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“Figure out where she’s going.”
“Well, down K Street. Across the Key Bridge.”
“She was wearing an immersion jacket.”
“And?”
“She was expecting to get wet,” Emerson said.
“Car wash?”
“That’s a joke, correct?”
“Criminy!” Riley said. “You are so annoying.”
“Yes, but a woman once told me I have excellent eyelashes. Have you noticed?”
Riley had been ready to take a right onto Key Bridge, but she followed a hunch at the last moment and turned left onto Canal Road and drove along the river, past Georgetown University. Soon the city dwindled away. Trees on her right, the C&O Canal on her left. They could have been out in the country.
She’d been driving for a few minutes when she caught a glimpse of Maxine’s Nissan just as it veered off to the left. She maneuvered over to the left lane and took a turnoff by a sign reading FLETCHER’S COVE. Passing a white stone house that looked like it had been old during the Civil War, Riley spotted the Nissan driving down a little road into an old, dark, narrow tunnel carved underneath the canal. She turned to follow.
“This car’s pretty wide,” she said. “Do you think we’ll fit through there?”
“Only one way to find out,” Emerson said.
As she drove into the tunnel she found herself inhaling, as if making her rib cage thinner would help her fit between the ancient stone walls of the passageway. They made it through to the other side and Riley exhaled in relief.
The Nissan pulled off the road and parked in a small lot next to a ramshackle boathouse. Beyond the boathouse, the banks of the Potomac looked wild and untamed.
“Hard to believe we’re a scarce ten minutes from Georgetown,” Riley said, idling just short of the lot entrance.
Maxine got out of her Nissan, collected her duffel bag from the backseat, and walked over to the service window of the boathouse. Rental kayaks were stacked next to the building, and a number of red rowboats could be seen bobbing offshore, the occupants fishing for shad and catfish.
It reminded Riley of fishing spots her dad used to take her to on the Brazos River. She took a deep calming breath of country air with only a whiff of exhaust fumes in it and sighed. So near and yet so far.
Maxine concluded her business at the boathouse and took the path that led through the woods to the dock. The instant she was out of sight Riley pulled into the lot and parked. Emerson was immediately out of the car, following Maxine, with Riley scrambling to keep up.
“Did you know where Maxine was going?” Riley asked Emerson.
“Of course.”
“Mental telepathy?”
“Bumper sticker,” Emerson said, passing by Maxine’s car, pointing to her bumper sticker reading I’D RATHER BE FISHING AT FLETCHER’S COVE.
“That is so cheating,” Riley said.
They followed the path to the dock, pausing at the sound of men’s voices, and Emerson motioned for Riley to follow him into the woods where they’d be lost in deep shadow. They crept closer to the voices, and saw that Maxine stood on the jetty, arms out. A man in a dark suit patted her down, and another man in an equally dark suit looked on, with no visible ex
pression on his face.
When they were done with her, Maxine climbed down into a small canoe. One of the dark suits handed over her duffel bag and pointed downstream. Setting the bag on her lap, she adjusted her sunglasses and paddled off, driving through the water with determined speed.
“Interesting,” Emerson said, moving back onto the path, power walking to the boathouse. “We need to rent a boat and follow her.”
“All we got left are two-person kayaks,” the attendant told Emerson.
Emerson looked at Riley. “Do you know how to kayak?”
