The next morning was infinitely better.

Maybe it was because they had finally talked.

Maybe it was because Clinton was beautiful this time of year.

Or maybe it was simply because Ethan had spent the entire morning making it impossible for Raina to stay angry for more than five consecutive minutes.

Either way, the tension from the previous night had faded considerably by the time they finished breakfast.

The lake shimmered beneath the morning sun as they arrived at a small dock on the edge of town. Several fishing boats drifted lazily across the water while a handful of locals stood along the wooden pier with rods in hand.

Raina looked around skeptically.

Ethan looked delighted.

That should have been her first warning.

"You’ve done this before?" she asked as he prepared the fishing line.

"A few times."

"And people enjoy it?"

Ethan laughed.

"Believe it or not, yes."

Raina glanced out across the lake.

Nothing moved.

Nothing happened.

The water sat there doing absolutely nothing.

She waited.

And waited.

And waited.

After fifteen minutes she finally looked at Ethan.

"This is unbelievably boring."

"You’ve been here fifteen minutes."

"Exactly."

"You’re supposed to be patient."

"I am patient."

Ethan slowly turned toward her.

The look he gave her was so unimpressed that she felt personally attacked.

"Compared to most people," she continued, "I’m incredibly patient."

"You threatened a delivery driver over missing sauce."

"He forgot the sauce."

"You threatened him."

"I educated him."

Ethan shook his head and returned his attention to the water.

Twenty minutes later his fishing rod bent sharply.

Raina watched him pull a large fish from the lake.

The thing flopped violently on the end of the line.

She stared at it.

Then at Ethan.

Then back at the fish.

"Of course."

"What?"

"The fish likes you."

"The fish doesn’t know me."

"That’s what makes it offensive."

By the time they packed up and left the dock, Ethan had caught three fish.

Raina had caught absolutely nothing.

She claimed the lake was biased.

Ethan claimed she had spent more time complaining than fishing.

Neither changed their position.

Around noon they headed into town.

Clinton was larger than Harrington in almost every way. The streets were busier, the shops more crowded, and the sidewalks packed with tourists enjoying the weekend.

Music drifted from open cafés.

Street vendors sold snacks from colorful carts.

Local businesses displayed banners advertising attractions unique to the city.

Apparently the most famous attraction in Clinton wasn’t its lake.

Or its parks.

Or its history.

It was electric eels.

Raina still didn’t understand why.

Which was precisely how she found herself standing in front of the Clinton Electric Eel Museum.

A giant smiling cartoon eel stared down at visitors from an enormous banner hanging above the entrance.

Raina folded her arms.

"This cannot be a real place."

Ethan checked his phone.

"The reviews are excellent."

"The reviewers need professional help."

"You haven’t even gone inside."

"I don’t need to."

Five minutes later she was inside.

The museum was far more impressive than she wanted to admit.

Massive aquariums stretched across entire walls. Interactive exhibits explained electrical discharges and migration patterns. Children ran between displays while parents attempted to keep up.

The gift shop alone contained enough eel merchandise to financially support a small nation.

Raina wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned.

Probably both.

Eventually they stopped in front of the museum’s main attraction.

A cylindrical tank stretched from floor to ceiling.

Several electric eels drifted lazily through the illuminated water.

Raina watched one for several seconds.

The eel stared back.

Neither looked impressed.

"If that thing could talk," she said, "I feel like it would complain about everything."

Ethan glanced between her and the eel.

"The resemblance is remarkable."

She nudged him in the ribs.

A familiar voice interrupted them.

"No way."

Raina immediately closed her eyes.

Because she already knew.

She absolutely knew.

When she opened them again, Garrett stood several feet away holding a museum guidebook and a drink large enough to qualify as a blunt weapon.

His expression mirrored her own disbelief.

"Okay," Garrett said, pointing at them. "This is getting weird."

Ethan sighed.

"Garrett."

"Yesterday at Lala Land."

Garrett held up one finger.

"Today at the Electric Eel Museum."

A second finger joined the first.

"What are the odds?"

Ethan wrapped an arm around Raina’s shoulders and smiled thoughtfully.

"You know, you’re right."

"I usually am."

"It’s probably a good thing we keep running into each other."

Garrett narrowed his eyes.

"Why?"

Ethan’s smile widened.

"We wouldn’t want anyone thinking anyone was stalking anyone."

Garrett groaned immediately.

"Oh, come on."

Raina bit down hard on a laugh.

"I walked into that one, didn’t I?"

"You really did."

Garrett rubbed his forehead.

"For the record, we genuinely came here because it’s one of Clinton’s biggest attractions."

"Of course."

"It is."

"Sure."

"You don’t believe me."

"I believe you want me to believe you."

Raina finally looked away before she laughed outright.

Poor man never stood a chance.

"Where’s Susan?" she asked.

Garrett glanced around.

"She was here a minute ago."

"A minute?"

"...Maybe twenty."

Raina raised an eyebrow.

Garrett visibly deflated.

"Oh."

Exactly.

Fortunately, Ethan stepped in before the conversation could become any more awkward.

"Well," he said, taking Raina’s hand, "my girlfriend and I are going to continue enjoying our vacation."

The emphasis on my girlfriend wasn’t subtle.

Neither Garrett nor Raina missed it.

"Fair enough," Garrett replied.

"We’ll see you around."

"Hopefully not too soon."

"Hopefully."

As they walked away, Raina glanced back once.

Susan had returned.

She was speaking to Garrett.

Whatever she was saying didn’t look pleasant.

Neither did his response.

Good.

Let them deal with their own problems.

She had enough of hers.

The rest of the afternoon passed peacefully.

They explored the town.

Visited a few shops.

Bought snacks they didn’t need.

Took photographs near the waterfront.

For a little while, it almost felt like the world had finally decided to leave them alone.

By evening they were back at the cabin.

The weekend had ended far too quickly.

Suitcases sat beside the door.

The refrigerator was nearly empty.

The little lakeside retreat that had felt so alive two days earlier now seemed strangely quiet.

Raina lingered on the porch for a moment while Ethan loaded the luggage into the car.

The lake reflected the late afternoon sunlight.

The trees swayed gently in the breeze.

For two days, the outside world had felt distant.

Almost irrelevant.

"You okay?"

She turned.

Ethan was watching her from beside the car.

"Yeah."

"You don’t sound convinced."

She smiled faintly.

"I was thinking."

"Dangerous hobby."

"There he is."

"Who?"

"The comedian."

Ethan placed a hand over his chest.

"I charge by the hour."

Raina rolled her eyes before finally joining him.

The drive back to Harrington took most of the day.

They argued over music.

Stopped for coffee.

Stopped again because Raina decided she needed snacks despite already having snacks.

By the time the city skyline appeared in the distance, darkness had settled over the roads.

Streetlights illuminated the streets in soft pools of gold.

Ethan dropped her off first.

Malik helped unload the luggage while Ethan carried her overnight bag to the front door.

For a moment neither seemed eager for the weekend to officially end.

"I’ll call you later."

"You better."

"I mean it."

"So do I."

A smile touched his lips before he leaned forward and kissed her.

Slow.

Gentle.

Familiar.

The kind of kiss that always made leaving harder than it should have been.

When they finally pulled apart, Raina found herself smiling despite everything.

"Go home."

"You first."

"Ethan."

"I’m serious."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Raina."

Only after she stepped inside did he finally leave.

She watched his car disappear down the street before turning away from the window.

Then her phone rang.

The smile vanished instantly.

Frank.

Raina answered.

"Talk to me."

"Our men following Malcolm checked in."

Her expression hardened immediately.

"What happened?"

"They saw him make a call."

Raina stopped walking.

"To who?"

"We don’t know."

A brief pause followed.

"He used a payphone."

The words settled heavily in the silence.

A payphone.

Nobody used payphones anymore.

Not unless they wanted to avoid leaving a trail.

Not unless they were deliberately trying to hide something.

Raina slowly moved back toward the window and stared out into the darkness beyond the glass.

Malcolm wasn’t careless.

Everything she had learned about him suggested patience, caution, and calculation.

If he’d gone out of his way to avoid being traced, then whatever conversation had taken place mattered.

A lot.

"Keep watching him."

"Of course, boss."

The line went quiet.

Raina remained staring into the darkness.

Her thoughts drifted from Malcolm to Susan.

From Susan to Ethan.

Too many problems were moving at once.

Too many loose ends were starting to tighten around her.

And she hated not being the one in control.

"Frank."

"Yes, boss?"

Raina’s gaze darkened.

"I need you to take care of one more problem for me."