Page 235 of Hidden Depths

I had seen Grandpa’s handwriting on birthday cards, fishing notes, and the labels he used to put on everything in the galley.

But I’d never expected to see it again.

I carefully opened the sleeve and removed the envelope.

Inside was a single photograph.

A younger Grandpa stood beside Thomas on a marina dock. Several other men surrounded them, smiling as though they were lifelong friends.

One face had been circled in red ink.

The man was younger, but there was no mistaking the silver hair or the cold arrogance in his eyes.

I turned the photograph over.

Grandpa had written only three lines.

His name is Charles Ashford.

He commands the Mariner’s Crown.

Never believe anything he tells you.

Ward moved closer to study the photograph.

“At least we know who we’re hunting.”

Thomas shook his head.

“Charles Ashford isn’t the man you should fear most.”

A chill slid down my spine.

“What does that mean?”

Thomas reached into the bottom of the box and removed another photograph.

This one showed Charles Ashford standing beside a man whose face had been scratched away with something sharp.

Only the words beneath it remained.

ASHFORD ANSWERS TO HIM.

I stared at the ruined photograph.

“The silver-haired captain isn’t in charge?”

“No,” Thomas said.

Outside, the Coast Guard sirens faded into the distance.

Thomas looked toward the water.

“Charles Ashford is only the man they allow you to see.”

44

STORM