He leaned down to talk at the cell phone. “Marty, is there anyone I can talk to who can confirm this?”

“And clear your name?” added Chip.

There was a pause before Marty spoke. “I think so, yes. Talk to Courtney Holmes – she’s the CEO’s secretary. She can’t afford to lose her job, but if you promise to protect her, she might tell you everything. She has access to all of the emails, the meetings – everything.”

Steel’s face lit up. Chip knew it was only because he could see the dollar signs, the discount he was about to get, but it didn’t matter. He was on the case.

“Thanks for seeing me, Steel.” Chip stood, shaking his hand. “I should be getting back.”

“Hey, I’ll have to visit you sometime,” Steel said brightly, his mood again buoyant.

“Yeah,” Chip replied. He knew it would never happen. If all went well, he’d never have to see Steel Montgomery again. “I’d be happy to host you…on a non-smoky day.”

Steel laughed, patting him on the shoulder. “Same old Chip.”

Chapter Twenty-eight

The boat coasted toward The Grand Madrona Hotel’s dock and Claire stood, watching. It seemed like Hank wasn’t in any special hurry when he pulled up. He smiled and waved, the sun illuminating his face.

“Hop in!” yelled Margie. “It’s a little bumpy out there, but Hank thinks we’ll make it just fine.”

Claire forced a smile and stepped onto the boat with a hand from Hank.

“Now,” he said, crossing his arms. “Do either of you ladies want to tell me what’s going on?”

Margie tightened her scarf. “Why would you think something’s going on?”

“Well,” he said slowly, “your voice keeps getting shaky and I caught you staring off into the horizon with a glassy look in your eyes.”

Margie frowned. “I did not get a glassy look in my eyes!”

“It’s okay, Margie,” said Claire. “You can tell him.”

“Tell him what?” she asked innocently.

Claire took a seat. The choppiness of the water was making her feel ill. “I’m sure you’ll hear all about it soon, Hank. Lucy was just arrested by the FBI.”

“That’s a doozy,” he said casually. “FBI, huh?”

She nodded. “Yep.”

He looked down at her. “Does this have anything to do with that guy they’ve been looking for?”

Claire nodded. “It does.”

“That’s quite enough!” said Margie, pushing buttons until the boat’s engine started. “Hank, if you ask anything else then you’re going to be involved. I know you don’t like getting involved.”

He waved a hand, taking over the steering wheel. “I’m not going to ask any more questions. I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough.”

Claire smiled. He seemed unworried by it all – so different from Margie. “Are you going to turn me in, Hank?”