clocked you with a sprinkler, how can I refuse? And, frankly, my house is a little depressing right now."
"Come on, then."
He turned. She was ready for his ground-eating pace this time and matched him stride for stride. He held open the passenger door on his rental car, and she climbed in. She wondered what she was doing driving off into the night with this unusual young man.
"Anywhere you want to go?” he asked.
She had mixed feelings about being back in Foggy Point. Without her time here with Aunt Beth she would have had no happy memories of childhood, but dropping in and out of a small community several times had not been without its own problems. The last time she left she'd promised herself it was for the last time.
"Not really. As long as it isn't my trashed studio, I'm good."
"Okay.” He pulled onto Main Street and headed for the strait. The route took them out of downtown Foggy Point and through an industrial section that included an area of docks. Foggy Point was not by any measure a major shipping port, but ships did dock; and that made this the kind of place you wouldn't want to get a flat tire in if you were alone.
Beyond the docks, the terrain changed to rocky beaches.
"You care if we stop?” Aiden asked.
"Whatever you want is fine."
"Don't ever say that to a guy,” he said, but Harriet could tell by the flatness in his voice his heart wasn't into teasing tonight.
He pulled off the road at a wide spot and got out of the car. She followed, and after she shut her door, it was completely dark. Aiden pulled a mini-Maglite from his pocket; it cast a small circle of light.
"Here, give me your hand,” he said and grabbed it in his free one. “Be careful,” he added.
Good advice, she thought, and once again wondered what she was doing walking on an isolated beach with a man she'd only met two days ago, and who was at least ten years her junior.
He led her to a large flat rock that stuck out toward the water.
"Here, put your foot up here.” He pointed the light onto a step-like flat area on the rock. He lit the next one and the next—the rock had three natural steps leading to a broad flat ledge. She sat on the ledge and scooted to her left to make room for him. In two strides, he was beside her, sitting close enough she could feel the heat of his body in sharp contrast to the cool rock.
He turned the light off. Her eyes adjusted, and in the moonlight, she could see the expanse of the Strait of Juan de Fuca in front of her.
"This is amazing,” she said.
"I've always come here when I needed to think, or to get away from everyone."
"I've never been here. I didn't even know this rock existed."
"My dad used to bring me here when I was little. It's a good spot to sit and fish. And then, later, I would ride my bike here.” He was silent for a long moment. “I just can't believe she's gone now, too,” he said. His voice sounded small and far away.
Harriet patted his arm. She wasn't good at this sort of thing. He leaned forward, elbows on knees. She was pretty sure he was crying, but his long hair concealed his face. She rubbed her hand in slow circles across the hard muscles of his back. They sat like that until he had control of his emotions again.
"Come on,” he said, and stood up. He stepped down in the dark then guided her. He took her hand and led her back to the car.
They drove in silence until he turned away from the coastline and started up an incline.
"Bertrand said the police think my mom was killed during a robbery,” he said at last.
"Is that what you think?"
"I don't know what to think. No one wants to believe their mother was killed because she got in the way of some petty criminal for a few hundred dollars. But I don't have a better answer. Face it. I missed the last three years of my mother's life."
"Don't even go there. Believe me, I've gone down that road, and there's nothing there."
Aiden turned his head to glance at her but didn't ask.
"I don't believe it was a
"Come on, then."
He turned. She was ready for his ground-eating pace this time and matched him stride for stride. He held open the passenger door on his rental car, and she climbed in. She wondered what she was doing driving off into the night with this unusual young man.
"Anywhere you want to go?” he asked.
She had mixed feelings about being back in Foggy Point. Without her time here with Aunt Beth she would have had no happy memories of childhood, but dropping in and out of a small community several times had not been without its own problems. The last time she left she'd promised herself it was for the last time.
"Not really. As long as it isn't my trashed studio, I'm good."
"Okay.” He pulled onto Main Street and headed for the strait. The route took them out of downtown Foggy Point and through an industrial section that included an area of docks. Foggy Point was not by any measure a major shipping port, but ships did dock; and that made this the kind of place you wouldn't want to get a flat tire in if you were alone.
Beyond the docks, the terrain changed to rocky beaches.
"You care if we stop?” Aiden asked.
"Whatever you want is fine."
"Don't ever say that to a guy,” he said, but Harriet could tell by the flatness in his voice his heart wasn't into teasing tonight.
He pulled off the road at a wide spot and got out of the car. She followed, and after she shut her door, it was completely dark. Aiden pulled a mini-Maglite from his pocket; it cast a small circle of light.
"Here, give me your hand,” he said and grabbed it in his free one. “Be careful,” he added.
Good advice, she thought, and once again wondered what she was doing walking on an isolated beach with a man she'd only met two days ago, and who was at least ten years her junior.
He led her to a large flat rock that stuck out toward the water.
"Here, put your foot up here.” He pointed the light onto a step-like flat area on the rock. He lit the next one and the next—the rock had three natural steps leading to a broad flat ledge. She sat on the ledge and scooted to her left to make room for him. In two strides, he was beside her, sitting close enough she could feel the heat of his body in sharp contrast to the cool rock.
He turned the light off. Her eyes adjusted, and in the moonlight, she could see the expanse of the Strait of Juan de Fuca in front of her.
"This is amazing,” she said.
"I've always come here when I needed to think, or to get away from everyone."
"I've never been here. I didn't even know this rock existed."
"My dad used to bring me here when I was little. It's a good spot to sit and fish. And then, later, I would ride my bike here.” He was silent for a long moment. “I just can't believe she's gone now, too,” he said. His voice sounded small and far away.
Harriet patted his arm. She wasn't good at this sort of thing. He leaned forward, elbows on knees. She was pretty sure he was crying, but his long hair concealed his face. She rubbed her hand in slow circles across the hard muscles of his back. They sat like that until he had control of his emotions again.
"Come on,” he said, and stood up. He stepped down in the dark then guided her. He took her hand and led her back to the car.
They drove in silence until he turned away from the coastline and started up an incline.
"Bertrand said the police think my mom was killed during a robbery,” he said at last.
"Is that what you think?"
"I don't know what to think. No one wants to believe their mother was killed because she got in the way of some petty criminal for a few hundred dollars. But I don't have a better answer. Face it. I missed the last three years of my mother's life."
"Don't even go there. Believe me, I've gone down that road, and there's nothing there."
Aiden turned his head to glance at her but didn't ask.
"I don't believe it was a
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