The Area outside the Waterfront- 4 P.M.
A hundred yards away, Max stole her way closer to the boathouse. There was really no need for secrecy. After the news bulletin had gone out, a crowd had started to gather at the waterfront. For nearly a decade, Eyes Only had been a hero to the city of Seattle. At first, there had been cable hacks that exposed corruption and crime. Then, as the city's infrastructure had recovered from the Pulse, Eyes Only had interrupted internet web casts too. In recent years, the broadcasts had come less frequently, but had tackled bigger targets. Only last month, construction a harbor tunnel had been halted when Eyes Only had revealed that funds were being siphoned away and the theft hidden by the use unsafe building materials.
The police had strung yellow tape around the crime scene, but thirty or forty people pressed forward trying to peer into the alley. Heart pounding, Max stepped closer. Max hadn't needed the close ups of the crime scene photos to identify Logan's chair. She had known it was Logan's at a glance.
Max had helped him to pick it out that night after the leap off the Steinlitz. Logan had joked about needing a chair with jet thrusters, but when he had started to close up the catalog, Max had shyly pulled up a chair and opened up the website again. Thinking back to that night, maybe it had been her way of showing that the chair was a necessary and important tool in Logan's life, and that she wanted to be a part of that life too. They had shared the briefest of moments together and Logan had ended up with the sleek black model he had kept all these years.
Back then, their relationship had consisted only of those brief moments, shoehorned in between car chases and leaps from buildings. Years later, Logan had teased that he had ended up with the wrong footrest because Max had made him so nervous that night. Logan had bought only one more wheelchair, for his basketball games. After that, money had grown tight with the fall of Cale Industries, so Logan had kept and repaired the same sturdy everyday chair for the past seven years. It was that wheelchair that the coroner's office was now loading unceremoniously into the back of the van.