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Ulman interjected, "It's true. The coastline is riddled with caves, and smugglers did use them back in the day. But most are inaccessible or dangerous to explore, especially after a storm like this. Most of them are flooded or collapsed. People like to romanticize about such things, but a lot of those people smuggling in the 1800s were cold-blooded killers."
"I used to want to be a pirate when I was a kid," Finn replied thoughtfully. "In fact, I think my ten year old self would have been disappointed that never panned out."
"Oh, I don't know," Amelia said. "You grow a beard and get a parrot, you're half way there."
"Don't tempt me," Finn said. "I might make you walk the plank."
Mulberry laughed. "Are you both always like this?"
"She is," Finn said. "I'm the model of professionalism."
As they continued their journey down the river, the boat passed more signs of the flood's destructive path. Houses stood damaged and abandoned, their inhabitants likely evacuated or worse. The somber scenery served as a stark reminder of the urgency of their investigation.
Mulberry pointed to a particularly devastated area. "The flood hit here hardest. The river just... took everything in its path."
Finn's gaze lingered on the ruins, his mind becoming melancholy.
"That's a damn shame, losing your home like that," Finn said.
As the boat continued its journey, Mulberry's complexion grew increasingly pale, in opposition to the stoic expressions of Finn and Amelia. His discomfort was palpable, and Finn, noticing his unease, asked, "You okay there, Mulberry?"
Mulberry swallowed hard, gripping the side of the boat. "I'm not the best on water," he confessed, attempting a weak smile. "You ever get seasick, Finn?"
Amelia jumped in before Finn could respond. "Finn's a son of Florida. Grew up with the swamps as his backyard. I doubt seasickness is in his vocabulary. "
Finn smirked, shaking his head. "Well, I didn't spend all of my time in the swamps, but yeah, I'm pretty comfortable on the water."
Amelia's eyes sparkled with mirth. "I always imagined you out there among the gators, playing a banjo."
"And I always thought all English people walked around in bowler hats, discussing the Empire," Finn retorted, an amused grin on his face.
Their banter was interrupted as Finn's gaze drifted downriver, landing on a significant obstruction. A mass of broken trees and debris had formed a natural dam, blocking the river's flow and creating a chaotic tangle of branches and leaves. It was what he had seen from upriver. He could feel it in in his bones that something would have washed up down there.
"There it is," Finn murmured, pointing out the blockage to the others. "Looks like the flood's aftermath has created quite a barrier."
Ulman, following Finn's gaze, nodded solemnly. "The water's receding now, but it's left quite a mess. We'll have to be careful navigating around that."
As they approached the blockage, the boat's engine hummed lower, and Ulman expertly maneuvered the vessel through the maze of floating debris. The proximity to the obstruction allowed them to take in the full extent of the flood's fury. Limbs of trees jutted out like the arms of drowning giants, and the air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and rotting vegetation.
Amelia leaned forward, her detective's instincts on high alert. "I hope no one got caught up in that," she said, her voice tinged with a mixture of professional curiosity and underlying sorrow.
Mulberry, now slightly green, clutched his stomach but remained focused on the task at hand. "God, I hope not," he said, his voice a bit strained. "It's just branches and broken debris, isn't it?"
The boat slowed to a crawl as they neared the bank, the engine's purr barely audible over the sound of the water lapping against the hull. As the boat stopped, Finn, Amelia, and Mulberry stepped onto the bank, each lost in their thoughts about the grim task ahead. Ulman soon followed.
Finn's keen eyes caught a glimmer amid the tangled mass of trees and debris. It was subtle, almost hidden, but unmistakably there. "Hold on, there's something there," he called out, pointing towards the jumble of broken branches.
The group cautiously moved closer to the obstruction, their steps deliberate and measured. The sound of the river, now subdued, provided a grim backdrop to their exploration.
Climbing onto the pile, Finn balanced himself precariously among the twisted limbs and sodden leaves.
"Careful, Finn," Amelia said.
As Finn delved deeper into the mass, a heart-wrenching sight unfolded before him—a woman's body entwined within the debris. Her arm was extended upward, her hand frozen in a desperate reach towards the sky. Finn's heart sank at the sight, the tragedy of her final moments etched into her lifeless pose.
"There's a body," Finn said, mournfully. "Another woman, in her thirties. I'd say. She isn't wearing a top, so I think that sweater forensics found upriver is probably hers."
Mulberry looked down at the ground as though overwhelmed. Finn could see that he wasn't experienced with this much death. Unfortunately, Finn and Amelia were.
