The Writer Read Free Page A

first fan of the writer to come around here hoping to get a peek. I figure everyone just needs to let things be. Let him live up there alone because that’s what he seems to want and I think people should get what they want.”
    Adele readjusted her backpack for a third time.
    “Yeah, but I’m the first one who he actually invited, right?”
    Will gave Adele a slow nod as he kept his eyes locked onto hers.
    “Yeah, I guess so. Unless I hear different, expect me back here in three hours like you said.”
    Adele was both fascinated and just a bit uncomfortable at Will’s sudden concern for her well-being. She quickly pushed aside her discomfort when she remembered she was about to meet the reclusive Decklan Stone – in person .
    “OK, Mr. Speaks, and thank you again.”
    She gave Will a quick wave as he hopped back onto the Whaler, restarted its motor, and began to move away from the dock.
    He didn’t wave back.

2.
    The path at the end of the dock consisted of a narrow trail of compacted gravel that led upward and then through a dense area of trees. After several steps, Adele paused to look behind her at the glistening, glasslike waters below. She could see Will Speaks navigating the Whaler back to the Deer Harbor marina and then moved her eyes upward to follow the slow, circling path of a bald eagle. Between a gap in the trees, she saw a small cove almost entirely hidden from the main body of water by a dark, circular outcrop of rock. Behind that was a small, red-hulled fiberglass runabout tied by a long rope around the trunk of a tree that hung over a sand and pebble beach.
    Adele took a deep breath and relished the intoxicating mixture of saltwater and trees.
    It was certainly a beautiful place, the kind of place she could easily imagine a writer like Decklan Stone living out his days in quiet solitude.
    I would love to live here.
    Adele Plank was a student at the nearby university in Bellingham, some twenty-six nautical miles from Deer Harbor, but she had grown up in Washington State’s interior. She was born and raised in the small town of Concrete in Skagit County. She had never been to the San Juan Islands; though, she knew of people who summered there and spoke glowingly of its enchanting and mysterious nature. Over four hundred smaller, but no less beautiful, islands, accompanied the primary islands of San Juan, Orcas and Lopez. It was a boater’s paradise, a place that had long attracted visitors from all over the world.
    “Hello there.”
    Adele whirled around and found herself staring up at Decklan Stone. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell partly open as she tried in vain to think of something to say.
    “Can I take your backpack? The trail gets a bit steep, though it does make for a nice workout.”
    Oh, my. He’s gorgeous!
    Decklan Stone appeared remarkably well-preserved. Though Adele knew him to be fifty-seven years of age, he could easily have passed for a man in his early forties. His lightly bearded face was nearly devoid of lines, his blue eyes bright and clear, and his dark hair nearly as thick and unruly as the black-and-white photo of him that accompanied Adele’s copy of Manitoba , taken thirty years ago.
    Adele was horrified to find her mouth barely able to form words.
    “Oh, yes, uh, thank you. Hello, my name is Adele, Adele Plank.”
    The author easily dissected the distance between himself and Adele in a few quick and confident steps down the trail, bringing with him the subtle scent of cologne and tobacco smoke. His voice was low, smooth, and dangerously enticing. He was just over six-feet tall, with wide shoulders, narrow hips, and especially long, athletic legs housed in tan khakis that accompanied a thick, cream-colored wool sweater. A pair of dark gray, loafer-style boating shoes adorned his feet.
    “Yes, I know who you are, Ms. Plank. I invited you.”
    Adele tried not to blush, but failed as she placed her backpack into Decklan’s long-fingered, outstretched hands. She made