Page 118 of Nightshade
“We can go fishing,” she said. “That’ll be fun.”
“Then we’ll rent a boat. Or we could charter. I know this guy who works on a charter over there.”
“No, just you and me. Maybe just use my kayak and a rental for you.”
“That’s good too.”
It appeared he’d successfully weathered the rough seas of guilt and dishonesty. But like a gambler who wants to make one more bet, Stilwell pushed his whole stack of chips into the pot.
“Can I ask you something?” he said. “It’s work-related.”
“What?” Tash said gamely.
“Do you know who Daniel Easterbrook is? Do you ever deal with him directly?”
“I know him because he’s a boat owner. Uh, I deal with him occasionally. Why? He’s got a nice boat.”
“He’s the guy I went to see last night.”
“In Pasadena? I didn’t know that’s where he lived.”
“Well, South Pasadena now. What is your take on him? Good guy? Bad guy?”
“Well, you can hardly tell by the sort of interactions we have with the boat owners. But they generally fall into two categories. You’ve got your rich, entitled guys who treat you like you’re there solely to give them what they want, and you’ve got the ones who don’t. Mr. Easterbrook is definitely in the second camp. He seems like a nice guy. He always says thanks over the radio when he works with the tower or the pilot boats. Why? Is he mixed up with the girl with the purple hair?”
“He knew her. Well.”
“Is he a suspect?”
“Maybe. At least a person of interest.”
He realized he should not be talking to her about the case.
“What kind of boat does he have?”
“Uh, I think it’s a Hylas. Fifty-plus feet. It’s super-nice.”
“That a yacht or a sailboat?”
“Sail.”
“Oceangoing? Could he make it to Tahiti?”
“If he knows what he’s doing. Those ocean sloops can easily cover two hundred miles in a day. But that’s still a long journey.”
A long journey Easterbrook would now have to make on his own. Stilwell wondered if he should risk checking in with Sampedro about the interview he’d said he and Ahearn would conduct with Easterbrook. He knew that he might wind up in another confrontation with Ahearn. He decided it was too soon. He had only told Sampedro about Easterbrook a few hours earlier. He would wait until the next morning to check in.
“What about Charles Crane over at the Black Marlin?” he asked. “Do you ever deal with him?”
“Oh, yeah, every now and then when there’s a complaint about something in the harbor from a member of the club,” Tash said. “He’ll call us up and explain the member’s complaint. He’s definitely in the first camp I was talking about.”
“Crane is, or the members who complain?”
“Crane, and we kind of laugh about it. Because he always acts all entitled, and he’s just a glorified servant, if you ask me. He’s not the rich guy but he sure acts like he is.”
“You remember any sort of complaint in particular?”
Stilwell felt and heard the engines throttle down as the ferry approached the mouth of Avalon Harbor. He had been on the Express so many times that he knew this meant they were ten minutes from docking. Neither he nor Tash made a move to get up from their seats.
