Page 50 of Nightshade

“Yes, I keep it at the CYC.”

“CYC?”

“The California Yacht Club. Ask your next question.”

“When you’re not sailing theEmerald Seaback and forth, you use the Express?”

“Most of the time. Sometimes I take a helicopter. I can provide receipts if that’s what you’re getting at, but this is silly. Why would I take the damn statue?”

“I don’t think you did, sir. As I said, you’re not a suspect. I’m here because I think you can help me.”

“How, Sergeant Stillwater? I don’t understand where you’re coming from.”

“It’s Stilwell.”

“Whatever. What exactly do you want from me, Sergeant Stilwell?”

“When I was reviewing video from the harbor cameras, there was some unusual activity with your boat on the days we’re looking at. I’d like—”

“What are you talking about? What unusual activity?”

“In the middle of the night, someone took a skiff from the club to your boat, stayed there for a short time, then went back to the club. Would you know who that was and what it was about?”

“Myboat? Are you sure?”

“Not a hundred percent, no. There was another boat moored next to it, but it appeared that theEmerald Seawas where the skiff landed.”

“What boat was moored there?”

“It was called theAventura.”

“I don’t know it.”

“Did you know that on Monday the nineteenth, someone took theEmerald Seaout of the harbor and then returned it a short time later?”

“I did not.”

“Did you authorize anyone to take the boat out, maybe just to run the engines?”

“I did not. And the engines run fine. But what does this have to do with the sculpture? Connect the dots, Sergeant.”

Stilwell looked at Colbrink for a long moment before answering. He needed his cooperation and the only way to get it was to reveal the true nature of his investigation. That was a risk. He wasn’t sure if he could trust the man, and that could cost him if Ahearn caught up to his moves.

He leaned forward on the couch, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together in a pose that put him closer to Colbrink and hopefully signaled the need for confidentiality.

“What I need is to get on your boat,” he said.

“Why?” Colbrink demanded, sounding more confused than combative now.

“Leigh-Anne Moss is missing. I came across the bay today to go to the apartment she lives at when she’s not on the island. But she hasn’t been there. Add that to the body we pulled from the bottom of the harbor Friday, and I think you see the dots connecting, Mr. Colbrink. Decomposition was extensive. As of now, there is no ID. It’s a female, but that’s as far as we’ve come in making an identification.”

“I appreciate your candor but it doesn’t answer my question. Why do you want to get on my boat?”

Again Stilwell hesitated. But he saw no other way to keep the momentum of his investigation going.

“The body in the harbor was in a sail bag,” he said. “A bag for a jib sail. It was weighted with a twelve-pound stainless-steel plow anchor. I want to get on your boat to see if either of those items are missing.”

“And you want to do this without a warrant?”

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