Chase Fulton Box Set

by Cap Daniels

  My bed smelled like Anya, and I hoped it always would. I was lonely with my eyes open and haunted with them closed. I lay on my back and practiced the meditation techniques I’d been taught at The Ranch in the event I ever became a prisoner. Measured deep breaths punctuated with focused thoughts on specific moments in time when I felt safe, content, and fulfilled. The moments in my life which met that criteria were limited to two. The first was at home with my mother, father, and sister, and the second was when I was holding Anya in my arms and listening to her sleep. Focusing on those two episodes did nothing except remind me of what I’d lost and warn me against loving anyone ever again.

  I finally drifted off to restless sleep sometime around midnight and awoke with the sun. Dawn had long been a personal and private time for me when I would pray and think about my responsibilities to myself, those around me, and God. A few days before, Anya reminded me of what she perceived as my faith and belief in a God she didn’t know. What I’d been taught about the hell awaiting the souls who died not knowing Him terrified me. Anya died while saving Skipper’s life. That alone had to have some value in the hereafter. If it didn’t, what else could have any value?

  My morning prayers rarely included requests for anything for myself. I’d never felt worthy to ask for anything from other humans, and certainly not from God Himself. I always opened my prayers with appreciation and closed with apologies. For the first time, I was having trouble finding reasons to say thank you. Doubt and questions had always been part of my belief. Perhaps faith can’t exist without doubt, just as light can’t exist without darkness. I’d never have the big answers, but I’d never be without big questions.

  Coffee made everything better, as it almost always does. I sat on the stern deck and watched a snowy egret catch minnows in the shallows behind the dock. I envied the egret’s simple life until I watched her fly away in fear when a water snake swam a little too close. I guess we all have our threats. It would be nice if all of them were so easily identified as the snake to the egret.

  I was pouring my second cup of coffee when Skipper came stumbling up the stairs.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” I said. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “That’d be great,” she said.

  I poured her a cup and we headed back up on deck. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and reluctantly came to life. I never remembered her being a morning person.

  “What are you doing up so early?”

  “I smelled the coffee and heard you moving around,” she said. “Besides, I slept all afternoon and went to bed around ten last night.”

  “I’m glad you’re catching up on your sleep. How was your date?”

  She kicked at my leg. “It wasn’t a date. It was just pizza. He’s a super nice guy, and he’s really worried about you.”

  “Worried about me?”

  “Yeah, he’s worried that you’re going to keep beating yourself up over stuff that isn’t your fault, but I told him I’d take care of you.”

  “I know you will,” I said. “So, I’m going to need your help. We’re going to do a day charter for a couple who’s staying at the hotel where we had lunch yesterday. I owe the manager a favor. I need you to play hostess for the day, serve drinks, and wait on them. They’ll probably tip pretty nicely if you treat them well and do a good job. Are you interested?”

  “Sure,” she said. “It actually sounds kinda fun.”

  I called Jack and told him I’d be glad to do the charter for him after all he’d done for me. He asked if a thousand bucks would be enough.

  “No way, Jack. I don’t want the money. You’ve been too accommodating already. You rolled out the red carpet and let me keep my boat here. I can’t accept any payment. If you’re going to bill your guests, give your desk clerks and kitchen staff a bonus with the money. When do your guests want to go sailing?”

  “Chase, the Jekyll Island Club has a long and storied history with your . . . company. You and your partners are always welcome here, and the hotel will always be at your beck and call. Never thank us for our accommodations. After all, over the years, your partners have rendered services for the club that were priceless. We consider you part of our family.”

  I thanked him and asked again, “Do you know when your guests would like to go sailing?”

  “I’ll have to check with them,” he said, “but I would think today would be a perfect day if you’re available.”

  “In that case,” I said, “I’ll await your confirmation call, but today’s fine with me. We’re ready when they are. I’ll need some provisions from your bar and kitchen, though.”

  “The couple—Michael and Sara Anderson—is at breakfast now. I’ll make contact with them and let you know. I’ll have the kitchen and bar managers make a delivery to your boat as soon as we confirm.”

  “Thanks, Jack. I really appreciate everything.”

  I hung up and yelled for Skipper. When she showed up on deck, she was wearing a towel wrapped around her with wet hair dripping down her back.

  “We’ll probably be doing the charter today, and there are some clothes in my cabin you can wear. You’ll find a couple dresses in the hanging locker and plenty of shorts and things in the dresser. You’ll probably want to wear a sundress for the charter. I plan to wear pants and a button-down. We’ll look professional, even if we have no idea what we’re doing.”

  She grinned. “I was just coming up to tell you I had nothing to wear for a fancy charter.”

  “Anya was a little bigger than you, but her things should fit you fine until we can do some shopping.”

  She left to try on clothes, and my phone trilled.

  “This is Chase.”

  “Mr. Fulton,” came a pleasant voice. “I’m Barnard, the bar manager at the club. Mr. Ford asked me to provision your boat for an all-day charter for the Andersons. I’ll have one of my bartenders deliver what you’ll need for the charter, and I am also to stock your boat after the charter with whatever you’d like. Of course, we’ll be sending a case of very nice scotch, but if you’ll put together a list, I’ll see that you have whatever you’d like.”

  “Thank you, Barnard. That’s very kind of you and Mr. Ford. I assume this means our charter is on for today?”

  “Yes, sir,” he said, “Mr. Ford said ten o’clock this morning. Goodbye, Mr. Fulton.”

  I passed the word to Skipper as she climbed from the starboard hull into the main salon wearing the sundress we’d bought for Anya less than a week earlier. She was beautiful in the dress and sounded sincerely excited about the charter.

  I stowed everything onboard that looked personal in nature and tried to make the boat appear as much like a charter boat as possible. I laid out a pair of life jackets and a couple bottles of sunscreen. I had Skipper round up a couple of blankets in case the Andersons were to get chilly after sundown. I planned to show them a full day of cruising the barrier islands. I was starting to enjoy the idea of the charter, thinking it might be good for my spirits.

  The bartender and kitchen deliveryman arrived on the dock with dollies loaded with provisions. I invited them aboard, and we started a bucket brigade until we had the provisions stowed away and easily accessible.

  When we finished, I wished both men a good day.

  “I’m supposed to sail with you,” the bartender said. “Mrs. Anderson likes a Vodka gimlet, and Mr. Anderson is a White Russian man. I make their drinks for them. Also, I’ll prepare lunch for your crew and guests.”

  “That’s fine with me,” I said. “We appreciate the help. Are you okay in the galley if the sea gets a little rough? Some people get sick when they’re stuck inside in rolling seas.”

  “I’ll be fine,” the man said. “I was a bartender and chef on a private yacht for six years. I think I can make it one more day, but thank you for the concern.”

  “In that case, make yourself at home. I’m Chase. I’ll be the skipper, and Elizabeth here will be our hostess and server. She’ll be available to help you wit
h anything you need.”

  “I’m Vinny,” he said as he shook my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Captain Chase.”

  “Just Chase,” I said.

  Vinny shuffled his feet.

  “Is everything all right?” I asked him.

  He glanced away as if he were trying to decide if he should tell me what was on his mind. I was intrigued.

  He eyeballed Skipper then wiped his hands on his apron. “Uh, Chase, I try not to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, but I’d really like to talk with you if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course,” I said. “Let’s go inside.”

  “Well, I’m going to take a little walk up to the club,” Skipper said. “I think I may have left something in the restaurant.”

  I liked her skills of perception. She’d developed an ability to read people’s intentions and body language. That was a skill that would serve her well, regardless of what she did for the rest of her life.

  Vinny and I walked into the main salon, and I closed the door behind us.

  “Have a seat,” I said. “What’s on your mind?”

  I could see the hesitance still on his face.

  “Captain Chase,” he began.

  “Just Chase,” I reminded him. “Look, something is clearly bothering you, and I see it’s important enough that you want to talk to me about it. I’m listening, and no matter what you tell me, I’ll keep it between us—if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

  He licked his lips and appeared to gather his courage. “It’s not so much that I want you to keep it between us, and it might not be anything at all. I just overheard the Andersons talking about you yesterday, and I thought maybe you should know.”

  Vinny was starting to sweat.

  “Would you like a drink, Vinny?”

  “Oh, no sir. I couldn’t. I’m on duty.”

  “Yeah, you’re sort of on duty, but it’s sea duty today, and everyone knows all good seamen get a daily ration of grog.”

  His shoulders relaxed and he even smiled. “Thanks, Chase. I could go for some water if you wouldn’t mind. Oh, but I can get it! You’re the captain. I’m just the bartender.”

  I pulled two bottles of water from the cooler and handed him one. “Okay, so let’s hear what the Andersons were saying about me.”

  He opened his bottle and drank half of its contents. The tension in his face said his nervousness was returning.

  “Bartenders hear lots of stuff, and it’s kinda like our code that we don’t talk about what we hear. You know, like a doctor–patient thing.” He finished what was left of his water. “So, I was setting up their nightcaps . . . they’re kinda picky about their cocktails . . . and anyway, I don’t think they knew I could hear them.”

  My impatience was swelling, but I stayed relaxed and let him go at his own pace.

  “I try to be invisible when I’m serving, and I think maybe I was a little too invisible because they were talking like nobody was around.”

  I nodded and leaned in to indicate that he had my full attention.

  “Do you know anybody named Captain Norikova?” he asked.

  “Captain Norikova? Uh, no, I’ve never heard that name.”

  “Yeah . . . are you sure?”

  “I’m sure I’d remember a guy named Norikova,” I said.

  “I don’t think it’s a guy. Mrs. Anderson said she saw Captain Norikova on your boat . . . and she thinks you killed her.’”

  “What? Are you sure that’s what you heard?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. And I’m not trying to get involved in anything. I don’t know you and I don’t know the Andersons. I just thought maybe I should talk to somebody about this. I wanted to talk to Mr. Ford, but I don’t know . . . it just didn’t seem right.”

  “Listen to me, Vinny. This is obviously a big misunderstanding. I don’t know anyone named Captain Norikova, and I’ve certainly never killed anyone by that name. If you don’t feel comfortable doing the charter, I’ll tell Mr. Ford you aren’t feeling well, and I’m sure he can find someone else to fill in.”

  Vinny shook his head. “Oh, no. I feel fine about the charter with you. I just didn’t feel good knowing something like this and not telling anyone. It sounded pretty serious to me. I’m really glad I told you, Captain Chase.”

  “Just Chase,” I said.

  21

  Exchanging Glasses

  The Andersons arrived at precisely ten a.m., and unlike what I would expect of most wealthy people, they actually asked permission to come on the boat.

  “Please come aboard. I’m Chase Fulton. I’ll be your captain for the day. This is Vinny and Elizabeth. Vinny will ensure that you have your Vodka gimlet and White Russian exactly as you like, and Elizabeth will make sure the glasses arrive in your hands before you ask. If there’s anything we can do to make your day more enjoyable, or if there’s anything in particular you’d like to see, let us know. We’re at your service.”

  They looked nice enough, but they didn’t strike me as being wealthy like I’d assumed. Skipper showed them the boat and helped them get comfortable on the trampoline while I fired up the diesels and checked the gauges. Everything was working as it had been designed to work. I cast off the lines, and we headed out to the channel and into the great expanse of the North Atlantic. I was happy to see a wind out of the southwest. That would mean the seas would be relatively flat and we wouldn’t get tossed about.

  The morning breeze was freshening and already blowing around ten knots. I turned south and had the sails set and trimmed in less than two minutes, and I listened as the diesels fell silent. There aren’t many sounds in the world sweeter than a sailboat slicing through the water and the wind whistling in the rigging.

  Skipper proved to be a perfect hostess and server. Before their glasses were empty, she was standing beside them with a fresh cocktail. She served a beautiful tray of cheeses, fruit, and crackers that Vinny had prepared in the galley.

  About an hour into the cruise, Mrs. Anderson came aft and asked to use the restroom. I hadn’t thought about them needing to use the head. I’d left my towel on the deck and shaving kit spread over the countertop in the starboard head. I glanced at Skipper.

  In another display of her impressive skillset, she read my mind and mouthed, “It’s clean.”

  “The restroom is in the left side hull. Turn left in the main salon and go down the stairs. The bathroom will be on your right,” I said.

  “Thank you, Captain.”

  I was headed for Cumberland Island, thinking the Andersons might enjoy seeing the beautiful barrier island from the ocean side. About six minutes after Mrs. Anderson had gone into the main salon, I saw her return as if she’d been in the starboard hull instead of the port side as I had told her. When she returned to the deck, she wore a look of dissatisfaction.

  “Is everything all right, Mrs. Anderson?” I asked.

  “Fine. Do you live on this boat alone, Captain Chase?”

  Her question seemed inappropriate and a little odd.

  “Well, yes ma’am, I do, but Elizabeth is temporarily living aboard as my guest. Why do you ask?”

  “Oh, I see. I thought I saw you aboard with a young lady a few nights ago. She was blonde, tall, and slightly heavier than Elizabeth, but maybe I’m mistaken.”

  The conversation with Vinny bounced around inside my skull like a rubber ball, and I tried to deflect her statement. “No ma’am, it must’ve been Elizabeth. I’ve not had anyone else aboard.”

  Had she seen Anya and mistaken her for someone named Captain Norikova?

  I didn’t like the feeling I was getting in the pit of my stomach, and there was definitely more to the Andersons than met the eye. The look on her face told me she was unconvinced.

  As soon as Mrs. Anderson was back on the trampoline, I motioned for Skipper to come to the helm. “If either of them asks how long you’ve been on the boat, tell them a couple of weeks. Mrs. Anderson was asking questions about Anya, and I’m not sure what
to make of it yet.”

  “Okay. Is anything wrong?”

  “I’m not sure yet. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but there’s something not quite right about those two.”

  Skipper kept serving drinks, and I noticed Mr. Anderson checking his watch every three minutes, and then looking up into the cloudless sky each time.

  I called for Skipper to come to the helm again. “Stand here at the wheel and look like you’re driving. The autopilot is on, so you don’t have to do much other than look diligent. I’m going up to talk with our guests.”

  “Why are you being so paranoid?”

  “I’m sure everything’s fine,” I said, trying to reassure her. “I just want to talk with them and see what time they want to have lunch.”

  I could tell she was skeptical, but she did as I asked. Walking to the bow, I pulled on the shrouds and inspected the rigging as I went.

  I knelt on the deck behind the trampoline. “I hope the two of you are enjoying your day with us.”

  They both smiled, and Michael said, “It’s a beautiful day and a gorgeous boat. Thank you for having us aboard, Captain.”

  “Please call me Chase. I thought we might tuck into a beautiful little anchorage behind Cumberland Island called Brickhill River. The scenery is breathtaking, and it’d be a wonderful place to have lunch. Vinny’s preparing a fantastic meal for you.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” Sara said. “Doesn’t it, Michael?”

  “It certainly does,” he said. “What did you say the name of the anchorage is?”

  “It’s Brickhill River, a quaint little inlet off the Intracoastal Waterway. There’s plenty of privacy, and we’ll be out of the wind, so it should be a perfect spot for lunch. Please continue to make yourselves comfortable, and if there’s anything you want or need, let Elizabeth or me know.”