“Easy,” I said. “We’re not the cops.”
“Man, let me go,” he blurted, breath already a little ragged. “I didn’t do anything. I’m not holding, I swear?—”
“I don’t care what you’ve got in your pockets,” I said. “We’re here because of what you told people you saw behind Home Port. That’s it.”
That bought me half a second. He stopped pulling, eyes flicking to Madden.
Her expression was steady, controlled. Not the hard-edged prosecutor from the other night. Just… focused.
“We’re trying to find out what happened to a girl who’s gone missing. Lacey at the marina office mentioned you’d seen something. It might help. That’s all we’re after.”
Willie swallowed. His pupils were blown, swallowing almost all the color of his irises. Whatever he’d taken wasn’t subtle.
“You promise you’re not with Carson?” he asked.
“If we were, you’d already be in cuffs,” Madden said. “We’re not looking to get you in trouble. We just need the truth.”
He looked between us again, weighing his options. There weren’t many. Jumping in the water wasn’t going to help him, and he knew it.
“Fine,” he muttered. “We can talk. Just… not right here.”
He jerked his head toward the Sea Breeze.
I let go of his arm, keeping myself between him and the ramp out of habit, not distrust. He stepped onto the boat with the easy balance of somebody used to moving on wet decks. I followed, then turned to offer Madden a hand out of reflex. She ignored it and hopped down on her own, landing light. Of course.
Willie dropped back onto a bench built into the stern, heel bouncing against the boards. Up close, the jitter in him was even more obvious. His fingers tapped an unsteady rhythm against his leg. “So, you wanna know about the girl.”
“Start with when,” I said. “The night you saw something behind Home Port.”
He scratched the back of his neck, eyes unfocusing a little as he chased the memory. “Uh. Few nights ago.”
“Few, as in two? Three? A week?” Madden’s phone was already in her hand, screen dark but ready.
He squinted. “Had that big haul of flounder. We got in late. That was… four nights ago. Yeah. Before the storm came through.”
Four nights put it two days before Priya vanished. Close, but not perfect.
“Okay,” I said. “Walk us through what happened.”
Willie blew out a shaky breath. “I was heading home. Cut through by the back of Home Port. Faster than going up by the office.”
“What time?” Madden asked.
He gave a helpless little shrug. “After midnight. Closer to one? I don’t know. We didn’t dock ’til late.”
“Had you been drinking?” I asked.
“Couple beers,” he admitted. “Nothin’ crazy.”
“Using anything else?” I kept the cop and the judgment out of my voice.
He raked a hand through his hair. “Couple hits. Took the edge off. I wasn’t… gone. But I wasn’t church clean either.”
Fine. I’d worked with worse.
“Go on,” I said.
“I hear something.” His foot sped up on the bounce against the deck. “Sounded like… scuffling? At first, I thought it was just something in the trash or some drunk guy. Then I heard this noise. Like somebody got hit hard. Or shoved. Made my stomach drop.”
