Page 233 of Hidden Depths
“You knew my father?”
Thomas bent slowly and retrieved the key.
“I wish I hadn’t.”
Nathan flinched as if the words had struck him.
“My father was James Sinclair’s friend.”
“He was,” Thomas said quietly. “Once.”
Nathan looked at me, then back at Thomas.
“What does that mean?”
Thomas closed his eyes.
“Your father sailed with James. Fished with him. Ate at his table. He watched James’s son grow up.”
My father.
Thomas was talking about the years before we were born, when Dad was still young and Grandpa believed his friends were as loyal as family.
Nathan stepped closer.
“My father spoke about James until the day he died.”
“I believe he cared for him.”
“Then why are you looking at me like that?”
Thomas’s gaze shifted to the steel box.
“Because your father betrayed him.”
Nathan’s face went blank.
“No.”
“He passed information to the man James was investigating.”
“No.”
“He told them where James sailed. Who he spoke to. What evidence he had collected.”
Nathan shook his head.
“You’re wrong.”
“I was there.”
“My father would never—”
“He did.”
Thomas’s voice cracked through the room.
“He may have convinced himself he had no choice. Perhaps they threatened him. Perhaps they paid him. I never learned the reason. I assumed he was threatened.
