Page 12 of Way of the Wolf

After waiting a few more minutes, I wondered if Duncan had gotten lost or decided I wasn’t worth the effort. The latter seemed unlikely since he’d been so persistent about asking me to dinner. For reasons known only to him. I was attractive enough that persistent men weren’t puzzling, but such attention wasn’t as frequent as it had been twenty years earlier.

Minutes passed, and the van didn’t show. I watched a couple enter the front door and debated if I wanted to pay for takeout if Duncan didn’t arrive. Back home, I had leftovers that I could eat.

The door opened again, and the smells of grilled chicken and beef wafted out. My stomach rumbled, answering the debate for me.

When I got out of my truck, I spotted Duncan’s van. It wasparked across the street and halfway down a side road leading to the lake. And was that Duncan out on a dock by those condos? Half-shrouded by the fog creeping in from the water?

I rolled my eyes, wishing I’d asked for his number so I could text him to get his ass over here. Maybe he’d thought I would spend an hour putting on makeup. As if I was going to dress to the nines for dinner with a strange werewolf at a teriyaki joint.

During a lull in traffic, I jogged across busy Bothell Way. His back to me, Duncan heaved something on a rope out into the lake. The giant magnet he’d spoken of? Maybe that hadn’t been a euphemism. Or notonlya euphemism.

Whistling cheerfully, he reeled the rope in hand-over-hand.

I walked out on the dock, and he grinned over his shoulder at me, as if he’d known where I was all along.

“I’ve got a big one,” he called.

That prompted me to roll my eyes again. “Is this how you’re planning to pay for dinner?”

“You never know.” Duncan leaned over the railing, whatever he’d caught right below him now. Something heavy made his muscles flex under his jacket as he pulled it up.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to fish coins out of a fountain?”

“Oh, it’s rarely coins you find, especially in this country, where none of the currency is magnetic.” Duncan tugged a large metal frame covered in seaweed, rust, and slime out of the water. It was attached to a cylindrical magnet several inches thick.

“Is that a bicycle?”

“Looks like it is. Not much value there, alas. I’ve found lockboxes before with jewelry and silver coins inside.”

“I imagine it’s exceedingly common for people to hurl their valuables into lakes.”

“Well, it happens. Sometimes, there are wrecked ships full of goodies. This lake connects with Puget Sound and eventually the Pacific Ocean, doesn’t it?”

“Through the ship canal, yeah, but I’m not aware of a lot of sea battles that took place in Lake Washington during the various wars.”

“More than battles can wreck a ship.” Duncan laid the bike frame on the dock and pulled with both hands to detach it from his magnet—that thing had a seriously strong pull. Other smaller items clung to it as well. He tugged off a fork and held it aloft, as if it were a great prize.

“That’s not going to pay for dinner.”

“You don’t think this missing cutlery may have belonged to your restaurant? They could be eager to have it returned.”

“The cutlery there is plastic.”

“So it’s a fine-dining establishment.”

“Yup, just as my fancy tastes require.”

Duncan pulled off a couple of rusty nails and tossed them into a garbage can ten feet away. He had good aim.

“Ah!” He slipped what might have been a coin into his pocket. It was so covered in grime that it was hard to tell.

“That one was metallic?”

“A Dutch guilder. Pre-euro era. They are metallic, yes. Your lake must have had a European visitor.” Duncan hefted the magnet out into the lake again, the splash muffled by the fog.

“Seattle is a world-class city that attracts tourists.” I was less certain about the suburb of Kenmore.

“I call this the drag-and-drop method.” Duncan walked along the dock railing back toward shore, pulling the rope attached to his magnet behind him. “People drop stuff from boardwalks and piers all the time.”

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