"You just like the uniform," he teased. "The black shoes."
"You'd like one of them on the back of your neck," she said. "I know you, Oliver." He was rewarded that night.
Late one afternoon, toward the end of June, Jacky called. "I need you to come over," she said and hung up. This was unusual; their meetings were always planned in advance.
"Oh, oh, Verdi. She's not happy."
Things were going well for a change. The Wetlands Conservancy had asked him to recommend and install an accounting system. They'd gotten a generous donation, Jennifer told him, from a bank. "Did you know that Jacky Chapelle is on the Board?"
"I didn't," he said, surprised.
Jacky smiled when he asked her about it. "Community money," she said.
"Small community," Oliver said.
"Keep it in the family," she laughed.
The marinas were filled with white boats. Bikers and pedestrians were crossing the bridge in both directions. Oliver parked in Jacky's driveway. "Hi, Bubbles," he said. That was a mistake.