“They? You know who they are, then?” Cressida asked.
Braden wanted that answer too.
“If I knew, I would tell you. Didn’t I warn you? Didn’t I say it was dangerous? I wasn’t joking.”
Diggins continued down the steps, and Braden would have followed but Cressida had a look on her face. Something more had happened. Something else. The pure anger and hurt in her eyes rattled through him.
He gripped her arms. “What is it? What did he say?”
“He said ... I’m not sure your father’s death was an accident.” She pressed a hand against the rail.
Coming from her, those words slammed into him.
He wanted to tell her everything. Right now. His cell dinged, and maybe he should have ignored it, but it was his excuse to wait. He had to think about this. Figure it out. Convince Octavia that telling her daughter was for the best. He followed Cressida down the steps as he answered his cell. The words he heard chilled him to the bone.
19
My father’s death wasn’t an accident?
Someone hadmurderedhim? Cressida wanted to shake the rest out of Diggins. And right now, her gut was churning.
Cressida struggled to wrap her mind around Diggins’s words, and she stumbled to keep up with Braden, who got a call and suddenly paced the deck. Out here in the middle of the bay, she was surprised he could even get a signal. Diggins could have positioned his boat in the exact right spot.
Braden’s grim expression as he held his cell to his ear scared her.
She couldn’t get enough oxygen. Holding on to the rail, she leaned out and looked over the water, sucking in the cold, briny air. A hand pressed her shoulder and gently pulled her back. She dreaded looking at Braden but lifted her eyes.
He grabbed her hand and tugged her toward Diggins, then said to him, “You were attacked today.”
“Attacked?” Cressida studied Diggins to see his reaction to Braden’s statement. “So the bump on your head wasn’t because you fell?”
“And they came back a second time.” Braden’s face was grim, his eyes hard.
“I can handle myself,” Diggins said. “You don’t worry about me.”
“Who arethey? Why did they attack you?” Braden asked.
“I’m not pressing charges,” Diggins said.
“They attackedme, a detective, so charges are being pressed. I want to know who they are.”
Diggins shook his head, his features equally determined. “I don’t know. Even if I did, that wouldn’t do you any good.”
“I’m asking you a direct question—as a detective—and I want answers now.”
While Cressida wanted those answers for Braden, he was about to destroy her connection with Captain Diggins—a man she believed had answers she sought. Answers to a question she hadn’t even asked.
“Braden, maybe—”
“I’ll get the answers, Diggins, but I’d prefer that happened with your cooperation.” The sudden shift in attitude startled her, but she admired him all the more.
“Iamcooperating, Detective Sanders.”
Braden pursed his lips, clearly not convinced.
“I’ll be back to check on you,” Braden said. “Maybe by then you’ll have come to your senses and tell me who the assailants are.”
Cressida was surprised that Braden gave up the battle with the stubborn self-named pirate. If he hadn’t gotten that phone call, would he remain here and pressure Diggins? She wanted answers too. But that wasn’t happening. Braden urged her toward the ladder so they could climb down to the skiff.
