Lorne and Catherine stood on the balcony a while later, surveying the scene below. Two tugs were moving a barge with a crane into position beside the wreck. Down on the waterfront walkway, activity seemed normal except for the people stopped at vantage points to watch.

"See anything unusual? Anybody checking out people?"

"Not yet. You?"

"No."

They watched for a few minutes longer, then he looked at her. "Anything strange?"

"Nothing except you in my kimono." She sniggered.

He glanced down and laughed. "Yeah, I am a bit large for it."

A while later as they were showering, he asked, "Can we trust Cynthia?"

"How do you mean?"

"I don't know... thinking. She represents some of the restaurants that... Whatever you call it. That are like Molly's."

"Like that dinner at La Luce."

"Yeah. That and Greystone, Zack's, Gavroche, others. They're all similar. I was at her opening promotions, then back later, but I haven't been able to write reviews on them."

"I've missed those. My hermit phase. Last of her soft openings I did before La Luce was Dalliance down in Gastown."

"That's another of those. Kept going back, never could —"

"Fuck! Oh, my fuck..." Catherine froze.

Lorne held her. "What? What is it?"

"Oh, my God. That's probably where Nathan was going the night that..."

They stood holding each other under the shower nozzles, still and silent.

"You think?" She looked up at him a long while later.

"Think what? Dalliance? Cynthia?"

"Yeah, both."

"We need to find out. Come, let's finish here." He kissed her, then squirted soap into his hands and started washing her. "You look at your relationship with Cynthia, I'll run the strange restaurants through my head."

Later as they sat sipping their espressos at the kitchen island, after she had rambled through her friendship with Cynthia, he nodded and said, "Unless she's a great actress, she seems straight. No change? You've noticed no change in her behaviour, her attitude toward you?"

"Nothing that pops out. Same easy sharing."

"She share much about her business?"

"Not much, we didn't talk work. That's one of the neat things. She's always been a good break from work. We celebrate our victories and blow off our frustrations, but no details."

"Like what? Frustrations, what were hers?"

"Finding a man. Cynthia was constantly on that." Catherine ran her finger around the rim of her cup. "Always bemoaned her lack of anything long-term. All short flings, no follow-on. Like her restaurant opening promos." She nodded and tilted her head. "Yeah, I can see that."

"Interesting."

"The only business stuff she mentioned was her concern for the future. She was getting fewer long-term marketing contracts, her business was becoming mostly opening promos."

"She knows you're K ate?"

"Yeah."

"Who else?"

"My parents, my editors, you. That's it."

"What about, Mark It, Promot Ink, the others?"

"No, I decided to do only Cynthia's promotions. I never write based on them, anyway. It was more a friend thing."

He glanced at the clock on the oven front. "What time's your lunch with her?"

"Twelve thirty at Saguaro."

"The Tex-Mex on Granville?"

"Yeah. It's still one of her long-terms."

"You trust her?"

"With everything, until now."

"And now?"

"Don't know." She looked down at her finger doing rim circles. "I'm going to wear-out this cup." She gave a tight laugh. "Fuck!"

"Yeah. Trust could mean death." They sat staring at each other.

She nodded her head slowly, tipped her cup toward her and looked in. "Another coffee? There are croissants in the freezer. We could zap some, shave some slices of Appenzeller, there's still a bit of Tuscan ham and... Fuck!"

"Strange isn't it?"

"Yeah. You've been doing this a long time, haven't you?"

"Sometimes seems too long."

"Sure builds strength and stoicism."

"Either that or give up and die."

"Fuck! And you've always seemed so happy, so upbeat."

"Ever watch a swan glide swiftly across the water?"

"Yeah, so smooth, graceful. Why?"

"Paddling like hell underneath."

"Good analogy. Surface appearance gives little clue what lies beneath." She nodded down at his crotch and smiled. "Can't tell what's hidden beneath the surface."

"Nor what's hidden in the mind, in the heart, in the soul." He stood, moved behind her and wrapped her in his arms, kissing her neck and shoulder.

"Cynthia will text me at twelve forty. We give each other ten minutes grace."

"Unless she knows you're dead."

"Fuck, that seems so strange to think about."

"Yeah, I've been dead before. Never quite got used to the idea of it, though."

"What if they've kept her out of the loop on this? If she's even part of this thing." She turned her head to stare at him. "Mixed messages, aren't there. So much doubt. Unknown."

He leaned in to kiss her. "We were going to do brunch."

A quarter-hour later as they sat eating their croissant sandwiches, she said, "Good idea, that, slicing them frozen."

"The croissants, yeah. It's tricky to get the defrosting time right. Often awkward to slice after. So, Cynthia? More thoughts?"

"My feeling is she's not involved, but I'm far too close to see. I hope it's only a business thing. Innocent business."

"Also my thoughts. Why would they trust her with information beyond the surface? They most likely share only enough to do the openings and initial promotions."

She stared at her coffee cup as she twirled a lock of her hair around her finger and unwound it. "Yeah, unaware what's behind them."

"Doesn't fit the profile." He laughed. "Nutcracker and Bottom Line are into mutilation."

"Fuck!" Catherine put her napkin to her mouth to hold the gag.

Lorne's hand was quickly on her back. "Sorry, have to stop mentioning —"

"Not that... Cynthia... Fuck!"

"Cynthia?"

"Girls' spa day. A few years ago. Fuck!" She looked at him and shook her head. "She's the one I told you about. Pierced lips, chain. Fuck. She proudly showed them to us in the sauna. Has a clit ring, nipple rings, scar drawings. Fuck! A big snarling tiger tattoo crawling around her hip, down her belly and onto her lips. She calls it her pussy cat."

"She know where you live?"

"Yeah, ladies' lunch here two or three years ago."

Lorne had his phone out, on and starting a redial as she finished talking. He went through the authentication process and was connected. "You need to pick us up now. We're located... Here, Catherine, you give him the address."

She took the phone and gave the address, "Car access along Aquarius Mews, number's on the garage door. Call on arrival, we'll open it." She handed the phone back to him.

"Have them text this number as they arrive... Great, we'll be ready... Thank you."