Page 26 of Girl Lost (The King Legacy #1)

Fuentes turned and gave Luna a quick up-and-down. “Since when do they make agents as beautiful as this?” He lifted his chin at Corbin. “You’re one lucky man to have a partner like this, no?”

“Gracias, senor.” Luna couldn’t pretend to be shocked over his blatant flirting. The guy had money. Connections. Influence. He’d be used to women throwing themselves at him. At his money, really. She leaned against the counter. “And who might Goldie be?”

Fuentes’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Goldie is my boat. She’s a bit of a demanding lady, you know?”

“The Golden Horizon ,” Morales chimed in. “A hundred and ten feet of pure luxury. State-of-the-art everything. You should see the master suite, Agent Rosati. It’s bigger than my whole condo.”

Probably room for a whole harem in there. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Fuentes waved a dismissive hand. “Bah, it’s just a bachelor pad. A place to entertain a few compadres.”

“I’m surprised you can handle servicing a yacht that size here.” Corbin gestured to the modest shop.

“We don’t do the big jobs here.” Morales shook his head. “We have a full-service marina and shipyard down on the water. Anything from routine maintenance to complete refits. We also provide charter crews, and Mr. Fuentes is one of our most valued clients.”

“Gracias, amigo, it’s why I stopped by. I’m throwing a little party on her this weekend. Nothing too fancy. Just a few friends. But I need a caterer who can handle all my usual requests.” He looked at Luna. “Nothing but the best for my guests.”

Morales glanced at Corbin, then back to Fuentes. “Well, let’s see. Were you comfortable with the caterer who handled your event last time? They specialize in exclusive clientele like you.”

Fuentes clapped his hands together. “Perfecto! Yes, set it up. And you’ll get my Goldie looking shipshape for the weekend, won’t you?” He winked. “No expense spared, of course.”

“Of course. Nothing but the best for you, sir,” Morales said.

“Perhaps I’ll see you aboard on Saturday, florcita?

” Fuentes flashed Luna a smile that came across a little more predatory than charming.

“I always enjoy the company of a beautiful woman.” Fuentes paused at the doorway and grinned.

“Enjoy the evening, agents.” He tipped his Panama hat and disappeared out the door.

“He seems nice.” Luna studied Morales, seeing the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. His hand trembled as he reached for a pen and jotted down a note.

Corbin waved a hand in front of his face. “He wears too much cologne.”

Her throat worked as she fought back a laugh. Corbin, jealous? Of a guy like Fuentes, dripping in gold and cologne?

“Back to the boat graveyard.” Corbin crossed his arms. “How’d you find out about that place?”

“What’s with all the questions about the boat graveyard?” Morales dabbed at his forehead with his shirtsleeve. “Something happen out there?”

Corbin’s expression remained neutral. “Just routine inquiries.”

“Look, I don’t even remember how I heard about the place.” Morales gestured vaguely. “It was years ago. A buddy mentioned it.”

“A buddy?” Morales was lying again. Luna could tell. The guy was a terrible liar.

“One of my employees, okay?” Morales finally admitted. “He used to work at another shop down the coast. Knew about the place. Said they used to scavenge parts out there.”

“And I’m guessing none of you had permission to do that,” she said.

“Does it really matter?” Morales spread his hands. “It’s a graveyard. Those boats are just rotting away.”

Carlie’s shallow grave flashed through her mind. The scent of damp earth and decay.

“I’m not really concerned about you stealing boat parts, Mr. Morales.” Corbin kept his tone even. “We’re looking for people who’ve been there recently.”

Morales hesitated, then shook his head. “Look, if I could tell you, I would. I don’t keep tabs on every beach bum who wanders out there.”

“Except your surfer friends.” Luna raised a brow. She wondered if Corbin noticed the subtle twitch in the corner of Morales’s mouth.

“Brock? Yeah, well, he’s family.” Morales shrugged. “He’s trying to start his own little repair service. I threw him a bone. Figured it wouldn’t hurt.”

Corbin pulled out his phone. “And the employee who told you about it. What’s his name?”

Morales told him.

Corbin took his time typing notes into his phone. “We’ll be in touch, Mr. Morales.” He tucked his phone away.

“Anytime,” Morales said, though his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“Dead end for now,” Corbin said as they walked to the car. “I’ve got someone pulling property records. We’ll find out who owns the boat graveyard.”

She opened the passenger door and paused. Through the shop window, she saw Morales, already on the phone, one hand cupped over the mouthpiece. “Who you think he’s calling first? Brock or Fuentes?”

“Or someone else. Someone with a vested interest in keeping the boat graveyard’s secrets buried.” Corbin settled behind the wheel and started the engine.

“You worried about Fuentes and his special catering request?” She clicked her seat belt and glanced at him.

“I’ve got enough on my plate right now.” Corbin pulled out of the parking lot. “I’ll mention it to another agent.” He glanced at her. “You hungry? I haven’t eaten all day.”

Food. The thought of it made her stomach churn. Those images from the boat graveyard, those shallow graves, were seared into her mind. After seeing that, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be hungry again. But ... she hadn’t eaten all day either. And her body needed fuel. “Actually, yeah, I could eat.”

He navigated the streets, heading toward the coast. “All right, we’ll grab some food. But first, I want to take a peek at Morales’s other shop.”

Always thinking one step ahead. She had to give him that. His instincts were sharp.

Ten minutes later, they pulled up outside a sprawling marina. Dozens of luxury yachts were moored to the docks. Fiberglass hulls gleamed in the moonlight. Lights twinkled on the decks, reflecting their colors on the dark water.

Corbin shut off the engine. “Let’s take a look around.”

They got out of the car and walked along the pier, the wooden planks creaking beneath their feet.

Music drifted from one of the boats, a blend of pulsing bass and sultry vocals.

This was a playground for the wealthy, a world of champagne wishes and caviar dreams. A world she’d only ever glimpsed from the shadows.

The darkened windows of the marina office reflected the moon’s pale light.

A security camera, mounted above the entrance, swiveled.

Its red light blinked in the darkness. They walked along the side of the building, a narrow strip of concrete separating the water from the parking lot.

Cigarette butts littered the ground near the side entrance.

“What are we looking for?” Luna asked.

“Don’t know. Just ... whatever jumps out.” He stopped, both hands on his waist. “Sorry. This is stupid. You’re probably exhausted, and no one is here. Let’s get out of here. I’ll have an officer come down and question the crew in the morning.”

What was that? Exasperation? Exhaustion? She knew she felt both. It had been a long day. Missing girls. Kidnapping. Graves. Shady boat dealers. Flirty billionaires. All this and no closer to answers.

“Sure.” She followed him as he turned back toward the car.

Corbin was halfway there when Luna stopped. A shadow shifted. Movement. Faint, but she caught it.

Men dressed in black tactical gear. Faces obscured by balaclavas.

“Corbin!” She grabbed his arm and yanked.

The sharp crackle of a Taser. A flash of blue light.