Free Vanished by Jordan Gray Page A

What’s this?” Rohan reached into a metal crevice in the boat and pulled out an open pocket knife. “There’s blood on this.”
    â€œPut it down, Rohan. That’s probably the murder weapon.”
    Rohan dropped it instantly.
    Naomi’s muffled voice said, “Willie used that to cut our bacon rolls. That’s all I know. I didn’t see anything. I didn’t hear anything.”
    Well, no, Michael thought, she wouldn’t have, wouldshe, sleeping off the effects of the drugs in the cabin below deck?
    Then he remembered Daisy Coffey’s voice saying, “She had a row with Willie that set my crockery to rattling.” Although that might not have been Naomi at all, but the mystery blonde woman. And even if it had been Naomi, it didn’t mean she’d killed the man.
    â€œI’m sorry,” she said. “Dylan, I’m so sorry.”

CHAPTER SIX
    M ICHAEL AND M OLLY SAT side by side on the blue plastic chairs of the hospital’s casualty department waiting room. Even though this was hardly the time and place to be angry, she couldn’t resist a mild, “You didn’t have to rush off to a crime scene like that.”
    â€œDylan needed my help. So did Naomi. It was just the scene of the crime, not a crime in progress.”
    â€œI know,” she said. “I’m glad for that much.”
    â€œI suppose Fred’s running with the story, as he always does?”
    â€œOh, yeah.” Fred had been waiting at the pier when the Blackpool constabulary, for once working with commendable efficiency, brought Willie in and transported him to St. Theresa’s hospital. “I figured if I didn’t tell him about poor Naomi, he’d get a twisted version from Daisy or Rebecca Hislop or someone.”
    â€œA little bit of spin, is that it?” While Michael’s words were teasing, his tone was grim.
    With a sigh of both affection and aggravation, Molly massaged the tight tendons in the back of his neck. “I know, I know, we didn’t intend for any of this to happen. Maybe the person who attacked Willie didn’t intend for it to happen, either.”
    â€œI wouldn’t bet on that,” said Michael.
    The door labeled Staff Only Past This Point swung open, and a man clad in a white coat and wearing astethoscope plodded through. His thick glasses turned from side to side, and his high forehead furrowed beneath thinning strands of gray-blond hair. “Michael Graham, is it? And Molly? I’m Dr. Harvey Parker.”
    Michael and Molly stood up and shook Dr. Parker’s hand, which was dry and squeaky-dusty—he’d just removed latex gloves. “Ah, yes, we met at the library,” Michael said, “when Mrs. Hirschfield opened the miniatures exhibition. You made several of the ships in bottles that are displayed next to Charles Crowe’s miniature of Blackpool. Well done!”
    â€œThank you.” Parker’s smile flashed like the beam of a lighthouse and then vanished. “I thought D.C.I. Paddington was here…”
    â€œI am here.” Paddington walked down the hall from the main entrance as though he was marching to his own band. “Reporters! That Jenkins fellow and Purnell are lying in wait at the porte-cochere, along with visitors who think this disturbance is a jolly good show, and even townspeople who ought to know better.”
    At that moment, Molly agreed with Michael that Paddington resembled a cross between Charlie Brown and Adolf Hitler.
    Before Molly could add her two cents—or two pence, depending—Paddington started grilling Parker. “What about Myners?”
    â€œHe died a few minutes ago. He never came round. He’d lost too much blood—there was nothing we could do.”
    Molly closed her eyes. Death. Sudden death. Another murder. She and Michael had already seen enough. She opened her eyes to find Michael’s face pale but