Chapter Fourteen

“So, you just have to move your paddles like this,” I explained, showing him the scooping motion. We sat just off the dock in old leaky kayaks. The life vests smelled like last summer's sunshine and this year's mold, but we wore them anyway.

“Like this?” Freddie asked, repeating the motion perfectly. He then proceeded to turn his kayak in a neat circle, looking rather pleased with himself when he came back around.

“Yeah.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “I think you've done this before.”

“Not in a boat like this,” he replied. “But I did do some rowing in college. The concepts are similar.”

I rolled my eyes. Of course, he did rowing in college. He probably did all the expensive sports. I knew he had money. The rental car he'd driven us in hadn't been cheap. His clothes, even his swim trunks, were high end. He had gone to school with Carlson, and since Carlson was ivy-league educated, he tended to run in prestigious circles. I didn't want to pry and ask just how rich he was. But even I coul