“No, he means Red. Yes, he’ll be there. And do stop antagonizing him. I think you’d actually get along if—”

“As I just said. I’m not interested in making friends.” He faced them again, his face hard. And then he stepped out of their way. “Thanks for the invitation, but no thanks. The role of fifth wheel has never suited me.”

“Cam—”

“I have tomorrow off, though. I could do with a game of chess, if you’ve the time.”

Drake’s face shifted from determined to satisfied. “Whenever you’d like. I’ll be at home.”

Camden spared a nod for Drake, another for her, and then strode off as if he were going somewhere of the utmost importance.

They both watched him go. Margot shook her head. “Has he always been so . . . ?”

“No. Not quite. Always gruff, always a troublemaker, but never with those shadows.”

“Has he told you what happened?” Thus far it was an unsolved x in the equation that was Phillip Camden.

Drake shook his head. “Perhaps he will tomorrow. But I doubt it. I don’t think he’s ready for that. Sharing it with someone would mean letting go of it a little, and he’s holding it tight. It may help him just to be with someone he knows won’t judge. Won’t ask.”

A breath of laughter slipped out. “You? Won’t ask? I rather thought that your specialty.”

The way he grinned down at her made her wonder if the observation somehow equaled encouragement in his mind. That they were growing familiar enough to tease each other, perhaps. “Part of the art of asking a good question is knowing what not to ask, you know.”

Like not asking her if he could court her, perhaps? She turned her attention straight ahead. If he’d reasoned it out like that, then it was frankly a tally mark in his favor. “Could we take a turn through the park, if you’ve energy enough?”

“So eager for a few extra minutes with me?”

Teasing or flirting? Either way, she met it with narrowed eyes but the beginnings of a smile. “Don’t flatter yourself. I want to see if Williams is there or has made another play at Go. He hasn’t had the board set up for days.”

“I have no idea who and what that is.”

She explained briefly as they walked—the new face, the game they’d played the day Holmes and Dot were reacquainted, how since then he’d been playing her via notes, the board left out waiting for her. She’d been meaning to come by the park earlier in the day to try to catch him and not just his note, but time and short hours of daylight hadn’t cooperated.