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"Aye. I've kent him since he was no but a wee laddie. His mother and he would come every summer and stay in the cottage. Sinclair bought it years ago. Smart, that one."

She set her cup down and checked the lines. It was the second time Jock mentioned that Sinclair had thought she had been in danger. The only danger she faced was from him. He was the killer. "Does he have a last name? Sinclair?" she asked, tightening the jib line. The boat heeled to the right, picking up speed.

"Oh, aye. Sinclair Stuart."

They were coming up to the cove and Sinclair's house. She wondered for a moment if he was going to take her back there.

"I ken ye have no reason to trust me, but whatever happened between ye and him, the lad will have had his reasons. He's a good man."

Good man? Good men usually don't kidnap women and threaten to slit their throats. "Does he know I'm with you?"

"Och, no, lassie. I ken ye were hiding when we checked the boat. I figured ye had yer own reasons too. I didn't say anything to him."

"How long until we get to Wick?"

"A couple of hours yet."

She hoped he wasn't waiting for her when they docked. If that were the case, she would scream and yell for the police.

"Aye, look," Jock said, excited, peering over the side of the boat. Gray seals were swimming alongside the boat "The selkies are following the herring. We'll see the shoals soon."

"Selkies." Sinclair had called them that yesterday. "I haven't heard the term before."

Jock studied her. "The selkie are seal folk. It's said there is a woman of the ocean who lives inside a seal skin. When she comes up to the rocks, she slips out of her skin to bask in the sun. If a man is able to steal her skin while she sleeps, she is forced to become his wife and live on land. But, if the selkie finds her skin again, she transforms back into her true form and immediately returns to the sea, free."

"Seems a fanciful tale," Charlie said.

"Aye, a bit." Jock raised an eyebrow at her. "Aye, look. The herring."

A multitude of silver fish could be seen as far as the eye could see, forming a large school as they moved through the clear water. It was a beautiful sight.

"The shoals," she exclaimed.

"Aye, the shoals. I ken they would come." Jock opened a compartment on one of the seats and pulled out a net, plunging it into the ocean. He brought it up filled with the tiny sterling fish and dumped it in a bucket. "That'll be dinner, coated in a little oatmeal and fried."

She gave him a sad smile. It was the simple life she had always craved. On a different day, in a different time, she would have enjoyed his company, but her mind was only on escape. She looked over at the cove. The tide was in and the beach was gone. Someone stood on the edge of the cliffs, no more than a dark presence. She ducked down in the cockpit, hiding. Jock grabbed a pair of binoculars, and adjusting the lenses, he looked over at the person. "It's not Sin, lassie."

"Do you recognize who it is?"

"No. It's a man, but I have nae seen him before. He's looking at us, though."

She was so close now, she couldn't get caught. "Do you think he saw me?"

Jock gave the man a wave and set his binoculars down. "No, you're fine, lassie. It's no unusual for a traveler to get off track and end up by the cliffs."

Regardless, she stayed hidden until they were well past the cove.

They followed the fish and were surrounded by seabirds as they dove into the cold water, disappearing before coming up with their salty treats. There was a large splash to their left. Charlie let out a gasp. A large humpback whale lunged from the water, attacking the fish from underneath with its wide-open mouth. The boat rocked on the waves it created as it crashed back down.

Jock raised his eyebrows. "Ye no see that every day. The return of the giants." His giddiness reminded her of a young boy just returned home from an adventure with a pocketful of treasures. "I would nae miss it. Nature in perfect balance."

"Not so perfect if you are the herring," she said, more to herself.

"There is a reason for everything. The relationship between the whale and the fish is necessary. You're just looking at it wrong. They both need each other. We didn't see the giants for a wee while. Only now because of the ban on commercial whaling and improved stocks of the herring due to farm fishing, they've returned. They need each other just like the selkie and the sea."

She knew he was right. She'd learned all about the perfect ratio of balance in art, between formal and cerebral. Formal, being the actual elements used to make a piece of artwork, line, shape, form, tone, texture, pattern, color, and composition. Cerebral, in how one perceives it intellectually. You need both, one to appreciate the other.

"Life's no always as it seems, lassie. Neither are people. You need to keep your mind open to all possibilities." He pointed to a small village up ahead. "There's Wick."