Harv watched his friend wade into Mission Bay and begin swimming. At this time of year, the seawater temperature near the shore would be in the high sixties, max. But if the cold shocked or bothered Nathan, it sure didn’t show.

Harv got out of the car, crossed the street, and hunkered down in the cover of a small group of palms. This position offered a clear view of where Nate would attempt to board the yacht. The hotel rooms directly behind him raised some concern, but at this early hour of the morning he doubted anyone would be up. He didn’t smell any cigarette or marijuana smoke, and  didn’t hear any late-night partiers. If a police cruiser happened to swing through, he could easily duck deeper into the landscaping.

He brought his field glasses up and spotted Nate. He’d already swum twenty yards. Pulling executive override wouldn’t have gone over well and he knew Nate would resent it, probably for the rest of his life.

He took a deep breath and tried to relax.

***

A shiver raked Nathan’s body as he began a breaststroke in order to maintain the best possible forward speed while keeping a low profile. A crawl would be faster, but not stealthy. Because he possessed a low body fat ratio, his buoyancy was more negative than most. He found he couldn’t keep his head above water and maintain a good pace, so he made three strokes per each breath of air. He felt the resistance of his pants, Sig, and Predator on his lower legs, but boarding the yacht unarmed wasn’t an option.

During the next three strokes, he tried to clear his mind of all distractions, especially the cold. Something bothered him, and it wasn’t the approaching yacht or even the knowledge of whose home they’d been in. It was something else entirely. Something important.

What is it? Think, Nathan.

Trying to understand this odd burst of intuition, Nathan reviewed how they’d gotten here. First, he rewound to Senator Kallstrom’s house. It seemed his unease began there.

What did you see? Clear your thoughts and go back.

He took a breath and began his next three breaststrokes.

Inside Kallstrom’s house, Harv went upstairs while he worked the ground floor. There hadn’t been any sign of a struggle, but that wasn’t unexpected. Duane Dalton probably agreed to turn himself over to save his family. The furniture looked normal, albeit expensive, but it didn’t reflect any sign of a struggle.

We ended up in the small study. The door was closed. We checked for booby traps.