Laura came in and sat down, looking exactly as Darragh imagined her: a small giantess with an ugly scowl, facial scars, and broad pectoral muscles more than breasts. Even sitting, the top of Darragh’s head only reached Laura’s chin. She was massive.

  “We hear you and Kevan were an item once upon a time,” Darragh lied. He hoped to provoke something interesting out of her.

  Laura’s lip curled in disgust. “Bitches lie. He just used me for cover.”

  “Cover for what?”

  “For whatever his real tastes were. He’d pretend he was in love with me when the guys were around, but when it was just me and him, I might as well not exist. He didn’t want me any more than I wanted him. It was just a show for the guys.”

  “So what was your relationship to Kevan?”

  “Are you not listening? None. Zero. He was a bug, too pathetic to squish. I don’t care he’s dead. I just want off this ship. I haven’t had a decent meal in weeks.”

  “Well, the sooner we close this investigation, the sooner you can get yourself a nice, hot meal, so help us out. Why do you think Kevan was murdered?”

  Laura’s eyes wandered the walls thoughtfully. “Probably because he was a shitheel. Dishonest. Disrespectful. Mean-spirited. As for who killed him, probably someone he pushed too far. I know he was blackmailing Jonny, for example.”

  “Really? Jonny failed to mention that. Do you know what Kevan had on Jonny?”

  She shrugged. “No idea. But Kevan loved to dangle the knowledge, torment him in front of the others. We all wondered too. I guess now we’ll never know.”

  “That’s interesting. So you think Jonny killed Kevan?”

  “I didn’t say that. I don’t know who killed Kevan, and I don’t care. He probably had it coming.”

  Darragh crossed his arms. “Fine. Go wait upstairs until we tell you you can go. And send Jonny back down here. We’d like another word with him. Now.”

  Laura’s scowl deepened, but she left.

  Darragh turned to see Win watching him with a penetrating gaze. Under Win’s empathic lens, the seed of Darragh’s dread grew wild and fast. Darragh tried to clear his mind, but the harder he tried, the more anxious he became, paranoid that Win was reading his thoughts. He gulped and then asked Win for his report.

  At first, Win didn’t answer. He stared at Darragh, silent and inscrutible, studying him, measuring him, all with a placid expression. Finally, Win spoke cordially. “From her, I sensed indifference and overwhelming resentment. She wasn’t lying.”

  Darragh made no outward reaction. Privately, he was spiraling. A tense moment passed in heavy silence until Jonny stepped into the galley looking distressed.

  Like before, Jonny spoke fast and without question.

  “Okay, look, he wasn’t blackmailing me, alright? That’s just how I dealt with him. I threw him some coins; he’d leave me be for a voyage.”

  For the first time mid-interrogation, Win spoke, “I’m detecting some dishonesty, Jonny. I sensed you were hiding something the last time we spoke. What did Kevan have over you, Jonny?”

  “Nothing!”

  “It must have been pretty bad to murder him,” Darragh spoke quickly before Win could take the lead on the interrogation.

  “I didn’t kill him!”

  “Looks like you did, Jonny. It sure looks like you did.”

  “You should be grilling that weird family! They were the ones Kevan was threatening before he died!”

  Darragh paused. In his peripheral vision, Win took a noticeable interest.

  “The passengers? We already spoke to the father. What about them?”

  “They’re weird, I tell ya! Kevan was gonna report them to you keepers as soon as we docked, but now he’s dead. Don’t you think that’s suspicious?”

  A silent instant passed.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “This is new information. Why didn’t you mention it earlier?”

  Jonny shifted in his seat miserably. “‘Cause they didn’t do nothin’ to me, and they was helpful. Not just with Kevan, but other stuff. They’re good folk.”

  Darragh glanced at Win.

  Win took the cue and ran with it. His voice was friendly. “There’s something else, isn’t there, Jonny? What else do you want to say?”

  Jonny fidgeted and shook his head. “Nope. I didn’t kill him. That’s all I’ve got to say.”

  Darragh glared and let the silence linger. Finally, he said, “Alright. Go upstairs and stay on deck until we close the case. Send down the next person.”

  Again, Darragh and Win debriefed.

  “He was definitely hiding something,” Win confirmed. “And he wasn’t being honest about the blackmail. There’s something going on there. I felt a mix of emotions, shame, fear, mostly hatred, passionate hatred, which is interesting. But I still don’t think Jonny killed Kevan. He wasn’t lying about that.”

  “What about our mysterious passenger? ‘Weird,’ he called him. What do you make of that?” Darragh asked. As he asked, Darragh dilated his perception of time to a slow crawl. Earlier, Darragh thought Win was hiding something. Now, he wanted to see Win’s reaction under ideal conditions. Tiny facial expressions could reveal a lot.

  Win’s eyes darted back and forth. His lips pressed together. His neck muscles tensed, and he seemed to stand ever more erect. When he answered, his voice was an octave lower than usual, projecting a masculine authority.

  “Jonny was just deflecting,” Win said. “He doesn’t really believe Plenty killed Kevan.”

  It was Darragh’s turn to study Win in uncomfortable silence. But there was no point to it. They weren’t equals. A mouse may as well ponder the motives of the heavens.

  Win merely smiled condescendingly, almost daring him to forget his station.

  “Hm. Still, it’s noteworthy, considering your passing strange impression of the man. Maybe we should pay the wife and daughter a visit,” Darragh mused.

  Win’s jaw clenched and he looked at his hands.

  Interesting.

  The next man walked into the galley dressed in dirty whites with rolled-up sleeves. He wore a white headband. His hair pressed back into a knot. He looked over the hill and on his way down, but still strapping. No doubt in his younger days, he had a magnetic pull.

  “You must be the ship’s cook,” Darragh said. “I don’t suppose you could rustle us up something? It’s looking to be a long night.”

  “Uh, sure thing,” the man said, then he got to work in the kitchen.

  “Thanks. I’m Keeper Darragh. This is Brother Winchester. Your name is?”

  “It’s George, but most people call me Cook.”

  “Alright then, Cook, can you tell us about Kevan? Did he have friends or enemies? What was your relationship to Kevan?”

  George glanced at Win nervously, probably wondering what Win’s affinity is, but then George focused on finding a knife to slice bread, dried meats, and cheeses. It took him a little while, like he was unfamiliar with his own kitchen. Once he found a knife and got to it, Darragh’s familiar Red strolled over to sit next to George, sniffing his work. George slipped Red a piece of meat and answered casually, absent-mindedly, with a hint of sadness.

  “Kevan had no friends. He had depositors. And he didn’t really have enemies. He weren’t so interesting as that. As for my relationship to Kevan, I suppose I was one of his depositors.”

  “What does that mean, depositor?”

  “It was his term. You see, Kevan was the boat bitch. It was one of the reasons why he was tolerated, despite his personality. These voyages keep us at sea for weeks, sometimes months at a time, and men alone at sea will do what men do.”

  Anxiety and dread bloomed in Darragh. He kept a calm appearance and took a slow breath, but he couldn’t hide his emotions from Win. Darragh slowed his perception of time for a beat to meditate and choose his next words. When he released the time hold, Darragh was composed and ready.

  “We’re investigating a murder, not sex crimes or conduct violations. But to be clear, you’re saying Kevan was a sex worker, correct?”

  “Whatever you want to call it.”

  “Did Kevan have many… depositors?”

  “Probably half the ship or more. Most will never admit to it.”

  “Was Jonny one of Kevan’s depositors?”

  “Oh, no doubt. Jonny probably paid Kevan extra to keep quiet, but that just made Kevan bolder.”

  “Do you think Jonny might have killed Kevan?”

  “Jonny? No way. The man doesn’t have it in him. I think it was the passengers.”

  “You mean Plenty, his wife, and daughter?”

  “I saw the wife use the bathroom right before the body was found. I was standing right here, and I saw her walk by.”

  “The wife? Do you know her name?”

  “No. The three of them were all secretive and weird. I’m pretty sure the father is a dark mage. The daughter, though, she’s not human. I don’t know what's going on with those folks, but I don’t trust them, and neither did Kevan. He was going to report them as soon as we docked. Told the whole crew. Looks to me like someone silenced him first.”

  George gave them both a cured ham and cheese sandwich. It tasted alright.

  “Well, thank you for your help,” Darragh said between bites. “Please wait on deck until we’ve closed our investigation. And send Plenty back down.”

  As George left, Win whispered, low and urgent, “I got some really intense emotions off of him. He acted calm, but he’s not at all. He was freaking out looking for a knife.”

  Red spoke next, “And I smelled fresh blood on his clothes. Ask him to unroll his sleeves. You’ll find blood splatter.”

  Darragh slapped his palm on the table. “Well done, both of you. We have our suspect. Red, request a detainment and transfer team.”

  Win smiled. “That was quick and easy.”

  Darragh frowned. “I’m not ready to close this yet. Let’s go meet the family.”