Page 241 of Hidden Depths

"I remember him saying that."

"So do I," Ivy whispered.

Thomas carefully untied the stack of photographs.

"There were six of us."

He spread them across the old workbench.

Young men.

Standing beside fishing boats.

Laughing around campfires.

Holding enormous red snappers.

One picture showed Grandpa standing proudly beside a younger Thomas.

Nathan leaned closer.

"My father."

Thomas nodded.

"He was a good fisherman."

Nathan managed the smallest smile.

"He taught me to cast before I could ride a bicycle."

Thomas looked at him kindly.

"I don't doubt that."

He pointed to another man.

"This was Samuel Brooks."

Another.

"David Moreno."

Then another.

"Charles Ashford."

Even smiling...

Ashford's eyes looked cold.

Like he was calculating something no one else could see.

Finally Thomas rested one finger on Nathan's father.

"We trusted him."

His voice barely rose above a whisper.