7
“I’ll tell you a story, Young Master Jeremy.”
Jeremy shook himself awake. They weren’t crossing the 520 floating bridge.
Instead they were looking at the bridge that stretched across Lake Washington. The lake bounded Seattle for twenty-five miles along the eastern side just as Puget Sound did on the western one. The floating bridge itself lay stretched out across the lake like a compass needle in the night, connecting Seattle with Bellevue and Redmond where Microsoft and home lay.
He estimated the angle and distance as well as he could in the darkness. Based on those, their low angle of elevation to the bridge, and the sparse lights on the far shore, he calculated that they must be in the park at the end of the Madison Park neighborhood.
Then he looked out his side window and stared
