Drake frowned at the entrance of the park. “And that doesn’t strike you as odd? Someone playing a game like that? Why not just sit there and wait for you?”

“Well, the weather’s gotten colder, and he doesn’t seem quite healthy. Given that I’m rarely there in the warmest part of the day, I suppose he simply sets it up then and comes back to check my move the next day.”

“Isn’t that a bit careless? Who’s to say someone won’t just pinch the board?”

“I certainly thought of that.” But she could only shrug. “He lives nearby. Perhaps he keeps an eye on it.”

They turned in, and his eyes began to scan everything in sight in a way that wasn’t exactly casual. “This Williams bloke—what do you know of him?”

She tugged him down the correct path. “What Holmes discovered for me. He was part of the diplomatic retinue to Japan until war broke out. Returned home, joined the navy. Was on a minesweeper that sank in August. Discharged.” She decided to leave off the bit about him not being quite mentally stable. Drake looked dubious enough as it was.

She stopped at the wrought-iron table, smiling to see the board there again. No white note fluttered this time, but that was all right. She stepped up and studied the stones’ arrangement, withdrawing her hand from Drake’s arm so she could fold her arms over her middle while she considered.

Drake only glanced for a second at the game before moving a step away. He stared at a tree a few dozen paces off, his fingers twitching.

And why was she considering him instead of her next move? “Is everything all right?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right. How do you know this chap can be trusted?”

“Drake. It’s just a game, in a public park. What harm could there possibly be?”

He still stared at the tree, as if expecting something other than a squirrel to jump out from behind it. “That’s the question, isn’t it? And I don’t have the answer.” He pivoted back to face her, his smile a bit forced but no less warm for it. “Perhaps you could teach me how to play. If you’d rather actually finish a game this century.”

She made a show of thinking about it, tapping a finger on her arm. “I don’t know. It’s a complicated game. You might not have the capacity.”

As she’d expected, he laughed in outrage—and made a playful lunge for her, which she hadn’t foreseen. “Are you insulting my intelligence?”

She dodged him, her pulse picking up. Just like it always had when Lukas would chase her. But not. Not at all like that. Biting back a smile, she put the chair between them. “Well, I have no proof of your mental prowess, have I?”