Kate had done a lot of sailing, been on many boats, including the Hinckley Bermuda 40 her grandmother and Ruth used to charter. At first glance, this interior looked like others she had seen before. She saw hunter-green settees on either side, a folded-up dining table in the center, a small galley to the left of the companion ladder. Nestled into the corner was a small tile fireplace—a rarity on boats.
The beam of Tom’s flashlight was directed at one of the settees—padded benches along the bulkhead. He shined the light upward, and she saw chains bolted into the wood. Her gaze followed them down, where handcuffs attached to chains lay on either side of the mattress.
“What is this?” Kate asked, hardly able to speak.
“Someone was held prisoner here,” Conor said.
Kate watched as the flashlight beam moved in on the galvanized metal clasps. They were streaked with something dark, and she saw that there were maroon spots on the settee fabric.
“Blood,” Conor said. “Whoever was restrained here struggled to get free.”
“The handcuffs chafed her wrist,” Kate said. She used the pronounherwith no doubt that a woman had been held here. Her eyes met Conor’s, and he nodded.
Tom put on gloves and tapped the bulkhead. A corner of the wood was loose, and he pulled it free to look behind. “There’s foam insulation in there. This boat has been soundproofed,” he said.
“So no one could hear her scream,” Kate said.
The four of them climbed back onto the dock. The sun was starting to set. Butterscotch rays spilled through thunderheads, over the waves, and through the town. Kate felt sick. Tom stood beside the boat, noting the registration number. Kate walked to the stern to look at the name. In the declining light, the letters looked ephemeral, as if they’d been scrawled by a spirit, and she could barely make them out:Psyche.
Tom tried to make a call, but it wouldn’t go through.
“No reception,” he said. “Big surprise. I need to call this in. Joe, you, too, right?”
“We need a crime scene van,” Joe said. “But there’s no ferry service, so how am I going to get it out here?”
“You’re right, there’s no scheduled ferry,” Tom said. “But there’s a boat ramp. It’s how they get supplies delivered.” He walked over to the cracked asphalt sloping down into the cove and gave it a skeptical once-over. “The ramp’s not in great shape, but it’s workable. You can get whatever you need onto the island.”
Joe looked toward the white houses along the main street. “You think anyone has a landline?” he asked.
“We can use my radio,” Kate said. “But since it’s getting so late, maybe you should just come with me, head back here tomorrow.”
“Someone has to stay and preserve the crime scene,” Conor said. He scanned the village. “This place seems deserted, but you know if anyone’s home, they’re watching us right now. We don’t want anyone tampering with evidence. And we should start questioning them.”
“Why didn’t anyone say anything?” Kate said, gazing back atPsyche. “Someone was tortured on that boat. The people in those houses or the ones who own the fishing boats ... Even if they didn’t hear screams, they must have noticed something.”
“Well, we’re here now, and no one is getting on or off the island without our seeing,” Joe said. “And you can be sure we’ll question everyone.”
“Where are you going to sleep?” Kate asked, gazing at Conor.
“Who’s going to sleep?” Joe asked.
They returned to Kate’s plane, and Tom and Joe took turns using the radio to call their headquarters and request assistance. Conor and Kate stood a few yards back. She felt him staring at her. Her heart was beating hard. There was so much they needed to say to each other, but she had no idea where to start. He stepped forward, touched her arm.
“Kate,” he said.
She shook her head.
“We should be . . .”
“Married by now,” she said in a low voice. Their wedding should have happened over two hours ago. They should be having dinner under that magical white tent. The band should be starting to play, and any minute now they would have started dancing.
“I know,” he said. “Kate, I want to fix this.”
“Fix it how?”
“Tell me. I’ll do anything.”
Her thoughts were scrambled, and she tried to put them into words. “I wish you had told me everything from the beginning.”
