Page 84 of Slack Tide Kill

"He's got tanks of marsh mud inside that boat," Sally said, lowering her voice. "Like, he's doing experiments or something."

"On mud?" Liam blurted, then quietened again. "You notice how he matches the profile, right? The age, interests, obsession with the land? Even the eco-terrorism, if he's going around punching people for littering."

Sally considered that data point. Something Mercer had said. "Yeah. But he's Mercer's friend. I don't see an ex-DI missing this for three decades."

"Maybe. I don't know. Vats of mud in his boat sounds pretty suspicious."

"So he's odd. That's not criminal. And he's helping."

"Or this is the wild goose chase, run by the killer himself."

Sally sat with that for a moment. "Right. Well, we've got eyes on him now. I still feel he's with us."

Liam just looked at her. It was enough to remind her of Dark Peak. How she'd trusted then, and been betrayed. Could the same be happening now?

Her pulse quickened. No way to know though; that was the whole point. You just had to do your best. She took a breath and reset herself.

"We'll dig into him, then. Keep an eye on him. OK?"

"That's all I want to hear."

"Good. Any update on the AROs?"

Liam frowned at the subject change, but allowed it. "Yes. One squad's in an ARV already leaving Dover. Mayhew wants in, so we just need to tell her where."

"As soon as we know, she knows."

They reached the Mustang. Bledd stood by the passenger door, absorbed in his drone case.

"Just flew over Giggers' Green Road," he said without looking up. "Nothing, like I thought. I have shotgun."

"Shotgun?" Liam asked. "It's a police car."

"And I'm driving," Bledd countered, holding up the handset. "I need the view up front."

Liam looked at Sally, but she just shrugged. He snorted, folded the seat forward and squashed his tall frame onto the narrow rear bench. Bledd dropped in, slid the seat all the way back which pulled an 'Oomph' from Liam, then slammed the door.

"Seatbelt," Sally said.

Bledd ignored her.

"Seatbelt," she repeated, louder.

Bledd fastened it. "Take us northeast on the Military Road."

"All right."

They set off and Bledd gave directions. Largely they reversed the way they'd already come. Back through Appledore, down through Brenzett and Old Romney, as Bledd occasionally barked out sharp updates.

"Puddledock's clear. Daleacres' clear."

Doubts buzzed in Sally's head. Every mile further along felt like they were slipping further behind. Maybe the Rooks had already fled the marsh. Maybe they were never even here.

"Bungalow Lake's clear. Jury's Gut's clear."

In the back Liam fielded calls from Mayhew, announcing their current location and setting up a rendezvous in Greatstone, just half a mile up the coast from Dungeness.

"Beggarsbush Lane clear. Five Vents clear."