The unexpected question made Jack start. He looked over his shoulder, squinting into the morning sun as Mike came up behind him on the jetty. “The bastard’s got her,” he stated flatly, turning back to the empty pen. “I assume the bastard’s Peterson.” Mike stopped beside him, looking at the vacant space where Wind Seeker should have been. “And because we’re standing at Ali’s pen, I’m guessin’ she’s her.” Jack shook his head, thrusting his hands deep into the pockets of his shorts. “I’ve been such an idiot, Turps.” “Because?” “I practically gave her to him.” Jack looked away from the empty pen, his gaze finding Mako I immediately on the other side of the marina. “Just like I gave Trudi to him.” “Jack—” Mike’s voice scratched at Jack’s numb pain, “—far be it for me to point out the bleedin’ obvious, but you are being an idiot. What happened to Trudi wasn’t your fault.” Jack stared at Peterson’s motorboat, his jaw clenched. “She was meant to be in my care, Turps.
