Livia Lone

23-NOW

Masnick was careful about his burner, mostly keeping it powered off and never turning it on alongside his personal cell phone. But once Livia knew the burner was his, all she had to do was start tracking the personal unit. So when the personal unit showed up at the Trader Joe’s in Shoreline one morning two days after Livia had listened in on Masnick’s conversation with Jardin, Livia made sure to be there, too, picking up some frozen dinners, a container of mixed berries, a box of cereal, and a few bottles of wine.

Masnick was perusing the endless refrigerated shelves of beer with names like Ice Harbor Runaway Red Ale and Reuben’s Brews Robust Porter and Snoqualmie Falls Wildcat IPA. She headed toward him, her eyes on the shelves, drifting along until her cart smacked into his with a metal clang. “Oh!” she said. “I’m sorry. I should pay more attention to where I’m going.”

He looked at her face, then glanced down to take in the rest of her. She was wearing yoga tights, the outfit calculated to get his attention. She didn’t doubt Masnick’s feelings for Jardin, but in the end he was a Hammerhead-not a species renowned for worship of monogamy.

“Uh, no,” he said, looking into her eyes and smiling. “That’s okay.”

She smiled back. “This’ll teach me to do the grocery shopping before I’ve had a cup of coffee. I need to figure out where things are around here.”

“What, are you new in town?”

“Yeah, up from San Francisco. Still getting my bearings.”

“Well, if you like coffee, Seattle’s the right place.”

“That’s what I hear. Though I’ll tell you, San Francisco’s pretty hard to beat in the coffee department. Got any recommendations?”

He laughed. “I tend to fuel up at a place called Black Rock. You’re not going to find as much here in Shoreline as in Seattle, or in San Francisco, I guess, but with Black Rock you won’t miss it, either.”

She gave him an appreciative nod. “Thanks. I’m Suzy, by the way.”

He gave her body another look, then extended a hand. “Good to meet you, Suzy. I’m Mike.”

She shook his hand, holding it just a tad longer than decorum alone would dictate. “Well, Mike, do you mind if I take advantage of short acquaintance to ask you another question about the neighborhood?”

He glanced at her shopping cart. She could see him doing the math based on her groceries-a woman living alone. A woman who might enjoy a glass of wine before eating her microwaved dinner, to take the edge off. And maybe another with dinner, to keep the edge off. And maybe another after dinner, to kill the edge entirely.

“Hey, happy to help.”

“So, I’ve got a Westie mix. Ginger’s her name. Where’s a good place to take her to let her off the leash?”

“Easy. Saltwater Park.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s at Richmond Beach. Right here in Shoreline.” He looked her up and down again. “And you look like you’re into staying fit, yeah?”

“You guessed it.”

“Well, you’d be amazed at the workout you can get going up and down the stairs there.” He smiled. “I go a lot around sunset. Probably be there tonight. You should come by. You could introduce me to Ginger.”

She smiled back. “I might just do that, Mike.”