CHAPTER THIRTEEN
They arrived at the Angler Head Yacht Club half an hour later. It was situated facing East Potomac Park. From the parking lot, they could see another yacht club, thrown up against the Potomac River the same way houses were built seemingly overnight in growing subdivisions. It was a pretty enough morning—seventy-three degrees and partly cloudy—but because of the early hour, the place was mostly empty.
“So here’s what we know about Kim Wielding’s link to this place,” he said. “This is really the only public place she was ever seen with the Carver kids outside of the car rider line at their school. She has a friend that works at the restaurant and bar here, an older lady named Madeline Duplin. We know this because they have spoken on the phone at least three times and becau
