We drew our weapons and surveyed the vessel.
I banged on the stern. "Coconut County! Come out slowly with your hands up."
A few moments later, Chris poked his head through the hatch with terrified eyes.
"Keep your hands where I can see them!" I shouted, my weapon aimed at him.
"What's going on?"
"Is your father aboard?”
His face wrinkled. "No.”
"Step into the cockpit," I commanded. “Slowly.”
Chris did, taking uncertain steps. He was mid-30s with dark hair, dark eyes, and a narrow face. He kept himself fit but wasn't overly muscular. He stood about six feet tall.
We boarded the boat, and JD secured him, making sure he didn't have any weapons.
I cautiously poked my head through the hatch and glanced from the galley to the salon. I climbed down the companionway and cleared the area.
"What are you doing?" Chris grumbled, annoyed. "You can't search my boat without a warrant."
"Routine compliance inspection," JD said. "When was the last time you talked to your father?”
Chris shrugged. "I don't know. A couple of days ago. Why?"
"I take it you don't watch the news," Jack muttered.
I searched the boat, checking both the forward and the aft berths as well as the heads. After clearing the boat, I returned to the cockpit and asked Chris, "Where's your dad?"
"Why? Is he in some kind of trouble?"
"You could say that.”
Chris’s nervous eyes flicked between the two of us.
"He’s wanted for attempted murder. You better pray that Darrell York doesn't die."
Chris's face soured at the mention of the name. “Darrell York!?”
There was a little resemblance between Chris and Jacob, though he really favored his mother. I didn't think Paris could mistake the two. Jacob was a little taller. Chris didn't have a tattoo of Sarah's name on the inside of his right wrist.
"If you hear from your dad, get in touch with me," I said, handing him a card. "If you offer him any assistance, you’re aiding and abetting a fugitive and can be charged as an accessory after the fact. You understand me?”
He gave a reluctant nod.
“Your family's been through enough trauma already. No need to make this any worse."
Dread washed over Chris's face. "You're telling me my dad tried to kill Darrell York?”
"On live TV."
Chris took a moment to process the information.
"Do you have any idea where your father would go?”
Chris thought about it for a moment, then shrugged.
