She fluttered her silk blouse away from the hot skin of her chest and forced herself to walk down to the edge of the river. As she approached the boat, it somehow seemed more barnacle covered, more grimy, more slimy with algae and plant growth than before, which was impossible since it had been drying out in the sun for weeks now. She stared a moment, trying to imagine what could have happened to send the boat underwater. Why did she care so much? It was just an old boat. It shouldn’t matter at all.

“Did you get the photos you needed?”

She startled. Carl was walking down the grassy slope toward her.

“I did. Thank you. I was just taking a breather before heading back to the office.”

Carl stood next to her and nodded, toed the hull of the boat with his boot. “Want to take this thing with you?”

She coughed out a laugh. “No, thanks.”

“I need it gone. No one cares about it. Whoever it belonged to, seems they wanted to sink it anyway.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Drain plugs are gone.” He leaned over and pointed. “See those two holes? One on either side of the stern. Those don’t just fall out. If it were just one, maybe it was an accident, but both? Looks to me like someone wanted this boat to go under.”

One of the workers called to Carl from the side of the house, and he waved and started that way. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“I will. Thanks.”

Liza watched him cross the yard and pause by the worker who’d flagged him. When they disappeared around the front of the house, Liza stepped closer to the boat. What is it? What am I looking for? She couldn’t shake it.

She walked a circle around the boat, seeing it from all angles, and that’s when she noticed the small door built into the side of the hull. It was only about six inches square, like a small glove box, and she would have missed it if not for the black knob sticking out. She reached down and gave the knob a tentative pull, and the door opened cleanly despite the sludge covering it. Leaning over, the boat inches from her body, its aroma of wet sand and rotten plant growth filling her nose, she peered inside the small space.

What she saw sent a jolt down the length of her spine. What are you doing here?

In stark contrast to the rest of the boat, what rested inside the small protected space was grime free, as if someone had just set it there for safekeeping.

With a quick look back to the house to make sure no one was watching, she reached inside and slipped the item into her pocket.

* * *

The Sugar Bend Public Library was housed in an old white-steepled church at the edge of downtown. Liza parked in the oyster-shell lot out front and walked inside, where the air smelled of paper and ink and history.