S. attorney in D.C.?”

“If we can believe her. I tend to think she was telling the truth.”

“So maybe Mildred was feeding us a pack of lies about Bruno.”

“Now, that I can believe,” commented Joan. She glanced inside to where the box Parks had left was sitting on the table. “We’ll have to go through the files Parks brought.”

“I can start on it,” said Michelle. “Since I didn’t know him, I might not skim over stuff that the two of you might.” She excused herself and went inside.

Joan looked out over the water. “It is really beautiful here, Sean. You picked a nice spot to start fresh.”

King finished his beer and sat back. “Well, I might have to pick another spot.”

Joan glanced over at him. “Let’s hope not. A person shouldn’t have to re-create himself more than once in a lifetime.”

“How about you? You said you wanted out.”

“To go to some island with my millions?” She smiled in a resigned way. “Dreams more often than not don’t come true. Particularly at my stage of life.”

“But if you find Bruno, you get the big payoff.”

“The money was only part of the dream.”

When King shot her a glance, she quickly looked away.

“Do you sail much?” she asked.

“In the fall when the powerboats are gone and the winds pick up.”

“Well, it is the fall. So maybe now would be a good time.”

King looked at the clear sky and felt the nice breeze against his skin. They had a couple hours of daylight left. He stared at Joan intently for a few moments. “Yeah, now would be a good time.”

King showed Joan how to manage the sailboat’s tiller. He’d attached a five-horsepower motor on the stern just in case the wind died down. They steered a course out into the main channel and then drifted.

Joan admired the spread of mountains encircling the lake, the green still vibrant, although the nip of fall was clearly in the air.

“Did you ever think you’d end up in a place like this after all those years of hotels and airplanes and pushing till dawn?” she asked.

King shrugged. “To tell the truth, no. I never thought that far ahead. I was always more of a live-in-the-present sort of person.” He added thoughtfully, “I’m more of a long-range thinker now.”

“And where do your long-range thoughts lead you?”

“Nowhere until this mystery is cleared up. The problem is, even if we solve this thing, the damage has been done. I really might have to move from here.”

“Running away? That doesn’t sound like you, Sean.”

“Sometimes it’s just best to strike the tent poles and move on. You sort of get tired of fighting, Joan.”

He sat next to her and took over the tiller. “Wind’s changing. I’m going to tack back into it. The boom’s going to come across. I’ll tell you when to duck.”

After he completed this maneuver, he let her take the tiller back, but he stayed next to her. She wore a pantsuit but had taken off her shoes and rolled her pant legs over her knees. Her feet were small and her toenails were painted red.