Relishing the warm brew, he looked back over to the spot from where he had come. In the distance, he could still make out the overturned white hull of the small boat. The area beside it, where minutes earlier the water had thrashed and churned from the man’s desperate struggle, was now still.

The man’s fishing jacket and gray hat were nowhere to be seen.

Forbes lifted the cup to his mouth for another sip of tea.

32 - Seattle, Washington

32

Seattle, Washington

Kilburn pulled up to a parking meter in front of Lopez’s office building. Realizing he had only Canadian currency on him, he was pleasantly surprised to discover that the meter graciously accepted his foreign quarters. He ran up the stairs two at a time to the eleventh floor. Panting more heavily than expected as he reached the last step, he vowed to return to the gym. He stepped out through the fire door and into the CDC regional office that occupied the entire floor.

An eager young receptionist with her hair pulled back and dressed in a power suit (that had the likely unintentional effect of making her look even younger), led Kilburn down the corridor. The door at which they stopped opened before the receptionist had a chance to knock. On first sight, Kilburn realized Louise’s prediction had proven accurate. With thick wavy black hair, huge brown eyes, upturned nose, and a flawless dark complexion, Lopez was extremely attractive. Despite black leather pumps, she still stood more than half a head shorter than him.

Lopez’s dark red lips parted in a welcoming smile, and she extended a hand to him. He caught a whiff of her pleasant jasmine scent.

“Good to meet you, Graham,” she said.

“Likewise.” He met her handshake and reciprocated her smile. He was about to step into her office when she walked past him in the opposite direction.

She turned back to look over her shoulder at him. “Hope you don’t mind, but I thought we’d go try to find Angie Fischer straight off. We can catch up in my car.”

Watching her disappear into the stairwell, Kilburn realized that it didn’t matter whether he minded or not. He hurried to follow her down the twelve flights of stairs to the parking lot below her building. She walked with a brisk gait that he suspected was born of habit rather than the urgency of finding Angie.

When they reached her black Audi convertible, he ran a hand over the vinyl roof above the passenger’s side door. “Nice car,” he said.

“My pride and joy,” she said unapologetically as she slipped into the driver’s seat, quickly pulled out of her space, and left the lot.

Kilburn stared out the window at the shops and buildings of Fifth Avenue. “I love this city,” he said.

“Guess you like rain, huh?”