When he entered the office, bright sunlight glared through the cracked-open blinds. Through watery eyes, he saw the vague shape of a person behind mounds of manila folders and white binders. "How can I help you this fine morning, sir?" Quinn said. It was spoken with forced politeness. When Gage's eyes adjusted, he saw Quinn's gentlemanly face looking up at him over the tops of thin reading glasses. In his plain white shirt and a plain blue tie, his right pocket full of pens, pencils, and other items, Quinn had the air the studious professor. A computer with two monitors sat a smaller adjacent desk; the screensaver was a bright-eyed yellow lab, the picture bouncing around the screen. "I've been thinking about that girl on the beach," Gage said. "I was afraid of that. Shut the door and take a seat." Gage took one of the two black plastic seats across from the desk, the kind designed for maximum discomfort. He rested his cane against the side of the chair, holding one hand on it so it wouldn't slip. Even after all these years, he was never quite sure what to do with the damn cane. Quinn removed his glasses and placed them on a stack of papers, then leaned back in his swivel chair. He rubbed his eyes. "I thought we agreed you were going to keep a low profile." "I'm still going to keep a low profile." "But you plan on investigating her death?" Gage shrugged. "I guess so." "You guess so? You don't sound very determined there, my friend." "My determination will depend on how much help you need." "I thought I made it pretty clear we don't need any help." "Yes, you did. I kind of like to make my own decisions, though, you see." "I looked it up, Gage. You don't even have a license in the state of Oregon, and your New York license expired three years ago." "Oh well. I sometimes forget to return library books too." They looked at each other, the silence stretching between them like a receding fishing line. The question was, which one of them was the fish? The lights on Quinn's phone flashed yellow. There was boisterous laughter in the waiting area. Outside, he heard the droning of motorboats on Big Dipper Lake.
