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remains up close and personal.
    “Miss Halliday?”
    Startled, I realized I was sitting there, staring at the white satin cover over Crystal’s ball and keeping Chief Talbot waiting. Zoning out from lack of sleep. “Sorry,” I muttered, and began my account from the moment I spotted Martin and his wife standing beside the Christmas Tree on the bow of Rainbow’s End , gaily waving to the crowd.
    “It was all so perfect,” I said. “The lights on the flying bridge, the tree, the costumes, their smiles. I remember feeling proud I’d had a small part in it. I order the Santa suits from a catalog,” I confided, “but I make all the Mrs. Santa and Elves myself.” For a moment Boone Talbot’s professional stone face wavered. A slight nod acknowledged my words. Idiot! He couldn’t care less. Get on with it.
    “As I said, everything was fine. And then Mr. Kellerman swayed a bit. Standing on the bow is a bit tricky, but I knew he had the tree to grab. Then he staggered . . .” I frowned, closed my eyes. Thought hard. “He grabbed the tree with his left hand, his right was . . . I’m not sure, maybe reaching for support that wasn’t there. His knees began to buckle, he stumbled forward, sort of in slow motion.”
    “And?”
    This was the tricky part. I was certain about what I’d seen. The picture in my mind was photo clear, but I also knew memory could play tricks. What if that’s what mine was doing?
    “Miss Halliday . . . Gwyn?” Those steel blue policeman’s eyes probed my brain. My soul. The man wanted answers.
    The man had been interviewing all morning. He already knew the answers. He was looking for confirmation. And if I didn’t give it, I was left in a place I didn’t want to go.
    “I thought his wife would grab him,” I offered. Then paused again. I really had to get this part right. Had to make it clear that I couldn’t be certain.
    “I was shocked, of course,” I said slowly. “Maybe I don’t remember the next part as clearly as I should . . . but it looked like his wife just stood there, probably too startled to take in what was happening. And then Rainbow’s End made a slight jog, just enough for a bad bounce off the wake of the boat in front. The bow shuddered, Martin was pitched off. He probably would have gone off anyway,” I added lamely.
    “And Mrs. Kellerman was where during all this?”
    “About two feet away, on the other side of the Christmas tree. Afterwards, on her knees. Screaming.”
    “Did she at any time reach out to help him?”
    “I was watching Martin,” I said. “I–I’m really not sure.”
    Yes, I was. She’d had one hand on the tree and one to her mouth. It was her motive that I found open to question. Shock or deliberate abandonment?
    “We can leave that for the moment,” Chief Talbot said smoothly. “I assume you know Jeb Brannigan?”
    “Pretty much all my life.” Unfortunately.
    “Knows his way around a boat better than most?” the C hief suggested. I agreed. “Under the circumstances, do you think him capable of keeping his head and holding the boat steady?”
    There was no other answer but yes. Jeb Brannigan didn’t startle easily. As much as I disliked him as a person, at the helm he was steady as a rock. “He’s not my favorite person, but he’s one of the best captains around. Runs a charter fishing service as well as Sea Rescue.”
    Boone raised one blond eyebrow. “Any mysterious trips? There must be some reason you don’t like him,” the C hief added with an apologetic shrug that didn’t fool me for one minute. Boone Talbot was a pretty polished fisherman for someone who grew up in landlocked Nebraska. “He doesn’t smuggle,” I shot back, surprised to find mysel f defending my old high school n emesis. “Not drugs, not people. If he did, believe me, I’d have heard about it. If we discount the snowbirds and the year-round retirees, this is still a pretty small town.”
    Chief Talbot just looked at me, his gaze unwavering.