In Sheep's Clothing by Rett MacPherson Page A

one.”
    â€œI know, but she’s the only one who told me her story in her voice.”
    â€œI understand,” Rudy said. He took a big deep breath and sighed. “I think I smell breakfast. And I think I hear the fish calling my name.”
    â€œYeah,” I said. “Hey, you and Colin won’t care if I tag along today, right?”
    â€œNo, I don’t care,” Rudy said.
    I turned around to find Colin standing in the doorway. “So, you’re fishing with us today?” he asked.
    â€œLooks like it.”
    â€œHope you can swim. Because I’m terrible about tipping the boat over.”
    â€œHa, ha, ha,” I said.
    Colin smiled, but there was something in his eyes that wasn’t humor.
    â€œWhat’s the matter?” I asked. He said nothing. “Were you listening to our conversation?”
    He blushed and shrugged his shoulders. “I was coming to get Rudy for breakfast … I couldn’t help but hear it.”
    â€œHow long did you stand there? You could have said something,” I said.
    â€œI wanted to hear how the story ended,” he said. But his eyes were communicating more than that. He had been there last night. When I saw the wolf. I wondered at that moment if he had actually seen the wolf, too.
    â€œI’m starving,” I said.
    â€œOh, your aunt made pork chops for breakfast,” he said. “The woman is my hero.”
    â€œIf I had known that all it would take was breakfast chops to make you respect me, I would have made them for you a long time ago,” I said.
    â€œYeah, but you can’t cook,” Colin said.
    â€œI can so! Rudy, you had better come to my defense or you will be sorry,” I said.
    â€œShe makes wonderful cereal,” Rudy said. “The best in two counties.”

Eleven
    Olin Lake was beautiful in the morning light. The sunlight looked like little golden flakes of glitter floating on top of the water. The Olin Marina was a nice establishment, with scores and scores of boats docked out in front of it. Off to the left was a sign advertising the rental boats. Probably another ten or so boats, all uniform in design, were resting there. Rudy pulled the truck into the parking lot and we got out and walked into the marina.
    â€œSo these boats over here, do they belong to the locals?” I asked Rudy.
    â€œAs far as I can tell, all of those boats belong to people who don’t have lakefront property and want to keep their boats in the water.”
    â€œHow big is this lake?” I asked as I shielded my eyes from the sun and looked out across water that had no end.
    â€œIt’s about twice as big as White Bear Lake,” Colin said.
    â€œAnd how big is that?”
    â€œI don’t know,” Colin said. “Big.”
    The marina had a restaurant and rest rooms inside, along with a bait shop that sported rods and reels, battery-operated socks, you name it. You could even get your fishing license here. The man behind the counter was just a kid, really. He was maybe eighteen or nineteen. He smiled as soon as he saw Rudy and Colin. “Hello, gentlemen,” he said. “Your boat’s waiting for you.”
    I looked at Rudy.
    â€œWe rented a boat for the whole week.”
    â€œI thought you guys were going to try out a few of the lakes.”
    â€œWe liked this one so much, we decided not to mess with it,” Colin said.
    â€œOh,” I said.
    â€œThis is my wife, Torie,” Rudy said. “She’s coming out with us today.”
    The kid nodded and waved.
    â€œUm, I was wondering … Are you a Bloomquist? Are you the owner?” I asked.
    â€œNo,” he said. “I just work here. Saving up for college.”
    â€œI see,” I said. “Is Mr. Bloomquist in?”
    â€œBrian? No, he won’t be in until about noon,” he said.
    â€œThank you,” I said. I turned to Rudy. “You guys can bring me back around