Chapter 14: The Yacht Club

I called Abe with my keys already in my hand.

"Brooke's got him. On the deck over the water."

"She didn't come through the lot." His car door slammed. "I've watched every car in."

"Then she came by boat."

He was running. I could hear gravel.

"Don't touch her," I said. "Don't say your name. Just go stand where he can see you."

"Yvette."

"Where he can see you, Abe. I'm coming."

I ran out my front door.

The plumber's van was already at my curb with the side door open.

The man at the wheel was fifty, in coveralls, with a face like a closed fist.

"Lake Bluff, ma'am," he said. "He called."

I got in.

He drove without the polka.

The yacht club was white clapboard and blue awnings and a lawn that ran down to the docks.

A man at the door in a blazer said, "Members and guests only."

"I'm the mother of a guest," I said, and walked past him.

The deck was full.

A birthday banner with a cartoon shark on it hung over the rail.

Twenty children in paper hats, and their parents, and members at the outer tables with their Sunday wine.

Brooke was at a white table by the rail, in sunglasses, with Finn on her lap and a melted bowl in front of him.

Abe was standing ten feet away by the door, in his cap, with his hands in his jacket pockets.

A club security guard was talking to him.

The guard was young and confident, and then he looked at Abe's face for a second too long.

He stopped talking.

He stepped back and went to find someone else to talk to.

Finn saw me and waved a chocolate spoon.

"Mom! The flying man came in! He's not even a member. Technically he's not allowed."

"Technically," I said, "neither is Aunt Brooke's boat."

Down at the end of the dock, a long white cruiser was tied up with a man in a polo shirt smoking on the stern.

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