Sawyer felt foolish for asking.
“Awesome,” Sawyer said. “I’ll be sure to check it out when he gets back.”
“He’ll be gone a day or two,” Aurin said. “But he’ll be very interested to know you were asking about him.”
Uhhhh...
“Yeah, that’s not what I...”
Otis cleared his throat from across the store, and Aurin seemed to take the hint to shut up.
Sawyer gave him a nod. “Thanks for the coffee.”
He grabbed a few things from the store, including some small tins of tuna for his new furry friend, and once he was back at the station, he decided to do some homework on Ciaran’s antiques store and shipwreck diving.
He had all the current documentation and licenses, was registered with the appropriate industries, and, from what Sawyer could see, was totally legit.
Sawyer wasn’t entirely sure he believed that, though. Yet, he had no clue why he didn’t. Carpenter had suggested it was a possible front for something, and maybe that was clouding his judgement.
What he did find out was that Ciaran Brenner was twenty-nine years old and had been born in Launceston Hospital. Only child, parents deceased, left school as soon as he could. Had a license to drive a boat but not a car, which might explain why he’d never had so much as a parking ticket or speeding fine.
When Sawyer realised he liked the fact Ciaran was only three years younger than him, he growled at himself for being stupid and made himself stop thinking about him.
Focusing on work instead, he tried calling Ginny McIntyre again, fully expecting it to go to voicemail, but this time she answered.
“Look,” she said instead of hello. “I don’t know how you found me, not without abusing your policing boundaries, anyhow, but I won’t tell you where he is.”
Sawyer scowled. “Ms McIntyre,” he tried.
“He’s fine, and he’s safe,” she said. “That’s all you need to know. He’s not missing, he’s not a danger to himself or to anyone else. He’s living his best life as far away from that town and as far away from that ocean as possible.”
Hmm. Weird.
“That’s what I’m calling about,” Sawyer said. “I’ve taken his post in Tenebrae Cove. I found the note he hid for me.”
The phone jostled as if she’d changed hands, and then her voice became a whisper. “You should get out while you still can. That town messed him up. Those... people. If that’s what you can even call them.”
If that was what he could call them? What else would he call them?
“They messed him up,” she went on. “Fucked with his head. He’s not crazy, and he’s not into conspiracy shit. But what he told me... the things he saw. I trust my cousin, just so you know. He’s never told a lie in his life, so when he said...”
“When he said what?” Sawyer prompted.
“There are things in that town, Detective. Things that aren’t right. If you value your sanity, you’ll leave.”
Sawyer ran a hand over his face and sighed. Maybe Rickyhadsuccumbed to isolation madness. Maybe his cousin Ginny wasn’t far behind him. But either way, she wasn’t giving up Ricky’s contact details.
Just then, the black cat that had declared itself owner of the station sauntered over to the jail cell, slipped through the bars, and jumped up onto the bed.
“Get off that,” he hissed, getting up. “Sorry, Ginny. I’ll let you go. The damn cat?—”
She gasped. “A black cat?”
He stopped walking. “Yes. Why?”
She laughed, a humourless sound. “My cousin spoke of it. He said...”
“He said what?”
