It was a perfect chance to get lost, with the crowd busily debating the Bright incident and ogling the arriving den reps. Decision made, I moseyed toward the mudroom as everyone else pushed toward the Mess. I’d miss breakfast, lunch, and the meeting, and that was too bad, but they could do without me. Someone should find out if Daniel was okay, right? Kept telling myself, like I told Rube: I’d feel the same if it was him suddenly gone AWOL. It almost worked.

I bought a stale granola bar at the swap counter, then filled my water bottle at the mudroom tank, hitched it to a shoulder strap borrowed from a stray cubby. Soon I was down at the deserted boat launch, looking over the possibilities. I chose Rivera’s kayak, for speed and portability. Didn’t know if I could handle a kayak, but I’d watched her do it, and the kayak hadn’t been taking on water like the rowboat or the canoes. Plus, it was hull-up on the float with its paddle tucked underneath, like it was waiting to be stolen . . . or just borrowed for a time. I set it in the water, climbed in gingerly, and didn’t capsize.

“So far, so good,” I murmured, pushing off from the dock.

TWENTY-THREE

I glided into the open water of the Lagoon. The only sentry left topside shot me a friendly wave. Had to worry about Unca Joe’s security, unless my rep as one of the ‘boat girls’ gave me some sort of special permission. But I was glad she’d seen me. If I didn’t make it back, she’d have some clue where I’d gone.

I was way out of line, stealing a boat and going AWOL, but I couldn’t not. Like someone else was hijacking my decision-making. Some Glimmer I didn’t quite recognize.

The rain had let up, leaving behind a dull wet gleam. I circled the kayak till I had the knack of it, then turned my nose uptown. If I stayed east and went up Second, I’d have water most of the way to 59th, the faster choice even with the long walk crosstown.

With the tide heading in, the kayak moved along with little effort. Way faster than walking but twice as vulnerable, so I snugged in alongside the buildings for cover, scanning the rooftops and broken windows for the glint of a gun barrel. Not much traffic, just a few small boats headed downtown, played-out motors straining against the current, but nobody gave me the eye. When I ran out of paddle depth, I slung my water bottle across my back and stashed the kayak inside a burned-out storefront. It needed to be there long enough for me to return it to Unca Joe.