She was beginning to wonder where he went when he disappeared like that. After the crowd thinned she took the trout out of the cooler, thankful that he’d cleaned it last night. She looked at Carlos. “You’re sure you don’t know how to cook fish? You’ve surprised me with just about everything else.” He eyed the trout suspiciously. “I’ve cooked Dorado mostly; nothing this small and never for a restaurant.” “Okay then.” She picked up a lemon and sniffed it appreciatively. “We’ll start with the lemon.” She turned and found him staring out the window toward the boathouse. “Carlos?” “Should he be out there alone?” His tone set off warning bells in her head. “Who?” “Logan. He’s in the canoe with the dog. Look.” A brisk wind had pushed the canoe about twenty feet away from the dock. Amanda froze for a moment, trying to remember where Kathy and Dave were. It didn’t matter now; Logan was out there and he was in trouble. He had his arms through the holes of a life vest but it wasn’t done up; the snaps in front were flopping loosely.
