“It is, sir. It is.”
Dan handed the boy the reddish bill.
The boy grinned as he held it out before him. “Five-zero. Fifty. That’s a lots of money!” he exclaimed.
“Yes, it is,” Dan said. “Make sure your grandfather buys you something nice with it.”
The boy nodded, smiling. “Oh, yes,” he said. “Oh, yes! No more kurta pyjama. I want Game Boy!”
Out on deck, the engine’s hum filled the air. A blurry moon burned a bone-white path along the darkened strait. Mountains loomed black on either side of the boat, deceptively close. Mayne Island was somewhere ahead. If Trevor sounded welcoming, Victoria could wait a day or two.
He flipped open his cell phone and dialled. Trevor’s reassuring voice answered.
“Hi there, sexy guy.”
There was a pause. “Dan?” The voice was hesitant.
“Correct. How are you?”
“Great! I’m really well, thanks! How are you?”
“I’m doing all right, too. I thought I’d call and say hi.”
“Well, I’m glad you did. It’s good to hear from you. It sounds really windy, by the way. Where are you?”
“Outside on my cell phone.”
“It’s nice to hear your voice.”
“And yours. I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.”
Trevor laughed softly. “That’s sweet. Though it would be nicer to hear you say it in person. I was serious when I said you could visit any time.”
“I know. I’ve been thinking about that.”
“So?” Trevor’s tone was jocular, half-taunting. “When are you coming?”
Dan pretended to mull this over. “How does now sound?”
He heard Trevor laugh. “Now what?”
“How does right now sound for a visit?”
There was a pause. Dan waited. “Um, explain?”
“I’m on the ferry. I’ll be berthing at Village Bay in fifteen minutes.”
“What?”
“….and I sure hope there’s a hotel on your island if you’re too busy to see me.”
“Is this for real?” The ferry’s three-toned wail sounded over the engine’s roar. “Oh my god!” Trevor exclaimed. “Are you really here?”
“How far are you from the terminal?”
“Ten minutes by foot, if I start now.” He paused. “You’re not kidding, are you? I mean, I hope you’re not, you bastard.”
“I never kid. See you soon.” Dan clicked off and went back inside.
Dan couldn’t remember ever having driven in such utter darkness. It could have been the blackness of death, deep and irrevocable. Here and there cottage windows glowed like fireflies, winking in and out between trees. Trevor talked excitedly all the way, pausing briefly to announce an upcoming turn Dan could barely make out. A long, narrow drive elbowed into the forest, turning perpendicularly before lurching upwards over rocks and weeds. High above, a roof jutted from a hilltop like a misplaced runway. Lights sheared off from the windows and into the trees.
“Even in the dark I can tell this is quite a piece of architecture,” Dan said.
“Thanks. I designed it myself,” Trevor said. “We have to park here and walk up.”
The headlights died and everything disappeared outside the car.
“Sorry it’s so dark,” Trevor said, swinging the flashlight back and forth on the path ahead. “My garden lights stopped working last month.”
They navigated the stone steps studding the hill. The climb brought them to a metal walkway spanning a gully and leading to the front door.
“In the daytime this gives a great view of the harbour,” Trevor said. “You can stand here and see clear across to Pender Island.”
At the door Dan waited for Trevor to step forward with the keys. “Go ahead — it’s unlocked,” Trevor said with a laugh. “It’s always unlocked.”
Dan put his bag down inside the entryway. Trevor scooped it up and trotted off with it. “I only have one bedroom, and you’re sleeping in here with me,” he said, “so don’t get any ideas!”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Dan replied. “I didn’t come all this way to sleep on a couch.”
Three walls of windows flanked an open space whose ceiling sloped up at the far end. The blackness outside seemed to press in on them. Sleek lines and clean surfaces lent the interior a modern tone, but the old-fashioned feel of wood and tile kept it comfy and warm. Dan suspected it mirrored its owner’s personality.
“You’ve done well,” he said.
Trevor shrugged. “Back when I had a real job....” He removed a bottle of wine from the fridge and held it up. “White okay?”
“Sounds great.”
Trevor uncorked the bottle and set it on the counter. He looked at Dan with an odd smile. “I can’t believe it.”
“What can’t you believe?”
“You. That you’re here!”
Dan stood in the middle of the room. Trevor came over to him. The kiss started as a question but quickly turned insistent, the flat of Trevor’s hand on his back urging Dan closer. Trevor broke it off with a sigh.
“Please — have a seat,” he said, running around the cottage, switching off lights and pulling down shades.
Dan sat as Trevor stepped onto a back porch and returned with an armful of logs, stacking them in the fireplace. Flames reached up from rolled newspaper and kindling to the logs. Trevor’s nervous energy seemed to be running down. He slid onto the couch beside Dan.
“I’m afraid to look too closely,” he said. “I’m afraid this will turn out to be a dream and I’ll wake up lonely again.” His hand on Dan’s neck drew them closer. “Kiss me again. If it’s a dream, this will wake me.”
Their lips met and withdrew. Trevor smiled. “Mmm … not a dream.”
“You feel pretty real, too, I’m glad to say.”
“Okay. What are you doing here? Have you come to live snuggly ever after with me or what?”
“Actually, I’m here on a case.”
“You’re searching for someone? How exciting! But if it’s me, your search is over. I promise not to resist.”
Dan smiled. “You’re number one on my list, but there is someone else I’m here to find.”
“Wait!” Trevor exclaimed and shot up from the seat. “This calls for a drink.” He returned with the bottle and a pair of glasses. “I hope you like Viognier.”
Dan’s eyebrows rose comically. “I adore caviar.”
“Ha!”
They toasted and Trevor sat back on the couch. “Shoot,” he said, glancing over to check that the fire was burning properly.
“I’ve got a lead on a misper that’s taking me to Vancouver Island,” Dan said.
Trevor’s face was a blank. “You’ve got a lead on a what?”
Dan smiled. “Sorry. A ‘misper.’ A missing person.”
Trevor searched Dan’s