Free A Killing Tide by P. J. Alderman

the boat to collect the insurance, you're way off base. Our boats represent a way of life to us—neither of us would ever burn our legacy. Besides, the insurance would never cover the total cost of replacement."
    "Maybe. Then again, maybe your brother had an immediate need for cash."
    "Gary's needs are simple, he lives on very little," she retorted. "And he could've opted to be bought out, which would've given him plenty of cash. He didn't—he chose to stay in. Those who do can look forward to double the catches they've had in recent years."
    "As long as the government doesn't change its quotas," Chapman pointed out. "And the government never moves that fast—Gary might've needed cash faster than he could get it from them."
    "He could always ask me for a loan if he needed it."
    "I know." Chapman was implying that he had already checked out her finances. She hated knowing someone was poking around in her life. "But would he?"
    She shifted uneasily, not admitting how perceptive the question was. When she'd suggested to Gary a week ago that she fund the worst of the repairs on the boats, he'd pitched a fit.
    "You'd be throwing good money after bad," he'd told her.
    When she didn't answer, Chapman got up to put his coffee mug in the sink. Then he walked back to the table and leaned across it, both hands braced on the surface so that she had to look up into his hard gaze. "You know where your brother is. I want to talk to him."
    She shoved her chair back abruptly and stood. Keeping her back to him, she made a production out of assembling the ingredients for a protein shake. "You're wrong—I don't have a clue where he is."
    "I find that hard to believe."
    "And even if I did know," she continued, turning to face him, her arms crossed, "I wouldn't tell you. You're not going to use me to get to him. Gary doesn't deal well with figures of authority. My guess is that he's trying to find Ken's killer, not running from the law."
    "If you believe he has nothing to hide, then convince him to come in and talk to me, tell me what he knows."
    She was shaking her head before he finished. "Gary wouldn't trust a stranger."
    Chapman had come over to stand beside her at the counter, purposely invading her personal space. Trying to rattle her. "I can have you arrested for obstructing justice. If you know something you're not telling me, I won't hesitate."
    She sent a cool look his way while she measured out protein powder and put it into the blender. "You don't frighten me, Mr. Chapman."
    "Yeah, but I sure as hell bother you," he said softly, leaning closer. Close enough that she could smell the spicy fragrance of the soap he'd used in his shower. "Now, why is that, I wonder?"
    "Don't flatter yourself." She added yogurt to the blender, mixing the two ingredients together, then tossed in a couple of handfuls of frozen fruit. She leveled a steady look at him, tapped the lid on, and flipped the switch. The blender started making a loud, grinding racket.
    After a second, Chapman reached out, hit the Off switch, and slanting an amused glance her way, fished out the spoon she'd left in.
    She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the heat creep into her cheeks. Then she busied herself pouring the shake into two glasses, holding one of them out to him. With any luck, his portion had some metal shavings in it.
    He rinsed the spoon off in the sink, using the towel lying on the counter between them to dry his hands. Taking the glass from her, he set it on the counter, then removed a long tube containing a cotton swab from his jacket pocket.
    She backed up a step. "What's that?"
    "The lab techs found a possible DNA sample on the boat this morning. I'll need yours to rule you and your brother out."
    She thought rapidly. Anyone would tell her that she was crazy to comply without consulting a lawyer, but she doubted she could find one on such short notice. The only lawyer she knew in town was the one her parents had used as executor of their will, and he'd