She will call Jill again tomorrow.
The next morning, Jill wakes and scrolls through her phone looking at and listening to all the messages of concern and condolences that have arrived while her notifications were turned off. Everyone has heard. She listens to the message from Lara. Ted stirs beside her; it’s after eight o’clock. Jill has Mondays off, and Ted’s obviously not going to work today. No one would expect him to, after what happened yesterday. She doesn’t want to talk to Lara, or anyone, until she’s had a shower and a cup of coffee.
She kisses Ted awake and gets up and opens the bedroom curtains to a still, sunny day, so different from yesterday’s wind and scudding clouds. She feels optimistic, yesterday’s ordeal behind them, their bright future unfurling in front of her.
Ted joins her in the shower. He tells her, ‘They must have resumed the search by now.’
She nods. She and Ted don’t really expect them to recover Greg’s body. He would have gone straight down once he drowned, his lungs filling up with water, dragging him to the bottom. The body might never resurface, but in any case, the Coast Guard will call off the search before long. But it doesn’t matter either way. If they find his body, that’s okay. It won’t tell them anything. If they don’t, that’s fine too. They’re prepared for that. They know what they have to do.
They have done their research. The old-fashioned way– nothing online, nothing traceable. They have visited various libraries and read books in the stacks, without signing them out, so there is no record. And they know that if they don’t recover the body, Ted’s lawyers will have Greg declared dead by the courts in New York. But that won’t be a problem. They won’t have to wait years and years to do it like you have to in other jurisdictions. Because in New York, fortunately for them, you can have someone declared dead without waiting. As long as you can show that they were in peril just before they went missing, and that any recovery search has failed. It’s not going to be a problem. Which is good. She has never been good at waiting.
God, she loves New York.
Ted is waiting nervously for his phone to ring. He and Jill are out of the shower, dressed, and having their morning coffee in the kitchen. But he moves around restlessly, unable to sit still.
He’s Greg’s next of kin. Greg used the same prestigious law firm his parents employed, Turcotte, Weiss & Bloomfield, on Lexington Avenue. Ted uses the same firm; it’s a very large firm. Greg probably had several different attorneys, for various purposes. Ted knows it won’t be long before someone from the firm calls him, if only out of courtesy, to give condolences. He’s about to leave for the marina when his cell phone buzzes. It’s his own attorney, Marlon Fiddick. Ted glances at Jill, who looks up, alert, and accepts the call. ‘Hello.’
‘Hello, Ted?’
‘Yes. Hi, Marlon.’
‘Ted, I’m so terribly sorry to hear about Greg.’
‘Thank you.’
‘This is such a tragedy. It’s so awful for you to go through this. You have the sincerest sympathies of myself and of the firm. Your brother was a fine man.’
‘Thank you, Marlon,’ Ted says, taking care to sound suitably upset. He blurts out, ‘I don’t know what to do.’ He glances at Jill, who’s watching closely.
‘No, of course not,’ Marlon says, his voice soothing. ‘It’s a shock. No one does, at a time like this. We’re here to help.’ He pauses. ‘I will be speaking with your brother’s attorneys later today. Maybe after that you could come into our offices, and we could all have a discussion?’
‘A discussion?’
‘About next steps.’
‘Yes, of course.’ He glances again at Jill, who is standing closer now, listening.
‘How’s first thing tomorrow? Nine o’clock?’ the attorney suggests.
‘Um, okay. Yes, that’s fine. We’ll be there. I’m sorry– it’s all such a shock.’
‘I know. We’ll get you through this. And again, I’m so sorry for your loss. We will all miss Greg.’
‘Thank you.’ Ted disconnects the call. He takes a deep breath. ‘It’s happening,’ he says.
Jill looks back at him, her eyes shining.
Chapter Eleven
SPECIAL AGENT PAULRamirez of the US Coast Guard Investigative Service is at his desk early. He’s usually in early. He’s reaching for his coffee mug when his phone buzzes. He recognizes the name of his superior, Regional Special Agent-in-Charge Donovan Brady.
As a special agent with the CGIS, it is Ramirez’s job to conduct investigations of actual, alleged, or suspected criminal activity at sea. Usually drug trafficking, human trafficking, and environmental crimes. He loves his job; it’s important work.
Ramirez also likes his boss, a Navy man. They have a relationship of mutual respect. Ramirez came up through the Navy, although he is now a civilian special agent, and relatively young, at thirty-three.
‘Ramirez, I might have something interesting for you,’ Brady says.
His ears prick up. ‘Tell me.’