Page 50 of Deep Waters

Christian raced to the wardrobe, grabbing underpants, socks, jeans and a shirt. It took him seconds to pull them all on. He hurriedly shoved his feet into shoes and ran for the door. He couldn’t wait for the elevator. Going for the stairs, he bounded down, two or three steps at a time. His heart raced, but it had nothing to do with the physical exertion.

He was desperate to know that Harry was all right.

Christian’s heart seemed to fill his throat. He feared the worst. There had been two murders already this week, and the first victim had died onboardThe North Star. Had the killer returned to take revenge on the owner of the rescue boat? Was Harry more involved than they had imagined?

Christian couldn’t think straight.

He reached the ground floor and raced across the reception, almost knocking over a couple who were in the process of checking out, barrelling out of the far entrance into the alley, which cut down the side of the hotel. He raced to the seafront without pausing then pounded along the harbour.

A crowd had already gathered around the ambulance and police cars. He spotted uniformed officers pushing them back, trying to set up a perimeter.

His heart grew even heavier. There had definitely been a major incident of some sort.

He grabbed the arm of the nearest person. A woman in her sixties. “What happened? What is it?”

She shook him off and took a cautious step back. “I don’t know. They’re saying there’s been another stabbing.”

His heart grew even colder. Christian pressed the back of his hand to his mouth. His breath came in ragged gasps. “Who? Who has been attacked?”

The woman, clearly alarmed, slipped ever farther away from him. He turned to someone else, a balding man in his thirties.

“Who is it? Do you know?”

“Don’t have a clue, mate. I’m not from round here. I’m just on holiday.”

Shit.

Christian pushed into the crowd, brutally elbowing people aside, ignoring their angry protests. Someone grabbed his collar and tried to hold him back. He shook them free, battling his way to the front. His panic had reached a dangerous level. He couldn’t think of anything but Harry.

If something has happened to him… Oh God.

When he got to the front, the police had already set up a cordon to keep the crowd at bay. He grabbed the tape and tried to slide underneath. A uniformed constable stepped forward and grabbed him.

“Keep back,” the PC shouted.

Christian struggled in his grip. “You don’t understand. I need to get through.”

“No one is getting through. Unless you want me to arrest you, you need to step back.”

“Listen to me—”

The PC grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. Christian didn’t even feel the pain.

“I said get back.”

“My…my boyfriend is on that boat. I need to know what’s happened to him.”

The constable relaxed his grip a fraction but did not release him. “What do you know about this?”

Christian pointed with his free hand. “The North Star. That’s Harry Renner’s boat.”

From this distance, he could see the police and paramedics moving about on the deck. His gaze darted rapidly back and forth, searching for Harry amid the confusion.

What the hell is happening down there?

He froze.

Two paramedics carried a stretcher out of the wheelhouse. There was figure strapped in beneath a white sheet. The sheet had been drawn above the figure’s face.

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