The guy laughed. “She paid for storage—and discretion. Let me know what you want to do with the boat. No rush. Storage is all paid up for a while. My name’s Frank, by the way. I own this fine establishment.”

“Thank you, Frank. For your continued discretion,” said Devin. “And I’ll keep your offer in mind. I never thought of myself as the boating type, but . . . I’ll think about it.”

“You ever been out on the water?” asked Frank. “On something other than a cruise ship or ferry?”

Devin shook his head. “Nope.”

“Then you be sure to come back when you’re not busy, and I’ll get you out there,” said Frank. “You’ll know right away if you’re the boating type or not—and god help you if you are.”

“Why’s that?” said Devin.

“Because you’ll be mortgaging your house in a few years to buy a bigger boat!”

Devin laughed. He liked this guy. If the file hidden inside the boat turned out to be a bust, he might take him up on the offer. Why the hell not?

“I’ll let you know.”

“And I’ll leave you to your business,” said Frank, saluting him before walking away.

Devin wiped the sweat off his forehead and grabbed the ladder with both hands, immediately gaining a sense of what Frank had conveyed about it. The thing felt solid, as though it had been carved from a single piece of wood. Still, he tentatively stepped on the first rung, testing it with a few bounces before pushing up with his full body weight. It was a wooden ladder, after all.

At the top of the ladder, he grabbed the nearest stanchion poles and gave them a tug to make sure they were secure before using them as leverage to climb into the boat. He stood perfectly still in the cockpit, unsure how stable the boat would be with him on board. The metal stands pressed up against the hull looked like a rickety arrangement to hold up an object that easily weighed several thousand pounds.

Sensing no movement, he moved to the salon door and stopped. Nothing. He quickly stepped to the left and right. No movement at all. He could probably jump up and down and nothing would happen, but he had no intention of doing anything but move slowly and steadily through the boat. There was nothing normal or natural about a sailboat suspended in the air.