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if you get my drift,” he said, refocusing on what he needed from the PI. “I don’t know what to make of it. Claire Carter—that’s her name—thinks something’s happened to her husband, Carl. I’m not convinced and neither is the deputy assigned to the case, so I want you to do a little digging. It’s right up your alley, rats and garbage included. I’m betting the guy left an electronic trail an individual with your talents could easily follow, judging by the evidence of ineptness.”
    “Hmm. Sounds interesting.” Jimbo broke off for a moment. “I’ll do it, but it’ll cost you. Give me a social and a few other facts. You know , the usual. Then I’ll get to work.”
    “Call you back in five with that.”
    After hanging up, Jason turned to Claire, who still stared unseeingly at the water. The haunted expression hadn’t left her face, nor had she seemed to move a muscle, except somehow her shoulders appeared even more hunched.
    He observed her for several minutes. She didn’t possess Crystal’s brashness, but maybe she had some cunning that surpassed her sister’s. At that thought, he pulled a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck, wishing he wasn’t such a cynical bastard.
    He valued honesty, but he’d learned the hard way that most people lie, especially his clients. At this point in his jaded life, he tended to believe the worst in people, mainly because he saw people at their worst, an occupational hazard.
    And hell, he had to admit eleven years with his own ex-wife had taken their toll. No one could live with Elise Roberts for any amount of time and not come out of the experience feeling a little singed.
    He sighed and headed toward Claire. “I need some personal information on your husband, and my guy will get busy.”
    She startled and turned her gaze on him. “Of course,” she said softly. “I’ll be right back.”
    In moments, she came racing up the steps with an index card and held it out. “This has a few pertinent facts. If you need anything else, I can call my assistant.”
    He glanced at the card, impressed at the wealth of information it held. “I wish more people were as organized as you.”
    “I keep it in my emergency kit.” She offered a rueful smile. “I tend to be anal about details.”
    “Good,” Jason murmured as he took out his cell phone. “I’ll just make this call, and we can talk about where we go from here.” He started for the bow to call Jimbo.
    Moments later, he stuck the phone in his pocket and headed back for her. “Well, that’s done.”
    “So, now what?” she asked, her head held high.
    “Now we let Jimbo work his magic. In the meantime, we’ll sail back to the marina and meet with this Deputy Snyder.”
    “Does that mean you think maybe something’s happened to Carl?”
    “Something like that.” The hope in her voice stopped him from being brutally honest with what he really thought. “Jimbo will figure it out. He just needs a little time.”
    “Thank you.”
    The heartfelt tone in the two words stirred an uncomfortable sense of familiarity. He ignored the signal and fiddled with the anchor line while Claire moved to the helm and started the diesel engine.
    “Let me go forward a bit. There’s a winch to help pull when it’s free,” she said.
    The boat shifted, allowing slack in the line. Jason leaned over and easily tugged the anchor free before cranking the winch. Once the anchor was secured, he hoisted the mainsail, watching the canvas fill with air before progressing to the bow. He worked the jib, unfurling it after attaching the sheets.
    Claire turned off the motor. All he could hear was the sound of the water lapping against the sides of the sailboat as it lurched and began picking up speed, propelled by the power of the wind. The steady breeze and fairly flat seas made it a perfect day for sailing. In Jason’s mind, there was nothing better than being out on the water under full sail on a perfect day.
    She was a