The Girl Beneath the Sea (Underwater Investigation Unit #1)(40)

We’ve been sitting in Cynthia’s living room without anything to say while I try to process all that Solar told me.

“Bonaventure’s files, the money. I thought that was clear.”

“Yeah, but what, exactly? Are they in a safe-deposit box? A U-Haul trailer? What were they looking for at the boatyard? And what did they expect to find on my boat?”

Solar shrugs. “Like I said, I’m not sure they even know.”

“Crack team of spies, they are,” I reply.

“In their defense, their expertise is money laundering and drug running. And most of them are K-Group contractors, not DIA employees.” He thinks it over for a moment. “No. They know roughly what they’re looking for.”

“Fine. Whatever. Let’s start with what we know—Winston was involved. What did he have to do with the missing money?”

“His role was building secret compartments for drug runners. Clearly, they must have used his services.”

“Like you said, that yard didn’t seem like the most practical location,” I reply. “Winston did other stuff. I know he worked on cars too. Maybe he made a compartment on a truck?”

“Possibly. I’m not sure why that would involve you. Maybe his daughter was trying to tell you the location of something?”

“I haven’t a clue.” This is so frustrating. We’re running in circles. I slap my damp jeans and realize I’m still holding on to the odd accessory we found from Winston’s pocket. “What about this?” I set it on a copy of The Atlantic in the middle of the coffee table.

“Is it important?” he asks.

“I know boats, and I don’t know what it is. Maybe it can tell us something about what Winston was up to.”

“Should we take a photo and do an internet search?” asks Solar.

I’m surprised by the suggestion. “Okay.” I take out my phone and upload the image to Google. It comes back with a hundred suggestions, from toilet valve to wine cork.

“Well, we tried,” says Solar.

“Wait. I know someone we could ask. Les Albert. He’s a local marine electronics guy. Everyone knows him. I’m sure he did some work with Winston. Electronics stuff.”

“Have his number?” asks Solar.

“Better. I know where he is. The Straw Hut.”

“The dive bar by the beach?”

“Yep.”

Solar gets up and announces to Cynthia across the house, “The McPherson kid and I are going to a bar.”

“Make sure she puts on something dry,” she calls back.



Twenty minutes later I’m riding shotgun in Solar’s truck dressed in a pair of vintage jeans and a Police concert T-shirt.

“You go there on a date?” I ask, staring down at the shirt.

“What? Me and Cindy? I think they’d broken up by the time we met. Maybe. I don’t know. But then again, I never followed music much. Any more personal questions?”

“Sorry,” I say.

“I don’t mean it like that. It’s just that I have a few for you.”

“Me? Like what?”

“How come you have a kid but you’re not married?”

“Because it’s not 1905. Women can vote now too.”

He makes a groan. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that you still seem close to your kid’s father. That’s all. I always wondered why you didn’t marry.”

I feel uncomfortable sitting next to him now. I have no idea who the heck he really is. “You always wondered? How does that not sound creepy? How long have you been into my business?”

“Ever since I looked across the courtroom and saw a little girl stare at me with murder in her eyes for tearing her family apart. I worried about what you were going to have to go through. I checked up on you,” he replies. “I know that sounds bad.”

“Maybe we don’t do the personal thing?” I say. “My shit turned out all right. Thank you.”

“Clearly,” he mumbles.

Maybe I’m being too rough on the guy. What would I do in his situation? I’ve spent so long thinking of him as an enemy from the family’s point of view, I never considered him from a cop’s standpoint.

Yeah, I would be pretty torn up watching that happen to a kid. Hell, that was why Uncle Karl’s attorney had me there. He wanted the jurors and the judge to feel bad for this kid in the hopes that they’d go easy on him.

I was a prop, I now realize. Damn it.

Besides my own father, is it possible Solar was the only other adult in the courtroom who cared about the effect the trial was having on me? Man, this is so . . . complicated.

“Sorry,” I say after a long silence.

Solar may have followed me to the secret boatyard, but he also risked his life firing back at the K-Group cowboys. He could have waited, but he didn’t. He was looking out for me—unless it’s still some elaborate ruse.

Remember, Sloan. He got busted for corruption.

Maybe he’s in this for the money or extortion, but I’m pretty sure he’s not out to harm me—at least not directly.

If letting him get whatever K-Group’s after is my way out of this, fine. If Jackie and I are safe, I don’t care if he’s just another crooked cop who thinks he has a conscience.