Guilty (13 page)

"Okay by me." He tipped the Thermos and swallowed the remainder of his coffee.

Shaw studied his old friend, looking for some sign of familiarity in the strange face. "Where will you go?"

Macklin stood and zipped up his Windbreaker. "Don't know. Wander, I guess." He squinted at the horizon. The rising sun was bleeding slowly into the clouds. "I've got a job to do."

Shaw sighed. "What do you want me to tell Cory when she gets out of the mental hospital?"

"Tell her the truth," Macklin said. "Tell her I'm dead."

He offered his hand to Shaw, who grasped it tightly for a long moment before shaking it. "Good-bye, Mack."

"Take care of yourself, Ronny." Macklin picked up the briefcase, smiled at his friend, and walked away.

Shaw listened to the waves break against the rocky breakwater and watched a lone seagull float gently on the crosswinds. Behind him, he could feel Brett Macklin quietly fading into the fog.