Page 145 of This is Why We Lied

Will said, “Sara told me the bar’s called the crosspiece. The upper edge is called the gunwale.”

Faith was reminded of when Will had first met Sara. He’d found the stupidest reasons just to say her name.

“Hey.” Kevin jogged up to meet them. “Hasn’t made a peep.”

Faith said, “Did he ask for a lawyer?”

“Nope. I got it on video when I read him his Miranda Rights. Dude looked into the camera and said he doesn’t need a lawyer.”

Faith said, “Well done, Kev.”

“Agent Dogsbody continues to deliver.” He pulled a ring of keys out of his pocket. “I’ll hit you up if I find the safe.”

Will watched him go. He asked Faith, “Is Kevin mad at you for the dogsbody joke?”

“No idea.” Kevin was mad at her for ghosting him after they’d hooked up two years ago. “I need you to do the scary lurking thing while I talk to Christopher, okay?”

Will nodded.

Faith studied Christopher as she walked toward the canoe. They’d faced him away from the water, giving him a wide-open view to the illegal still in the back of the shed. He was average-looking. Not muscular but not pudgy. His blue T-shirt showed a small paunch. His dark hair was a little mullet-y in the back, just like Chuck’s.

She walked past him, taking a deep breath as she looked out at the water. Gnats were swirling near the floating dock. Birds were circling. She let out a fake sigh of contentment. “God, it’s gorgeous out here. I can’t imagine having nature as my office.”

Christopher said nothing.

“You should ask your lawyer to look into Coastal State Prison,” Faith said. “It’s in Savannah. If the wind shifts the right way, you can occasionally get a whiff of salt air over the scent of raw sewage.”

Christopher still didn’t respond.

Faith walked back around the boat. Will was leaning against the open door of the shed looking intimidating. She gave him a nod before turning to face Christopher. The suspect was sitting on one of two benches. He was hunched over because his hands were zip tied to the bar. The second bench was smaller, tucked into the back end.

She pointed to it, asking, “Is this the bow or the starboard?”

He looked at her like she was an idiot. “Starboard is the right side. The bow is at the front. You’re standing at the stern.”

“Talk about stern,” Faith joked. She stepped into the canoe. The fiberglass made a grinding noise as it dug into the rocky shore.

“Stop,” Christopher said. “You’re ruining the hull.”

“Hull.” Faith made it extra crunchy as she sat down. “Believe me, you do not want me on the water. I don’t know a crossbar from a gun-whale.”

“It’s crosspiece and gun-wall.”

“Oh, my mistake, sorry.” Faith pretended like she had never been corrected by a man. She picked up a piece of rope that was tied to a metal loop. “What’s this thing called?”

“A rope.”

“Rope,” she repeated. “I feel like a sailor.”

Christopher gave a put-upon sigh. His head turned. He stared down at the ground.

“Did they feed you? Are you hungry?” Faith opened her purse and found one of Will’s Snickers bars. “Do you like chocolate?”

That got his attention.

Faith peeled apart the wrapper. She gave Christopher an apologetic look as she placed the bar in his upturned hand. He didn’t seem to mind. He let the wrapper drop to the bottom of the boat. He held the Snickers longways between his hands instead of straight up. Then he leaned over and nibbled it like corn on the cob.

She let him enjoy himself as she tried to figure out a better approach. There couldn’t be that many more parts of a canoe that she could get wrong. Normally, Will used his broody silence to pull the truth out of suspects, but you could get away with that when you were six-three and naturally terrifying. Faith’s particular talent was making men incredibly uncomfortable every time she opened her mouth. She waited until Christopher had taken a large bite of Snickers to ask her first question.