Chapter 6 - Shadows at the Marina
The North Harbor Marina smelled of diesel, low tide, and rusting iron. It was a working dock, far removed from the pristine yacht clubs Arthur had frequented.
The sky had bruised into twilight by the time I walked down Pier C. The wind off the ocean was bitter, cutting through my wool coat.
At the end of the slip sat a weathered, steel-hulled trawler named *The Albatross*. Light spilled from the cabin portholes, casting golden rings across the black water.
I climbed the narrow gangway. My legs were steady now; the trembling had stopped somewhere along the highway.
I didn't knock. I pushed the cabin door open.
Daniel was seated at a narrow wooden galley table, illuminated by a swinging halogen lamp. Arthur’s black leather ledgers lay open before him, flanked by a laptop and an empty bottle of whiskey.
He looked up, his hand instantly darting toward a drawer beneath the counter, before he froze. His gray eyes widened in genuine disbelief.
"Clara," he whispered.
"You left your money on the bed, Daniel," I said, my voice steady, ringing with authority.
I stepped down the three stairs into the cabin and tossed the ivory envelope onto the ledgers. The cash burst out, scattering over his papers.
May you like
"I am nobody's paid whore," I said. "And I am not Arthur Hayes's shield."
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