They weren’t going to do anything. Not soon enough. And if Elias walked away now, whoever was on that ship would vanish again, swallowed by the sea. He turned and slipped into the alleys, keeping to the shadows as the police taped off the piers.
His skiff wasn’t tied at the docks anyway—it was further down the coast, hidden on the rocks where he often moored it. That distance, usually a nuisance, was now his chance. Elias’s jaw tightened. If no one else would help, he would. The storm was building, the risk enormous, but the image of that desperate wave burned in his mind. He would not let it go unanswered.