Page 54 of Girl Lost
“He seems nice.” Luna studied Morales, seeing the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. His hand trembled as he reached for a pen and jotted down a note.
Corbin waved a hand in front of his face. “He wears too much cologne.”
Her throat worked as she fought back a laugh. Corbin, jealous? Of a guy like Fuentes, dripping in gold and cologne?
“Back to the boat graveyard.” Corbin crossed his arms. “How’d you find out about that place?”
“What’s with all the questions about the boat graveyard?” Morales dabbed at his forehead with his shirtsleeve. “Something happen out there?”
Corbin’s expression remained neutral. “Just routine inquiries.”
“Look, I don’t even remember how I heard about the place.” Morales gestured vaguely. “It was years ago. A buddy mentioned it.”
“A buddy?” Morales was lying again. Luna could tell. The guy was a terrible liar.
“One of my employees, okay?” Morales finally admitted. “He used to work at another shop down the coast. Knew about the place. Said they used to scavenge parts out there.”
“And I’m guessing none of you had permission to do that,” she said.
“Does it really matter?” Morales spread his hands. “It’s a graveyard. Those boats are just rotting away.”
Carlie’s shallow grave flashed through her mind. The scent of damp earth and decay.
“I’m not really concerned about you stealing boat parts, Mr. Morales.” Corbin kept his tone even. “We’re looking for people who’ve been there recently.”
Morales hesitated, then shook his head. “Look, if I could tell you, I would. I don’t keep tabs on every beach bum who wanders out there.”
“Except your surfer friends.” Luna raised a brow. She wondered if Corbin noticed the subtle twitch in the corner of Morales’s mouth.
“Brock? Yeah, well, he’s family.” Morales shrugged. “He’s trying to start his own little repair service. I threw him a bone. Figured it wouldn’t hurt.”
Corbin pulled out his phone. “And the employee who told you about it. What’s his name?”
Morales told him.
Corbin took his time typing notes into his phone. “We’ll be in touch, Mr. Morales.” He tucked his phone away.
“Anytime,” Morales said, though his smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“Dead end for now,” Corbin said as they walked to the car. “I’ve got someone pulling property records. We’ll find out who owns the boat graveyard.”
She opened the passenger door and paused. Through the shop window, she saw Morales, already on the phone, one hand cupped over the mouthpiece. “Who you think he’s calling first? Brock or Fuentes?”
“Or someone else. Someone with a vested interest in keeping the boat graveyard’s secrets buried.” Corbin settled behind the wheel and started the engine.
“You worried about Fuentes and his special catering request?” She clicked her seat belt and glanced at him.
“I’ve got enough on my plate right now.” Corbin pulled out of the parking lot. “I’ll mention it to another agent.” He glanced at her. “You hungry? I haven’t eaten all day.”
Food. The thought of it made her stomach churn. Those images from the boat graveyard, those shallow graves, were seared into her mind. After seeing that, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be hungry again. But ... she hadn’t eaten all day either. And her body needed fuel. “Actually, yeah, I could eat.”
He navigated the streets, heading toward the coast. “All right, we’ll grab some food. But first, I want to take a peek at Morales’s other shop.”
Always thinking one step ahead. She had to give him that. His instincts were sharp.
Ten minutes later, they pulled up outside a sprawling marina. Dozens of luxury yachts were moored to the docks. Fiberglass hullsgleamed in the moonlight. Lights twinkled on the decks, reflecting their colors on the dark water.
Corbin shut off the engine. “Let’s take a look around.”
