this one was newer, and slightly larger, and cared for meticulously.
He cut the engine when we were still in the protection of the harbor, with the steady rise and fall of the sea below, and all you could hear was the hull dipping in and out of the water, the water gently lapping against the sides. “It’s nice,” I said, meaning the boat.
“It’s going to turn soon,” he said, looking up at the sky, then back at the water. Both were in shades of dark blue, but the wind blew in from offshore with an unexpected chill. Fall storms approached like that, with a colder current from both the sky and the sea. “What is it you wanted to ask me, Avery?” He sat across from me, bare feet and khaki shorts, arm slung on the back of the seat, every word and mannerism chosen with care. Like he was pretending to be the person I thought I knew.
I knew the dangers of the water, had known them half my life, growing up here. But I had not considered the dangers inside other people. That kept me from trusting myself. Wondering what else I’d gotten wrong.
“Your picture was on her phone,” I said, circling cautiously rather than asking outright.
His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t move. “What phone?”
“Sadie’s phone. They found it. I found it. At the Blue Robin.” I watched him carefully as I spoke, looking for a tell in his expression.
His face remained impassive, but the rise and fall of his chest paused—he was holding his breath. “When?”
“When I went to check the property, after the break-in.”
His eyebrows rose sharply. “You mean when I was there with you?” His voice dropped lower, and I knew I’d struck a nerve. I didn’t answer, and he closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I don’t know what you expect me to say.”
“I expect you to . . . I want you to tell me the truth,” I said, my own voice rising. To anyone nearby, it would’ve sounded like a one-sided conversation: me, growing louder; Connor, falling softer. Both of us on edge. “You told me at the house that you weren’t seeing her. But your picture is on her phone. And you were on this boat together. Someone saw you last year, which I guess you could’ve tried to explain away, but Sadie had your picture. Why else would she take your photo if she didn’t . . .” I took a deep breath, said what I’d come here to say. “You lied, Connor. You lied to the police, and you lied to me.”
“Don’t get all sanctimonious on me, Avery. Not you.” His lip curled, and he stood abruptly, pacing the small open deck. We were alone on a boat in the middle of the harbor. I looked around for other vessels, but Connor had picked a secluded area. To anyone else, we were just a blur in the distance, as they were to us. “I told the police this,” he said. “She paid me to take her out once, for a tour. That’s all.”
“Your number is in her phone. With an asterisk. Try again.”
He stopped pacing, fixed his eyes on mine. “Once,” he said. “Just once,” he repeated, like he was begging me to understand something more. But I wasn’t catching on. He ran a hand through his hair, squinted at the glare of sun off the water. “She found me on the docks. Called me by name, like she knew who I was already.”
“She did know,” I said quietly.
He nodded. “She asked how much it would be to take her on a private tour.” He frowned. “I don’t like to do private tours so much, honestly. Not just one person, and not someone like her.”
“Like what?”
He widened his eyes, like I knew better, and I did. “But,” he continued, “she told me a friend had given her my name. I assumed it was you.” His gaze met mine, waiting, and I shook my head just slightly. “You didn’t give her my number?” he asked.
“I didn’t.” He looked out at the sea again, like he was thinking something through. “You gave her the tour?” I asked, dragging his attention back.
“Yeah. I did it right then. She had the cash on her, more than I usually would’ve charged, but I wasn’t gonna complain. She asked me to tell her about the islands, all the stories from the charter tours, you know?” He shrugged. “Guess that’s why she came to me.”