Page 56 of The Sunken Truth
“I don’t know. Until I feel comfortable opening again, I suppose.”
Lily waited a beat, hoping he’d say more, but he looked pointedly at the harbour steps alongside the boat.
“Sorry for sneaking around,” she said sheepishly.
“I’ve heard about your investigative tendencies. It doesn’t bother me. I only hope you get some answers.”
“PC Grainger is looking into it too,” she said, hopping back onto the harbour steps. “I’m sure he’ll figure it out.”
“Fingers crossed.” Ryan tipped his head and stood with his hands on his hips as he watched her go.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Kurt livedin a one-storey annex of a family home on the corner of Silver Street. His landlady – the young mother who Flynn had met the previous day, was wrangling two small children out of the house, but paused to smile at him.
“He’s definitely home now,” she told him, casting a quick glance at Kurt’s part of the house, while the children fell silent and stared at Flynn with wide eyes. The uniform had that affect on kids. “I’ve heard him moving around this morning. The walls are paper thin.”
“Thanks.” He took a couple of steps towards Kurt’s door, then turned back to her. “Can I ask if he’s a good tenant?”
“He’s fine. We don’t see much of him, but there are no wild parties and he pays his rent on time, so that’s good enough for me.” Her brow wrinkled. “Are you sure he’s not in any trouble?” She’d asked the same question the previous day when Flynn had rung her bell to check he’d got the right place.
“No trouble. I just need to speak with him.” When she looked dubious, he decided she could use a little moreinformation. “It’s concerning the shipwreck. He was one of the divers who found it. I’m collecting information.”
“I see.” Placated, she took her children by the hands to lead them down the road.
This time, when he pressed the bell and got no answer, Flynn’s mind flicked to Eustace and his stories about cursed gold. A kernel of worry skittered in his stomach and he moved to peer in the window.
Inside, Kurt raised a hand to wave at Flynn as he crossed the room. A moment later he opened the door, his wild hair a tangled mess, and dark shadows under his eyes.
“Morning,” he said, circling his shoulders in a way that stretched his white T-shirt across his broad chest.
“I tried getting hold of you yesterday,” Flynn said.
“I had a migraine and fell into bed yesterday afternoon. Only just woke up.”
Flynn wasn’t prone to migraines, but couldn’t help but wonder if it would make you sleep so soundly that you wouldn’t hear the doorbell ringing multiple times in the afternoon.
“I have a few questions about the incident at the shipwreck yesterday. Do you mind if I come in?”
He hesitated a moment before stepping aside. Flynn walked directly into the living room and stood by the coffee table, which was littered with dirty mugs and a few plates.
“I didn’t see who cut Ryan’s hose,” Kurt said, sinking onto the couch, “So I’m not sure I can really help.”
“Can you tell me exactly what you remember about the dive? From the moment you got in the water to the time you surfaced again.”
He let out a grunt of impatience before beginning his story in a dull monotone. Boredom radiated from him as he recounted the dive.
“Then all the sand got stirred up,” he said eventually. “Ryan surfaced and we swam back along the seabed and came up by the boat.”
Flynn kept his gaze on Kurt, who maintained his passive demeanour the entire time. “Do you remember where the other divers were situated when the sand was stirred up?”
“I wasn’t paying much attention. As daft as it sounds, I was focused on looking for treasure.”
“So you didn’t notice anyone else at all?” Flynn asked with a frown.
“I know Ryan had been staying close to the wreck with that ice cream lady.”
“Lily,” Flynn said.
