Lunch on Wednesday with Tiara and Cory was an unexpected pleasure. Sitting in Greens restaurant, drinking a sparkling Rose. Directly beside the floor to ceiling windows that surrounded the former warehouse space, their table looked out to docked sailboats. The Golden Gate Bridge in the distance. Caydance ordered a grilled eggplant sandwich with tomatoes, roasted onions, arugula, fresh mozzarella and Romesco sauce on herb focaccia. Tiara and Cory were splitting a goat cheese, butternut squash, walnuts, and caramelized onion pizza.

Cory was on sabbatical, working on a book on contemporary narrative photography. They had been to an owned-by-friends Inn in the Sierra foothills, where, assured of good meals and a warm welcome, they spent a week exploring, hiking, writing, drawing, and reading. Now they were stopping in the city on the way home to the Russian River.

No special occasion, just a chance to talk art and enjoy the view. But, explaining briefly why she was asking, Caydance brought up the subject of Mackie Alarie. Did either of them know anything about his past or whereabouts?