The sound of the oar dipping into and out of the water soothed him. The surface of the lake reflected the bright sunlight in a mirror finish, save for the ripples from his boat and the action of his rowing. In the distance, he heard the cry of a loon.
A small lake, to be sure, but he knew it to be deep. Before he’d even worked up a sweat, he’d made it to the center. He pulled in the oars and let the dinghy drift.
The canvas duffle bag proved to be more difficult to maneuver on the water than it had on land. It took a moment of balancing to hoist the duffle up and over the side without tipping the boat too much. The sound of the splash in that pristine setting left a smile on his face. Maybe now that he’d chummed the clear waters he’d have better luck with catching the one that got away.