Children of the Sea 01 - Sea Witch

over her memory loss.
     
    Margred felt no guilt. No betraying blushes, no awkward hesitations, no dropped glances gave her away.
     
    She lied and smiled and sipped her coffee and wanted to wring Caleb’s neck. Where was he? Why had he left her to deal with these people alone?
     
    “Is Caleb coming soon?” she asked as she refilled the male detective’s cup.
     
    He smoothed his mustache, shooting a glance over his hand at the woman. With the careful instincts of the hunted, Margred noticed the look. Her pulse kicked up.
     
    “We believe so,” the woman said.
     
    “Tell us about your relationship with Chief Hunter,” the man—Reynolds was his name—said.
     
    Relationship . Is that what they called it? Margred sat back down on the edge of her chair, folding her hands in her lap. “We are friends.”
     
    The man turned a page in his notebook. “Close friends.”
     
    She smiled at him. “Yes.”
     
    “How long have you known the chief?” the woman asked.
     
    Margred tried to remember what Caleb told the doctor. “About a month.”
     
    She felt their sudden attention, like sharks scenting blood in the water.
     
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    “Since before the attack,” Reynolds said.
     
    Margred frowned. “Yes.”
     
    “You remember,” the woman said.
     
    Ah .
     
    “I remember Caleb,” Margred said. “Nothing else.”
     
    “So you really only have his word for it that you two were . . .
    close,” Reynolds said.
     
    Margred stopped herself from reaching for Caleb’s necklace around her throat. “I do not understand.”
     
    “Were you two getting along? Before all this happened, I mean?”
     
    Treacherous undercurrents swirled below the surface of the conversation. What did these people want? “Of course. I still don’t understand—”
     
    “We’re trying to help you,” the female detective said.
     
    “Another woman was attacked on the beach last night,” Reynolds explained. “If you know anything that could help us . . . anything at all ..”
     
    Understanding struck Margred. Caleb had once accused her of protecting someone. Did these two actually imagine she—
    They could not possibly suspect he—
     
    She straightened her spine. “Caleb is a good man.”
     
    Reynolds nodded. “I guess you feel you owe him a lot.”
     
    “Especially since your . . . accident,” the woman put in.
     
    Margred bared her teeth. “I do not owe him anything. I have money.
    A job.”
     
    Reynolds looked down at his notebook. “You work for a friend of his, don’t you? Regina Barone?”
     
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    A bloodred haze rose in Margred’s brain. For some reason, these humans were targeting Caleb. Threatening him. She bristled like a seal defending her pup. But she did not know how to protect him.
     
    “He got me my job, yes.”
     
    “Was he with you last night?” Reynolds asked.
     
    “He came by.”
     
    “What time was that?”
     
    “I was watching television with his sister. You could ask her.
    Perhaps . . . nine o’clock? A little after.”
     
    “Tell me what happened then,” Reynolds said.
     
    Margred clasped her hands loosely in her lap, holding on to her temper. Tell the truth , Caleb had advised. Well, if it would help him, she would try. “Caleb gave his father a ride home from Antonia’s. His father had had too much to drink. Caleb was very considerate, very calm. He helped his father to bed. Then he came downstairs and we talked for a while before he went home.”
     
    “How long?”
     
    Margred shrugged. “Perhaps . . . an hour?”
     
    Reynolds looked up. “So he didn’t spend the night?”
     
    If Margred could have lied, she would have. “No.”
     
    “Why was that?” the woman asked.
     
    Margred’s heart lurched. She could not possibly explain why they had quarreled.
     
    “ I was angry. Jealous, I guess . And I took it out on you .” Caleb’s gaze had met hers, all nerves and need, and she felt the jolt in the pit of her stomach. “ Come home with me, Maggie .”
     
    She wished she had.
     
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    Too late.
     
    “I was tired,” she said. “A long shift at the restaurant.”
     
    “So you didn’t have words?” the female detective asked. “A disagreement?”
     
    “What are you suggesting? That Caleb was so upset by a lovers’
    quarrel that he went out and attacked some woman on the beach?”
    Sarcasm dripped from her voice. “You insult him. Caleb is one of the kindest, most honorable men I know.”
     
    “You haven’t known him very