“Where’s Kendrick now?”
Judd rubbed the back of his head. Skip reclined in the captain’s chair, hands linked behind his head. The position made him look far from jolly as the shrewd man eyed Garrett with stiff reservations. “First, let’s get back to where you’ve been all night. Were you with Sonya Savonski?”
Garrett clenched his jaw. “Yes.”
Skip huffed out a breath and glanced out the window to the river. “Are you aware of the situation you’ve put yourself in?”
“More than most.”
Skip met Garrett’s stare. “Again, I have to ask you, is this relationship with Sonya going to interfere with your ability to do your job?”
Since he might have impregnated her this morning, Garrett had to conclude that this time they indeed had a relationship. Whether Sonya would admit it or not, was still in question. As for her interfering with his job, most definitely. “No, it will not.”
Skip narrowed his gaze and then straightened, lowering his arms to rest on his knees. “I hope you’re right. Kendrick boarded the Albatross last night at twenty-three hundred hours. At twenty-three fifty-two, troopers lost her in a fog bank. We have yet to catch sight of her.”
“How much time until the drift opening?”
“Just over an hour. I want to cast off in twenty.”
“Fine.” Garrett turned and headed below to his bunk. Sonya had dropped him off at the cannery where he’d grabbed a shower before finding the Calypso tied to the east dock. This time he hadn’t argued with her and had worn one of her rain jackets to try and hide his identity. He’d also donned some of Wes’s clothes that were on the Double Dippin’ to try and protect Sonya’s reputation. Even though he hated that she was ashamed of his job, he didn’t want to cause her grief with anyone over her sleeping with a trooper. Besides, after having one night with her, he knew he’d have to have another, if not a full calendar’s. Keeping their sexual escapades covert benefited them both.
At least until fishing season was over. Then everything changed.
He grabbed a fresh uniform, trying to compartmentalize what had happened between them last night, and this morning. Panic ate at him over the reality of the situation he’d put them in. He tugged on his shirt and buttoned it up. He could be a father. The thought had his fingers pausing on the buttons. He’d had every intention of pulling out of her hot, silken body before he’d lost the ability to do so.
He yanked on his pants. So much for good intentions. What had he been thinking? Whenever he was around her, his objective got screwy. What made him think he could hold onto his control when everything showed him control was something he didn’t possess around Sonya Savonski?
Sonya finished eating a Snickers bar, and washed it down with a Mountain Dew for breakfast. As breakfasts went, it wasn’t one for champions but seemed to do the trick for morning-afters. She propped her feet on the console, crossing her legs at the ankles and leaned back in the captain’s chair. Looking out of the windows of the Double Dippin’, she scanned the area for Wes and Peter. The sooner they got here the sooner she could cast off and sail away from the Calypso docked a few boats east of hers.
She grabbed a couple Chips Ahoys trying to silence the gnawing in her stomach. She could eat until she weighed as much as her boat and that gnawing wouldn’t be satisfied.
Damn Garrett for giving her a night of sex that she’d never forget. Especially, if the result of their hot night ended up producing a child. Her throat went dry and she almost choked on the bite of cookie she swallowed. She reached for the can of soda.
What would she do if she were pregnant? Would she be able to keep her job at the high school? Could a woman in this day and age be fired for being an unwed mother? How would she care for a child? Daycare might be a necessary choice she’d have to consider, but she could also teach private music lessons at home. She’d been asked by parents before. It would definitely open her options to be a stay-at-home mom, like hers had been. Money was an issue, always had been before. If she were going to have a baby, money would become paramount. As well as insurance. She’d need medical insurance, which meant she had to keep her job.
“Ahoy there, Double Dippin’!” Peter hollered.
Sonya jumped at the shout, but was grateful for the interruption of her wandering thoughts. Peter and Wes climbed down the ladder to the deck. Finally they could get away from here, away from Garrett, and hopefully distance would quiet her drifting mind. She straightened when Aidan came into view, dropping to the deck behind Wes and Peter.
What was he doing here?
She exited the pilot house and met her crew on deck, her gaze centered on Aidan. He looked…good. His dark hair blew softly around a face sporting a shiner he must have received from their escapade last night. It gave him a rakish appearance that complimented the beard shadowing his jaw from not shaving since fishing had started. While most men would look unkempt, on Aidan it lent him an air of debauchery that was very appealing.
“Hey, Sonya, I invited Aidan along.” Peter slapped Aidan on the back. “Time he knew what drifting was all about. Besides,” Peter rubbed his hands together, “with all the fish we’re going to catch today, we could use the extra crew.”
Boy, did she ever need to have a talk with her little brother. Aidan’s eyes narrowed as she took her time in answering.
“I decided I needed to see what all the hubbub was about.” Aidan gazed at her with those warm brown eyes and his head cocked to the side. “What do you say? Show me the ropes?”
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Of course, it is,” Peter joined in. “Come on, Sonya, you two can brawl together, but not fish together? What kind of example is that?” Peter beamed with a knowing smile.
“He’s got you there,” Wes piped in with a chuckle, pulling on bibs and exchanging his tennis shoes for boots after boarding the boat.
Asking for Aidan’s help yesterday had probably crossed a line that she shouldn’t have, looking at it in the brighter light of day, but to kick him off her boat now that he was here would be rude. Besides, she did want Aidan to understand the decisions she’d made. If only he had been open to understanding her last summer.
“All right, but you carry your own weight.” And no making moves on the captain, she wanted to add. She had all the moves she could take in the last twelve hours. “Cast us off, Peter.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
“Sonya?” Aidan reached out and grabbed her arm. Stepping closer, he studied her face.
“Yes?” Their eyes met and his turned hard.
His jaw tightened, and he let go of her. “Nothing.”
Puzzled over his actions, Sonya returned to the pilot house and fired up the engines as her crew, plus one, cast them off from the dock. She turned the boat toward the line, in the mood to fight for her share of the catch today.
The door slid opened and in stepped Aidan, the breadth of his shoulders sucking the air out of the small room. “You slept with that fish cop last night, didn’t you?” His eyes were full of anger, accusation, and…hurt?
“Excuse me?” How could he know? Did someone see Garrett leave her boat this morning? Had word swam down the cork line that fast?
“You have that look.”
“What look?” What the hell was he talking about?
“The one you always got after we made love. You would develop this glow about you, like heat radiating from the inside out.” He swallowed and glanced away for a moment before nailing her with reproachful eyes. “Why, Sonya?”
How dare he make her feel guilty, like she’d somehow cheated on him? They were no longer together. It was none of his business who she slept with and vice versa. “Whatever happened between Garrett and me doesn’t have anything to do with us.”
He stared at her long and hard, the wounded look in his eyes changing to something dark and dangerous. “Don’t kid yourself.” Then he slammed out of the pilot house, and stomped his way to the deck where Peter an
d Wes were readying the net.
A chill chased up her spine.
She reached for the small aluminum pan she kept near the stove. Turning it over, she gazed long at her reflection. Did she give off a “just been satisfied” glow every time she had sex? Why had she never noticed before? Yes, her cheeks were flushed but that could be due to the accusations Aidan had just flung at her. For that matter it could be due to the weather.
Who was she kidding? It was a beautiful morning. Clear, calm, with a caressing breeze.
Suddenly she seethed.
She tossed the pan back to the stove, and it clanged as it hit, rocking until it settled. She wished she had something else she could throw. A glance at the clock told her she had ten minutes until the fishing period opened. The boats in front of her were lined up like an aluminum wall.
Damned if they wouldn’t make room for her today.
“Sonya, whatcha doing?” Peter asked as she bumped her way past the Miss Julie II.
“You want to show Aidan how to drift, don’t you?” she hollered back at him, tired of the men in her life questioning her actions.
“Not if it involves putting ourselves at risk.” Peter turned to Aidan, and she heard his words as they traveled into the open window of the pilot house. “What did you say to rile her up? I thought you two were getting along.”
Aidan turned and gazed at Sonya, his expression downfallen. “So did I.”
The look stabbed her.
Come on already, she had nothing to feel guilty about. She was a grown woman who hadn’t had sex in over a year. Hell, she had needs, damn it. She didn’t have to explain those needs to anyone. She glanced away from Aidan and focused on finding a place to set out the net in the cramped area crawling with other drifters trying to do the same.
“Five minutes! Peter, get that buoy ready. Wes, keep an eye out.” They couldn’t put their net out until the clock struck time to fish, but if a fisherman let his buoy fly a little earlier, then all the fisherman dropped their nets. After all, how would the fish cops be able to discern which fisherman dropped their net first?
Time clicked slowly and silence settled over the bay, except for the slow rumble of diesel engines. It was as if the very air waited on baited breath.
“There!” Wes pointed, and Peter let the buoy soar. Sonya gunned the engines and the bay roared as drifters rushed to catch every last fish swimming upriver to the spawning grounds. It was a buzz that never failed to exhilarate Sonya. Forgotten was the risk of being pregnant, the reprimand she’d received from Aidan, the guilt she couldn’t seem to squash. Instead, she let the excitement and the fight for fish steal over her.
White fire erupted along the cork line as salmon hit the net. Peter and Wes pointed to areas of the net, hollering a “Hot damn,” and “Did you see that?” Even Aidan seemed to forget what had transpired between them as a smile lit his face.
He turned to her, and his smile lost some of its shine, but he nodded to her and Sonya knew he got it. Set netting did bring a portion of this thrill, but not to the heightened level that drifting delivered.
“Hey, hey, Captain. Looky there!” Peter pointed to a ten fathoms section of net where the corks were sunk.
Now that’s more like it. A sunk net usually meant they’d caught lots of fish. Wes hollered a, “woo-hoo!” and Peter did a touchdown dance. Even Aidan slapped Wes with a high five. Sonya let the net soak a little longer then hollered that they were going to pull it in. Her crew took up positions, readying themselves for a morning of picking fish and hopefully filling all the holds aboard the boat. She switched on the hydraulics and started pulling in the full net. Now if they could keep that up for the rest of the summer. With the “accidents” they’d been plagued with lately it had been awhile since they’d been able to fish out an opening.
She turned on her iPod that she’d hooked into the stereo speakers placed on deck and Bon Jovi belted out Wanted Dead or Alive. She sang along, running the hydraulics as her crew picked fish after fish after fish. Today might be their best day of the season. It was definitely the best stocked net of the season.
She engaged the reel and pulled on the sunken section of net.
“Hold it!” Peter held his hand up like a stop sign. “Something’s not right.” He leaned over the bow and swiftly turned to her, his face sickly white. “The net’s full of…Chuck?”
“What?” She killed the music and leaned out the pilot house window. “What did you say?”
Wes rushed to the side and bent to see what Peter had. He quickly turned back, looking as sick as Peter. “Better call the troopers.”
Peter ran for the starboard side and threw up over the edge. Sonya cut the engines while Aidan took a look and Wes tossed out the anchor. Dread lay heavy in her stomach as she made her way to the bow. Dead silence onboard caused her boots to echo like hammer blows on the aluminum deck.
Aidan suddenly stood in front of her, blocking her path. His hands held her shoulders, keeping her in place. “You don’t want to look, Sonya.”
“Move aside, Aidan. I’m captain of this boat, and I’ll handle whatever I have to.” He released her, and she leaned over the bow.
There, caught in her net, was Chuck Kendrick.
Floating belly-up.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Sonya radioed the Calypso. By the time she’d finished, the anchored Double Dippin’ had attracted a swarm of drifters. They swooped around her like a flock of squawking seagulls seeking a free lunch. She and Aidan had looped a rope around Kendrick’s body so the swift tide didn’t work him free of the net. Lord knew Kendrick was in no condition to help himself, as he was seriously dead. They’d also released the tension on the net so that Kendrick sunk under the surface, with the weight of the lead line keeping him under. She couldn’t imagine the squawking of the crowd if they caught sight of Kendrick’s bloated body.
The main problem—besides the obvious dead body—was that the other drifters were getting downright nasty over the Double Dippin’ weighing at anchor while her net was still fishing.
“What the hell you playing at, Sonya?” The captain of the Intrepid rammed them on the portside. “Set netting in a drift opening? You’ve got your rigging confused, woman.”
A crewman from the Gale Force added from starboard, “The Calypso’s headed this way, and she sure as shootin’ better write you up.”
Sonya ducked as a can of pop sailed over from the Intrepid. The can nearly hit Sonya, exploding on deck in an arc of fizz.
“Hey!” Aidan yelled, ready to take on Intrepid’s crew.
Sonya grabbed his arm before he could make the leap. “Don’t provoke them.”
“This is getting dangerous.” Wes stepped to her other side so the men flanked her like a pair of bookends. “Somebody’s going to get hurt.”
“Tell that to Kendrick.” Aidan turned to Sonya. “Wes is right, this is dangerous. Too dangerous for a woman like you.”
“A woman like me?” she sputtered. The Intrepid tossed over another can. This time Sonya caught it and threw it back, taking great satisfaction when it boomed onto the aluminum deck and sprayed one of their crewmen. “What do you mean a woman like me?” She turned on Aidan.
“You know, one…who is more…refined. What did you say about not provoking them?”
Swearing erupted aboard the Intrepid and a few colorful names were directed back at Sonya along with a threat or two. She flipped them the bird. “How’s that for refined?” She raised a brow at Aidan.
Did the man even know her?
Wes slapped Aidan on his shoulder. “She might be a classical musician, but she has a bit of a rocker in her too.”
“I know that, but…Sonya, you can’t tell me that you enjoy this?” He indicated the boats, the fishing, the brawling.
She gave a half smile. “Yeah, I do.” Though she could have done without the dead body.
The Miss Julie II butted her way between the Double Dippin’ and the Intrepid. Treat’s concerned face app
eared. “Are you aware of what you’re doing, Sonya?”
“Yep.” She nodded, shading her eyes from the high sun glinting off the aluminum boat. She’d left her sunglasses somewhere. She made a mental note to check the cabin later. She’d already searched the boat.
Treat studied her and her crew for a moment. Wes stood, arms crossed over his chest, Aidan with his jaw clenched, fists at his side, while Peter sat on an overturned bucket, head resting in his hands. “What’s really up? You need help?”
Sonya relaxed a bit and gave him a small smile. “Thanks, Treat, but looks as though help is on the way.” She indicated the Calypso bearing down on them.
“You’re in bad shape if you’re looking for help in that quadrant.”
“Don’t I know it,” she muttered under her breath, forgetting how sound traveled over water when Treat chuckled.
“Why don’t I stick around, help buffer the worst of them?” He nodded to the Intrepid and many of the other drifters of the same ilk.
“It’s really appreciated, but I don’t expect you to give up fishing to watch out for me.”
“Who said anything about not fishing?” He gave her a wily smile. “If you don’t mind me rubbing up against you every now and then, my net can drift freely from the stern.”
In a sense, Treat would use her as an anchor while he fished. He wouldn’t be tied to her but being able to rub up against her helped to keep him stationary.
“Just don’t get your net tied up with mine or my boat.”
He winked at her. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep us from getting tangled.”
Good, because nobody wanted to be tangled up with her right now.
The Calypso cut in along Sonya’s starboard side, forcing the Gale Force to back out of the way. “Double Dippin’, prepare to be boarded.”
How she hated those words.
Wes grabbed one of ropes the Calypso threw over and Aidan grabbed the other, securing the ropes to the cleats, linking the boats together from bow to stern. Peter continued to sit on the bucket, looking as sallow as tissue paper. He hadn’t said a word since losing his stomach contents. She wished she could shield him, send him below deck until it was all over, but she couldn’t do that to the man inside of him, or embarrass the boy in front of his shipmates. No matter how much she wanted to shelter him, there came a time when life dictated the course.
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