Patrick nodded. He looked back across the water, toward the wharf. T.J. was right—it looked very peaceful from out here. A sleepy little town right at the base of a seaside mountain. So why did Patrick feel anything but at peace? There was Jessica walking Flora—he saw them on the inn lawn. The shop door was open, but Marisa was still nowhere in sight.

“So, do you live in town?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at T.J.

“Yes—an apartment just above the ferry office, by the dock. Why?”

“I figured you might know some of the characters who hang around the waterfront.”

T.J. laughed. “Most of them are Neills. That's the family that owns half the town. Anne's the innkeeper, Jude operates the whaleboats, and Liam runs an oceanographic program. He's away, though.”

Patrick nodded knowingly, in his seasoned-cop way. “I know Liam,” he said. “Actually, the person I'm interested in is Gerard Lafarge.”

T.J.'s expression changed, his guard suddenly up.

“What about him?”

“I'll be straight with you. I'm investigating his whereabouts.”

“What for? What do you want to know about a lowlife like him for? What's he done? And—for that matter—why are you asking me?”

Patrick had clearly lost some of his edge. During his years of following the Mara Jameson disappearance, none of his interrogation subjects would have asked more questions than he did.

“Look,” Patrick said. “I'm just a retired cop, doing a favor for Liam.”

“Oh,” T.J. said, relaxing again. “For Liam, no problem. Liam's a great guy, a true conservationist. The opposite of the Lafarge bunch. Those guys think natural resources were put on earth just for their personal use. They're the most unethical fishermen I've ever seen—and making my living on the water, I've seen lots of fishing practices.”

“Do you have any idea where Gerry might be right now?”

T.J. peered out, seeming to gaze over the flat, pewter bay. “Funny you should ask,” he said. “I've heard things lately.”

“Like what?”

“Someone said he was down south, fishing a reef in Rhode Island.”

“That's pretty far to go, isn't it?”

“Not for Lafarge—not if there's money in it.”

“What kind of money could there be there?”

“I don't know. I've heard about some monster waves, driven inshore by the tail end of a hurricane. They began breaking over the reef, bringing lots of unusual fish into the area.”

“Yeah, Liam mentioned that,” Patrick said. “But half the species are from up here—northern waters. Lots of sharks, I guess, plus a bunch of marine mammals that are off-limits to fishermen anyway.”

“Lafarge doesn't care what comes up in his nets,” T.J. said, shaking his head.