”A thunk resonated through the door. Craig pushed the latch on the right-hand door—it swung open noiselessly. He led me through as the door closed...and locked with the same thunk.The house smelled faintly of wood polish and leather. The floors were wooden planks, mostly covered with oriental carpets of many different designs and materials. The walls were all wood paneling, and the ceilings were plaster, some with embossed designs. This was a house that belonged on the cover of Architectural. Just as she turned to go into the cockpit, she heard a commanding male voice. “Good morning, Mrs. Prentiss, I believe. Come in and have a seat.”Alice jumped at the presence. She turned and there was an old but familiar face from when she grew up – a face she hadn’t seen in nearly twenty years. Reverend Angus Morton sat in the first plush seat in the passenger compartment. He had a handgun pointed at her in one hand and gestured with the other to the seat on the other side of the small aisle. 'That's a hull down there.'Hold on a second.' Yes. 'It was moving slightly.'Rocking back and forth with the slight beach wave action ... wash and return.'How long has it been down?' he wondered.The bottom had the normal growth that all wood hulls had, but the sides that he could see were clean. There was a very slight trickle of bubbles coming up as the hull rocked.He thought, 'if that's only down about 30 feet, I could tie a cable to the bow cleat and use the diesel to pull it closer to. The two followed my gaze, their eyes landing upon the source of silent devotion. Seth smiled while Quin glowered, and a shot him my own look, daring him to make any disapproving comments. Of course, he didn't fail me. "Her ass is way too big, bro," Quin said, turning away and sipping his coffee. He shook a few rebellious strands of chestnut-brown hair from his face. Relief washed over me, knowing that we were alone in the break room, as I knew the conversation to come was a lawsuit.