Page 116 of The Sea Witch's Son

When I don’t respond, he chuckles knowingly, “Not the most open fellow, is he? Keeps his cards close to ensure no one can use them against him.”

“You need to in a town like this.”

He waves off my comment, “Information is the name of the game, Miss St. James, and information is what I have at my disposal. Every child who is born within these borders gets documented and tracked until they graduate college or leave town. Whichever comes sooner.”

“As mayor, I get access to all of those files. With the exception of the Dragon’s daughter, there is no one in this town I do not have access to.” He pauses, “Marlin Seaborn is the only resident who does not have a file.”

I stare at him, thinking about the empty folder I found in his filing cabinet.

“There are many stories surrounding the Sea Witch’s son. Horrifying tales that caution children from the shoreline spanning the Seaborn property.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying what everyone has been saying. A little boy went running into the water and a monster came out.” He holds up his palms, “Marlin Seaborn didn’t exist until twelve years ago. So, all of his documentation...”

“Doesn’t exist.” I finish the sentence, feeling my head swim with confusion.

“Precisely. That is why I need your help to figure out the man behind the expensive suits.”

It is a reminder. That passion is a man’s greatest downfall.

The shipwreck tattoo flashes behind my eyes. I’m seeing it from a different perspective, piecing it together with the morsels of information I’ve gathered.

The furious force of the waves. The ripped sails and the broken mast. The unrelenting pull of the anchor dragging the boat under the surface.

Dragging a little boy under the water.

“What was he running from?”

“His mother.” Anton shakes his head solemnly, “Terrible tragedy, but worst of all it leaves me with no ammunition against a potential opponent.”

The mayor seems intent on redirecting the conversation back to his problem, but I’m stuck on the revelation that has just been made.

“There’s got to be documentation somewhere. Proof of Marlin’s identity.”

“Oh, there is, but I am certainly not going to get it.” He gives me a pointed look, “It is said there is a grave that holds all the answers, but to get to it one must cross the Sea Witch’s cave.”

I frown in disbelief, “The answers you’re looking for have been within walking distance this entire time?”

“Clearly, you have never had the misfortune of crossing paths with the treacherous woman.” Anton shudders, “Nothing good has ever come from wandering across Seaborn property, and I am certainly not going to go on some wild goose chase in search of a ghost. Too many souls have been lost on that beach to deem it a worthwhile risk.”

He isn’t willing to sacrifice.

I have to force the traitorous thought aside before my expression gives me away.

“Sounds like you already have everything you need.”

“That’s where you are mistaken.” Running a hand through his hair, the gelled strands don’t so much as move, “I need to find Marlin’s weakness. Discover the flaws in his plan so I can poke holes through them before they get a chance to fly.”

I start to laugh. Anton looks taken aback, and the expression on his face only makes me laugh harder.

“Marlin Seaborn doesn’t have any weaknesses.” The lie slips through my teeth as easily as my next breath, “His only fear is water, and given he’s the best swimmer on the team, I don’t think that will help you much.”

“He must have a passion of some sort.”

“He doesn’t believe in passion.” Grabbing my purse from the couch, I stand up, “Nor is he the type of man who would willingly share a well thought-out plan. If you’re looking for a way to beat Marlin at the election, my only advice for you is good luck.”

A smile hits Anton’s lips, “You care for him.”

---