Stolen by Jordan Gray

escape.
    Michael picked up his pen and notepad, thinking how he would have handled the situation if he had been in charge of the robbery. Not that he would ever kill anyone.
    Still, as a game designer he planned a lot of complex and intricate puzzles. Sometimes he wondered if he’d become too coldly analytical because of it. Then he realized how sickened he’d been while looking at the photographs andhad empathized with the victims for what they’d been forced to endure.
    He shelved his emotions for the moment and gave his attention over to the problem.

CHAPTER TWELVE
    O UT IN THE DISTANCE, A THIN fog drifted in patches over the harbor. The slate-gray sea seemed to lift up like the edge of a bowl to meet the dulled cotton of the sky. Only the bright sails of pleasure craft riding the ocean waves brought any color to the scene.
    An elderly man in faded blue coveralls stood guard over the marina gate. He watched Molly as she walked along the pier. Her heels clacked against the rough wood.
    The marina was old and in need of refurbishing. Many of the buildings, warehouses and offices were weathered and gray. Almost all of the color had drained away, leeched out by the sun and the constant damp. Seagulls and terns flocked across the pier, the boats’ and ships’ rigging, and the buoys that marked the various sections of the harbor.
    â€œCan I help you, mum?” The man stood on the other side of the locked gate, a Members Only sign prominently welded to the wrought iron. Molly noticed the knife and net scars on his hands, and then saw he held a new shiny black walkie-talkie.
    â€œI’m a member.” Molly took her identification card from her handbag and showed it to the man. She and Michael kept a cabin cruiser at the marina.
    The man looked at the card. Gray stubble knotted his lined cheeks. “Your boat ain’t docked here, mum.”
    â€œNo. I’m here to see a friend on the Crystal Dancer. ”
    With a nod, he returned Molly’s identification card.“Yes, mum. We just have to be careful. Got a lot of strangers in town right now, and there’s all manner of things going on.”
    â€œI understand.” Molly waited till the man unlocked the gate, then strode through. The wind whipped around her, chilling her and filling her nostrils with the brine smell of the sea and the odor of decomposing fish.
    On the docks, fishermen worked their hauls. Heavy blades chopped through tuna and other fish with meaty thunks against the thick wooden slabs. Nets hung from rigging, some of it still dripping water in machine gun–fire drips. Pop music and hardcore rock warred with the cries of the gulls and terns.
    Molly felt out of place around the fishermen. She always did. Michael, on the other hand, could mix in with anyone, including the close-mouthed individuals that mined the sea for a living. On occasion, he had gone with some of the men for a day or two at a time when the fish were running. He loved new experiences and so far she hadn’t seen him turn away from anything.
    But she enjoyed the atmosphere of the area. The marina and the harbor always summoned up images of Blackpool’s past. All she had to do was gaze off in the distance and she could imagine pirate ships and privateers sailing into port.
    Michael, too, was fascinated by the legends of the place. History always seemed to call out to him and hurl his imagination into overdrive.
    But Molly had fallen in love with the romance and mystery of the town. So many stories yet remained to be told.
    Like the one about the train robbery in 1940.
    Crystal Dancer sat at anchorage near the end of thedock. The boat’s position told Molly that she was a visitor to the area—a resident would have had a closer berth.
    The boat was a sixty-footer, sleek and clean. She rode the water well, balanced and poised. Her white hull had yellow and blue stripes that appeared freshly painted.
    Molly followed the narrow planking