A Pirate's Wish

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A Pirate's Wish Page 11

by S. E. Smith


  Sometimes it really helps to have friends in high places, he thought with a chuckle.

  “What did you do?” Tonya hissed under her breath when she saw the grin on his face.

  “Me? I cleaned the kitchen,” he replied with an innocent smile.

  She gave him a suspicious look before she stepped into the house. He closed the door behind her and helped her remove her coat. Hanging it on the hook next to the door, he rubbed his hands together.

  “Would you care for some hot tea?” he asked.

  She pulled off her knit cap and gave him a pointed look, then ignored him while she stuffed her hat into the pocket of her jacket. He decided it would probably be in his best interest to distract her. Turning around, he made a hasty retreat to the kitchen.

  She wasn’t far behind him. “So, you had nothing to do with that pesky seagull, huh?” she questioned.

  “Seagull? You saw a seagull?” he asked with a feigned look of surprise.

  He turned when she gripped his arm and forced him to look at her. It was impossible to avoid looking into her eyes. He smirked when she gave him an exasperated glare.

  “Yes, we saw a seagull—a seagull that not only followed us, but had an eerie precision when dropping its poop-bombs. I noticed they seemed to land on Dan every time he tried to touch me,” Tonya gritted out.

  “Ah, yes, that seagull. Grey and white with a slight mark right about here.” He motioned to a spot above his left eye. “I may have met him on the back deck. He is a simply charming fellow who was very concerned about your virtue,” Ashure stated.

  “How did you…? Never mind, I don’t want to know,” she said with a shake of her head before she stopped and looked out of the window. “Okay, yes, I do want to know. How did you get him to dive bomb Dan?”

  He chuckled. “I am half-Sprite. We have an affinity with nature and can communicate with most creatures great and small,” he admitted.

  “Half—Of course, why didn’t I think of that? The question now is why? There was no threat to my virtue. We took a stroll on the beach—a very wet, cold, windy beach I might add,” she said, waving her hands in the air.

  “Yes, well, I am pleased that Mr. Seagull made sure of that and that you will no longer be seeing Deputy Dan,” he said with a nod of satisfaction.

  He turned toward the counter, poured the hot water from the kettle into the cup he had set out earlier, and dipped the tea bag in the steaming liquid. He picked up the cup and turned back toward her when she didn’t respond. He narrowed his eyes when he saw her flushed cheeks.

  “About that—I felt so sorry for Dan being pooped on that I might have agreed to go out to dinner with him this evening,” she sheepishly muttered before she took the cup he held out to her.

  Jimmy Roots sat up and looked out of the driver’s window of his beat up Ford truck when the patrol car passed by him. He rubbed his hands together to try to warm them as he stared at the small cottage sitting back off the road. He had been crazy to promise the guys he was hanging out with that he would help them find the couple from the beach yesterday. Everything would have been fine if he hadn’t opened his mouth about recently seeing her down at the pub.

  He fumbled for his cell phone when he felt it vibrate in his pocket. Pulling it out, he glanced at the number and groaned. He pressed the green button on the screen.

  “Yeah, man,” he greeted.

  “Have you found them?” the voice on the other end asked.

  “Yeah. Listen, I don’t think this is a good idea, TJ,” Jimmy muttered.

  “We’re just gonna have a little fun. Don’t chicken out now, Jimmy. You want to hang with us, don’t ya? If you crap out now, the guys are gonna think you’re a wuss,” TJ said.

  “No,” Jimmy mumbled.

  “Good, where are you?” TJ asked.

  “Off 101 about a mile south of town. She and the guy are staying in the old detective’s house—you know, the one that disappeared a few months back,” Jimmy replied.

  “Good. Listen, we’re meeting up tonight. Do you want to come?” TJ invited.

  “I can’t. I have to work down at the pub,” Jimmy replied, thankful that he had a job there now that he was out of school.

  “Too bad. Okay, maybe later,” TJ responded.

  “Yeah, maybe later,” Jimmy repeated.

  He shoved his phone back into his pocket and started his truck. He breathed a sigh of relief when the heater came on. He studied the house once more before he slowly pulled out onto the highway and headed back toward town. He really hoped that he wasn’t getting in over his head.

  “Hey, I need to go into town to the Post Office. Do you want to go?” Tonya asked, stepping into the living room where Ashure was watching television.

  He looked up and nodded. “Yes, I find watching this box both fascinating and a complete waste of time,” he said, picking up the remote and pressing the power button.

  She laughed and nodded. “Welcome to the wonderful world of television. I’ll have to introduce you to the Internet later. If you want a real rabbit hole to go down, YouTube, Twitter, and a few others are surely the black hole of the universe, and don’t get me started on Pinterest. I could live on that site for years without ever coming out,” she said.

  “A black hole of the universe? That sounds fascinating,” he murmured, intrigued.

  “Yes, well, when you realize that you’ve sat in the same place for hours and not accomplished anything, you might think differently about that,” she laughed.

  “I gather you are finished with your articles,” he said, nodding at the large yellow folders she was holding.

  “Yeah, these are my bread and butter articles,” she replied.

  “Bread and butter?” he repeated with a confused expression.

  “I make enough to buy bread and butter with them. Seriously, though, I have a couple of syndications that really like my stuff. I’m able to make enough off of them to pay my rent and buy food as long as I don’t get extravagant. Now that I’m able to stay here without paying rent, I can actually save a little toward my emergency fund—like buying another car. Mine is beginning to show its age,” she explained.

  “It was kind of Mike to offer his former home to you. Now I almost feel guilty about releasing the sea monkeys at Lady Ruth’s wedding,” Ashure muttered.

  “Sea Monkeys?” she asked, pausing as she pulled on her jacket to look at him.

  “It is a long story,” he replied.

  “Cool, you can tell it to me on the way to the Post Office,” she replied.

  Tonya pulled open the front door, grabbed her purse from the peg, and stepped outside. She waited while Ashure closed the door and double-checked to make sure it was locked.

  She crossed the porch and descended the front steps. Her poor little car had seen better days. It had been eight years old when she’d bought it five years ago. With almost a hundred and fifty thousand miles on it, she would have been broke if Max hadn’t been so handy with a wrench.

  She gazed longingly at the attached garage. Mike had told her that she could use his truck since he wasn’t going to need it ever again. Mike’s original plans had been to deed the house, truck, and the rest of his assets to Ruth, but she guessed that plan had gone out the window when Ruth had shown up in the Seven Kingdoms. He’d said she could stay at the house as long as she needed to until he could sort out what was going on with Ruth. From what Magna and Ashure had told her, it didn’t look like Ruth would be coming back anytime soon.

  Tonya shook her head and focused on her current objectives, which were to send out her articles and work on securing a few more for the next month. It was the digital age, but her smaller publishers wanted the signed hard copies in addition to the digital ones, so she was a frequent visitor at the post office. She unlocked the car and slid into the driver’s seat. Placing the articles and contracts on the dash, she started the car and waited for the heater to kick in.

  “I also want to stop in at the local newspaper and check o
ut if they take any freelance stuff, then I need to head up to Astoria for an interview,” she said.

  “That sounds much more interesting than sitting around watching your talking box all day,” he said.

  She laughed. “Yes, it does, doesn’t it? We’ll take 101 along the coast since I can’t meet with Peter Craig until one,” she said, shifting the car into reverse.

  “Who is Peter Craig?” he asked.

  She grinned at him. “Only one of the best up-and-coming singers of today, and yours truly was able to get an interview with him,” she said with a broad grin.

  “I can think of no one better to interview this man than you,” he said.

  “I know, right?” she cheekily agreed.

  Ashure tapped his fingers on his knee and moodily stared out of the windshield of Tonya’s car. The quick stop at the Post Office was turning out to be slightly longer because of the pesky nuisance of Deputy Dan. The man had pulled up at the same time as they did.

  He gritted his teeth when he saw Tonya laugh at something Dan said. The pleased look on the Deputy’s face made Ashure want to rip the man apart. He reached for the door release when Dan touched Tonya’s arm, but then Dan turned to an elderly woman who came out and spoke to him.

  “That man is almost as annoying as Nali’s Sea Monkeys,” he muttered.

  He flashed a strained smile at Tonya when she glanced at him. As much as he wanted to create a distraction to drive the man away, he knew that if he actually did it, Tonya would know. Fortunately for Dan’s continued health and happiness, the man walked away with the older woman—not before winking and nodding to Tonya, but still, he was gone for now.

  “I am beginning to detest that man,” Ashure muttered when he saw the wink.

  Tonya returned to the car after dropping the items in a big blue box outside of the building. She raised her eyebrow as she buckled her seat belt. He gave her an innocent smile. It was obvious from the way she shook her head that she wasn’t buying it.

  “Please tell me you aren’t planning any more seagull attacks,” she said as she shifted the car into reverse.

  “No, I was thinking of something much more unpleasant. Perhaps a love spell between him and the old woman,” he truthfully answered.

  She snorted. “You are so bad,” she murmured.

  This time his grin was real. “Always—and in the most delicious kind of way. Perhaps you should give in to your own bad side and cancel your dinner engagement tonight,” he suggested with a hopeful expression.

  She scowled at him. “I see no reason to cancel,” she replied.

  He sighed and leaned back against the passenger seat. “I was afraid that would be your answer,” he darkly muttered.

  12

  Three and a half hours later, Ashure sat forward and peered up at the rather nondescript building with a critical expression. They had made good time due to light traffic and pulled into the location where Tonya was to meet Peter Craig with twenty minutes to spare. He turned and looked at her when she turned off the ignition.

  “I want a coffee, a snack, and a bathroom, and not necessarily in that order. I definitely need the coffee,” she muttered with a yawn.

  “And this place has all of that?” he asked with a skeptical expression.

  “Yes, it does. The Coffee Girl may not look like much on the outside, but the view from inside is spectacular and so is the coffee. Plus, it is in the same building where I’m meeting Peter. Guess where you can hang out until I’m done?” she added with a grin.

  He scowled at her when she pushed open the driver’s door. It was hardly a place where he would have thought someone who was the ‘hottest upcoming singer’ would be meeting.

  Or perhaps, it might be, he thought when a group of chattering youths walked by, their hair brightly colored in various hues. They reminded him of some of the residents from the Isle of the Sea Serpent with their colorful locks.

  Ashure exited the vehicle and looked at the white metal building with green shutters and the image of a woman drinking from a steaming cup on the front. A chill from the heavy mist coming off of the Columbia River coated his skin and he rubbed his hands together to warm them. He closed the car door and stepped up onto the sideway in front of the café’s entrance.

  “This should be interesting,” he commented.

  She laughed and walked over to him, threading her arm through his. “Come on, live a little,” she teased.

  He chuckled and wrapped his arm around her waist. It was probably a good thing she had no idea how much life he had lived. He opened the door and wiggled his nose in appreciation at the delicious aromas that flooded his senses.

  “This establishment is very deceptive,” he murmured with appreciation.

  “The best kept secret in Astoria,” she replied with a happy sigh.

  Twenty minutes later, Tonya knocked on the door of the Fisherman’s Suite. She clutched her notepad and cell phone in her hand. The sound of footsteps and muffled voices could be heard through the restored wooden door.

  She pasted a bright smile on her lips when the doorknob turned, and the door opened. A shaggy, brown-haired man in his early twenties was standing in the entrance. She recognized him as Austin Evers, the drummer for Peter Craig’s band.

  “You must be the reporter. Pete didn’t tell us that you’d be so hot,” Austin said by way of a greeting.

  “Yes, I’m the reporter, and if by hot you mean good at what I do, then you are correct. Tonya Maitland,” she introduced herself, holding out her hand.

  The chorus of male chuckles echoed through the room. “You just got slammed, bro,” another band member teased.

  Austin gave her a speculative look and gripped her hand. She was expecting his hard squeeze and returned it. She had met enough assholes in the world who had been given a taste of success, let it go to their heads, and then imploded.

  From Austin’s bloodshot eyes and his frowzy appearance, he was high on something. She looked down at his outstretched arm, looking for telltale tracks. He released her hand too quickly for her to see and motioned for her to enter.

  She entered the spacious room with its beautiful Asian mahogany hardwood floor, restored original fir beams, and classic northwest accents. A fire burned in the large gas fireplace, taking the chill out of the air. Tonya couldn’t help but admire the view through the wall of windows looking out over the Columbia River.

  “Tonya, I’m Peter Craig. Thanks for coming,” Peter greeted.

  Tonya smiled, held out her hand, and shook his. He was the complete opposite of his drummer. His green eyes were clear, focused, and filled with genuine gratitude.

  “Thank you for agreeing to the interview. It is my understanding that you don’t give very many,” she said.

  “Yeah, it isn’t something I generally like to do,” Pete acknowledged.

  “So, why did you agree to this one with me?” she asked.

  Pete looked at the other guys in the room and jerked his head. Two of the guys nodded and quietly left while Austin muttered under his breath before he reached down and grabbed his jacket. He shot a nasty glare at Pete before he looked at her. A shiver of warning ran through Tonya. This guy was bad, bad news. If Pete was as smart as he appeared, he would probably be wise to start looking for a new drummer for his band.

  “Please, have a seat. Would you like something to drink?” Pete asked once they were alone.

  “No, thank you. I had a cup of coffee downstairs before I came up,” she said.

  “The Coffee Girl has some great coffee, and I love their pastries,” Pete agreed.

  Tonya sank down onto the sofa in front of the windows in the living room. She placed her pocketbook on the cushion next to her, opened the recording app on her cell phone and set it on the coffee table. After opening her notepad, she pulled out the pen in the sleeve at the top and looked up at Pete.

  “So, do you mind if I start out by asking why you agreed to give this interview? It is my understanding that you’ve turned down q
uite a few cable networks who have invited you. Why agree to an interview with me?” she asked, turning on the cell phone recording and sitting back.

  Pete chuckled and sat down in the chair across from her. He looked out the window at a passing boat and released a long, thoughtful sigh.

  “I met you once, a long time ago. We had two classes together,” he began.

  Tonya frowned and started to shake her head. “Are you sure?” she began, trying to remember what she had read about him.

  “Yeah, I’m sure. There was a bully who was picking on me at lunch, and you kicked him in the balls. That’s not the kind of girl you forget,” he chuckled.

  Tonya’s eyes widened as she remembered the incident in eighth grade. She had only been at that school for a couple of days. That incident had resulted in a five-day suspension and a move to a new school. She was then placed in foster care with the Rollings. Max had really chewed her ass out about that—until he’d learned why she kneed the kid.

  “You’ve changed,” she said, waving a hand at Peter.

  “Contacts, no braces, and a daily workout at the gym helped,” he said.

  “Nice. What happened after I left?” she asked with curiosity.

  “Butch wasn’t as intimidating as he was before. There’s something about seeing a kid piss his pants and cry like a baby that makes you realize he isn’t as big and bad as you thought. He ended up being okay after that. He’s now my manager. He declined to be here when I told him I was going to agree to an interview with you,” Pete said with an amused expression.

  She grinned and shook her head. “It really is a small world, isn’t it?” she mused.

  “Yes. I’m glad. I always hoped that I would get a chance to see you again, Tonya,” Pete said, sitting forward in his seat. “I’ve never forgotten you.”

  She stared at him with wide-eyed surprise when she saw the gleam of interest in Peter’s eyes. This was more than a casual, I-want-to-thank-you kind of interest. It was much more personal. She swallowed and looked down at the blank page.

 

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