She tapped the notebook against her thigh. Nervous energy. “He called you. Told you to get down here, right? He’s up to his neck in this. You know how I know? Because suddenly he’s nowhere he’s supposed to be. I sent uniforms to his place. He’s not there. He works at a diner, but he isn’t there, either. And now, conveniently, you’re saying you have no idea where he could be.”

“That’s what I’m saying.” I scanned the slips. “Did you call Tim’s family? Did they show up?” All I saw milling around were cops and a few stunned-looking people who appeared to have stumbled off their own boats to take a closer look at the ruckus. “Maybe his concerned brother would have reason to break in and take a look around.”

Marta groaned. “You’re exasperating, you know that? Get off my crime scene.”

“Your crime scene? It’s a B and E. Or have you branched out from homicide?”

Marta looked like she hadn’t slept in days. The bags under her eyes were pronounced. It was the job, I knew. If you did it well, it left you very little in the tank. She heaved out an exhausted breath. “Second case you’ve horned in on, in as many months. What gives?”

“I didn’t go looking for it, it came to me. But something smells fishy here, and I don’t mean that literally. Somebody was looking for something tonight. That doesn’t get you thinking?” I straightened some, bracing, realizing I was about to step out on ice as thin as fairy glass. “I think you closed too early, based on misinformation.”

The cop face was back, and funny thing was, I couldn’t blame her. If someone had just questioned my handling of a case, second-guessed the way I’d played it, I’d have taken offense, too.

“The Ayers family is used to getting things their way, so they applied pressure,” I said, treading lightly.

“You’ve got it all figured out, that it?”

“Not by half.”

“The boat got broken into because this marina’s got piss-poor security my ten-year-old could get around in his sleep,” Marta said. “Your pal Byson, for whatever reason, took that as an open invitation to walk off with whatever he wanted when no one was looking. That’s what I’m going with.”

“It wasn’t Jung . . . and what’s with the ‘when no one was looking’? Eldon Reese is always looking. The little pissant’s looking now. That’s his problem. That’s the whole marina’s problem. Everybody over there’s minding somebody else’s business.”

Marta took a step forward, leaned in. “It’s Byson, or at least you think it might be. That’s why you’re standing here and blowing smoke up my ass until you have a chance to talk to him yourself. It’s what you do.”