"What's this called?" "Dark Canyon," I answered. "It's deep enough and narrow enough that except for a couple of hours at mid-day, it's in the shadows...all the time. It runs clear back up to the mountains and has a stream all year round." We pulled into the canyon, this time half a mile or more before slowing to an idle and finishing the last few yards by paddle to prevent damaging the propeller. I turned the boat into a cleft and tied off, leaving the boat invisible to anyone that didn't. ‘I’ll be waiting for you.’ ‘I bet!’ Rod thought. He finished his paperwork, called his wife to tell her he’d be late again, then he got in his cruiser and headed for Mrs. Whitman’s house. Exactly an hour after he made the phone call to her, Rod was ringing Rhonda Whitman’s doorbell. The sight that greeted him when the door opened took his breath away. Mrs. Whitman’s lean body was enclosed in a light pink fleece robe that looked softer than anything Rod had ever seen. She smiled at Rod, her. More

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