Redhead. Big boobs. A briefcase and suit. Not a hooker. I looked over the lot, the traffic and skyline beyond it. “There are oil paintings on board. I assume they’re Tim’s?”

“Lighthouses?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure. He had a thing for them. Something about desolation and resilience, he said once. They’re kind of cool, I guess. He left me one, something to remember him by. I told you he’d started to give things away. Now I don’t know if I want it. Too sad, you know? Besides, I don’t know much about art. Teo knows more.”

“Teo?”

“Teo Cantu. He and Tim were together for a while. He’s an artist, too, but not lighthouses, more experimental. Teo’s too far out there for me.”

My eyes narrowed. How “far out there” did you have to be to be “too far-out” for Jung?

“How recently were they together?”

Jung shrugged, thought about it. “I think they broke up right about the time Tim found out he was sick. Some people can’t deal, you know?”

I flicked a glance toward the office. “What did Tim ever say about Cap, the guy in the office?”

“That he was a drunken bully who was always ragging on him. Tim thought he was a creep, too. He said he’d see him walking around the marina at all hours like he was looking for somebody. My theory? He was stealing stuff from the boats, but I don’t think anybody ever reported anything missing. At least Tim didn’t mention it. He’s just a creepy old guy.”

“Did Tim mention Cap’s back room?”

Jung’s brows knit together. “What back room?”

I frowned. “Never mind. Tim’s brother, Stephen, was here a few days before he died. He told Cap the same thing he told the police about Tim suffering from depression and having a rough past.”

Jung thrust himself out of the car, eyes blazing. “That son of a bitch.”

I stepped backward to avoid getting swiped by rust.

Jung pulled at his spiky hair, grabbing tufts of it in clenched fists. “What’s he think he’s playing at? First he tells the police that crap, now he tells the same to this guy? That backstabbing little . . . I’m going to . . .” Jung reached for the door handle, and I blocked him.

“Stop right there. You’re going to do absolutely nothing.”

Jung tried going around me, but I blocked him again, gently holding him back. “Let me go,” he said. “He’s making Tim sound crazy. He wasn’t.”