Page 40

“Can you describe what you remember?”

“He was older. Maybe late fifties or early sixties. Tall. Thin. He never seemed frightened, even when the Coast Guard arrived.”

“Did you hear anyone use his name?”

“No.”

“Did he speak directly to you?”

“Not that I remember.”

Kim enlarged the man’s face.

The image remained clear.

Pale eyes.

Sharp cheekbones.

Silver hair swept away from his forehead.

A thin scar crossed the left side of his chin.

Morales wrote down each detail.

“Continue,” she said.

Kim advanced through the photographs.

Mariner’s Crown turned across the waves. Men moved along the deck. One raised a weapon toward Sea Whisper.

Ben’s body stiffened beside me.

I touched his knee beneath the table.

“I’m okay.”

“I know.”

He didn’t sound convinced.

Kim opened another image.

The silver-haired man was no longer visible, but the stern of Mariner’s Crown filled most of the frame.

“Stop.”

Kim looked at me.

“What did you notice?”

“The name.”

MARINER’S CROWN had been painted in white across the stern.

Beneath it, smaller letters identified the vessel’s registered port.

Most of the name had been obscured by spray.