Never Far Away by Michael Koryta

Author:Michael Koryta [Koryta, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Suspense, None
ISBN: 9780316535939
Google: 7biUzQEACAAJ
Amazon: B08BL8V732
Goodreads: 53915356
Publisher: Little, Brown and Company
Published: 2021-02-09T06:00:00+00:00

26

Dax was having coffee at Marriner’s when Leah Trenton went into motion. He was disappointed to hurry out because the coffee was excellent and he particularly liked their place mats, which were throwbacks to another era, when businesses actually advertised on such things. Evidently the approach was still useful in Maine when one offered snowplowing or tree-cutting services. Who knew? With a single place mat, Dax could have his yard excavated, his trees cut, his driveway plowed, his computer repaired, his boat stored for winter, and even take a seaplane tour. It was good to see that the internet hadn’t yet spoiled Maine’s print-advertising market. Did anyone actually call these businesses, say that they’d been reading about the company on a place mat, and ask for a quote? Perhaps he could advertise. Murder and witness-extrication services, good references, family-owned!

He was smiling over the potential of this when Leah Trenton pulled away from the curb and headed north, up Route 1 toward Belfast. Dax took his time following because he’d already installed a GPS tracker on Leah’s Jeep. No need to rush.

When he left, he took the place mat.

He found Leah Trenton in Lincolnville, just a few miles north of Camden. She was talking on her phone and pacing the sidewalk that ran along the short stretch of sandy beach. Dax parked his rented Toyota Tacoma in the lot of someplace called the Whale’s Tooth Pub and then walked to the water’s edge and pretended to have great interest in the sea. It wasn’t hard to pretend, because it was a stunning day and the wind over the water smelled clean and salty. Islands dotted the bay and far out beyond them you could see Mount Desert Island, near Acadia National Park. A beautiful place, Maine. All the same, he didn’t care for it. He’d nearly died here once, and the clean, cold smell of the North Atlantic seemed to make his arm throb.

While he pretended to take cell phone photos of brightly colored lobster buoys, he watched Leah Trenton. She hung up her own phone, walked briskly down the pier, and entered the ferry terminal. She was inside for seven minutes and emerged with what appeared to be tickets in hand.

Dax frowned. The island might make sense to Leah, but it was so utterly impractical to Dax that he struggled to envision it. He didn’t like to poison his own mind with someone else’s bad ideas. Maybe she had a friend on the island, someone she trusted. Maybe she was proud of herself for buying paper ferry tickets with cash in a place that required no personal information, just payment, as if she were boarding a train in 1950.

But still…an island? Oh, Leah. Be better than that. Be best, as Melania Trump had said. Dax smiled at that thought. Be best. You laughed or you cried, right?

He pretended to ignore her and watch a pair of absurdly expensive sailboats pass by, flying Bahamian flags. Northern cruises in the summer and head south in the winter.

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