after lunch?”
“Rise above the hunger. I once went ten days without eating a thing.”
“Good for you. Me, I’m hypoglycemic. If I don’t eat every three hours I get irritable. You wouldn’t like me when I’m irritable.”
“I like you fine.”
“I’m not irritable yet.”
“You’re not?” Emerson said with surprise.
“Very funny.”
“I wasn’t trying to be funny,” Emerson said, examining the gold bar. He held it up for her to see. “What do you think? Real or fake?”
“I think she took the real one from the safe.”
“Then this is it,” he said, tapping the gold bar with his finger.
“What do you mean?”
“I switched them.”
“But we were looking at them the whole time.”
“I did it all the same.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“It doesn’t matter whether or not you believe it,” Emerson said. “It is so.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter whether or not you say it’s so. It didn’t happen.”
“Why would I lie about such a thing?”
“Why, indeed.”
His mouth curved into a sly smile for a millisecond.
“And what’s that?” Riley asked.
“What’s what?”
“The smile.”
“I find you amusing.”
Two advanced degrees from Harvard and I’ve got a job amusing a man who steals gold bars, Riley thought.
“The advanced degrees were a waste of time,” Emerson said. “You didn’t need them.”
“How did you know I was thinking about my degrees?”
“It was obvious.”
“You’re a little scary,” Riley said.
“You’re not the first person to express that opinion.”
The front door to Maxine’s townhouse opened, Maxine stepped out, and closed and locked the door behind her. She was still dressed in her workout clothes, wearing Oakley sunglasses and carrying a medium-sized duffel bag. She walked down the sidewalk to a gray Nissan Maxima parked close to the corner, slung her gear in the back, got in, and pulled out.
“Follow that car,” Emerson said.
Riley pulled out, hoping Maxine was going somewhere for lunch. She knew that “irritable” was just around the corner. She kept a car between her and Maxine, just in case Maxine looked in her mirror. At least the muscle car Riley was driving was a conservative highland green, not flaming red. Still, a classic Mustang Fastback wasn’t the most inconspicuous car on the road.
Maxine turned right on K Street just as the light was changing. Riley had to choose between speeding through the red light and stopping. She stopped. Her father, the sheriff, would have been pleased.
“What do I do now?” she asked Emerson.
“About what?”
“I lost her.”
“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
“Rise above the hunger. I once went ten days without eating a thing.”
“Good for you. Me, I’m hypoglycemic. If I don’t eat every three hours I get irritable. You wouldn’t like me when I’m irritable.”
“I like you fine.”
“I’m not irritable yet.”
“You’re not?” Emerson said with surprise.
“Very funny.”
“I wasn’t trying to be funny,” Emerson said, examining the gold bar. He held it up for her to see. “What do you think? Real or fake?”
“I think she took the real one from the safe.”
“Then this is it,” he said, tapping the gold bar with his finger.
“What do you mean?”
“I switched them.”
“But we were looking at them the whole time.”
“I did it all the same.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“It doesn’t matter whether or not you believe it,” Emerson said. “It is so.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter whether or not you say it’s so. It didn’t happen.”
“Why would I lie about such a thing?”
“Why, indeed.”
His mouth curved into a sly smile for a millisecond.
“And what’s that?” Riley asked.
“What’s what?”
“The smile.”
“I find you amusing.”
Two advanced degrees from Harvard and I’ve got a job amusing a man who steals gold bars, Riley thought.
“The advanced degrees were a waste of time,” Emerson said. “You didn’t need them.”
“How did you know I was thinking about my degrees?”
“It was obvious.”
“You’re a little scary,” Riley said.
“You’re not the first person to express that opinion.”
The front door to Maxine’s townhouse opened, Maxine stepped out, and closed and locked the door behind her. She was still dressed in her workout clothes, wearing Oakley sunglasses and carrying a medium-sized duffel bag. She walked down the sidewalk to a gray Nissan Maxima parked close to the corner, slung her gear in the back, got in, and pulled out.
“Follow that car,” Emerson said.
Riley pulled out, hoping Maxine was going somewhere for lunch. She knew that “irritable” was just around the corner. She kept a car between her and Maxine, just in case Maxine looked in her mirror. At least the muscle car Riley was driving was a conservative highland green, not flaming red. Still, a classic Mustang Fastback wasn’t the most inconspicuous car on the road.
Maxine turned right on K Street just as the light was changing. Riley had to choose between speeding through the red light and stopping. She stopped. Her father, the sheriff, would have been pleased.
“What do I do now?” she asked Emerson.
“About what?”
“I lost her.”
“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
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