Masquerade by the Sea

by Traci Hall

  Jolie sat next to him with rapt attention, giving hand signals to the staff until Rajah came out of the cockpit and announced the arrival of the Coast Guard.

  “We are rescued,” Jolie said with a light laugh. “You’ll be able to share your story of being tugged in after a terrific dinner at sea. A little adventure, a wonderful time.”

  She rose to her feet, noting that most of the guests had relaxed enough to enjoy the food and the company.

  “I forgot we were stranded!” Janey laughed. “The food was delicious.”

  “The wine plentiful,” another person said.

  “Our boss knows how to throw a party,” a third person commented.

  Randall graciously accepted the praise.

  Jolie bowed her head in a prayer of gratitude. Her business reputation was probably ruined, but she’d made the best of a bad situation.

  She left them to meet with the Coast Guard. Jolie recognized one of the men from the volunteering she did at Ocean Green. “Rory?”

  “Hi, Jolie. We came as soon as we heard the distress call was from the Masquerade.” Rory had a beach-bum look that belied a strong work ethic and patriotism going five generations back.

  “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.” She took his hand and squeezed.

  He winked. “I hear that a lot. Want me to see what the problem is, or do you want a tow?”

  “It’s dark,” Heath said. “How would you be able to tell?”

  Rajah got up, his arms crossed. “We can take care of this back at the marina.”

  Jolie looked at him with surprise. Since when was he in charge?

  “We’ve got spotlights for underwater repair.” Rory looked at Jolie. “You think it’s the engine?”

  She shrugged. She knew the engine was weak, but she’d tempted Fate. It was her ow fault.

  “You nosed into a bed of sea grass, but that’s a fine—not a boat breaker. My guess is that it’s a mechanical problem.”

  Jolie closed her eyes. “You’re probably right.” He was. She and Rajah had been keeping the engine going by prayer and hard work. Tonight was the worst night the engine could have blown. She was just grateful nobody was hurt.

  “I can look,” Rory said. “But it costs a lot for me to do. A tow is cheaper.”

  “We’ll do that. Then I’ll call Jamison.” Instead of her new engine, she’d need a refurbished one by tomorrow, or risk losing more business.

  What if this was caused by a simple miscalculation? She didn’t blame Heath. It wasn’t his fault. She’d asked him to take on more than he was capable of, she supposed. “It was just bad luck, I guess.”

  Heath shook his head, his jaw clenched tight enough for her to see the muscle strain beneath his beard.

  Rajah asked, “Would the sea grass mess with the engine?”

  “Of course. But that’s not where you’re at.” Rory pointed to the front of the boat rather than the stern. “Sea grass is there. Engine’s in the back.”

  “Heath didn’t cause the accident.” Jolie gave Rajah a chill-out look. “I have a yacht full of customers to keep happy. Thank you, Rory, for coming to get us. I’d like a tow. Can you keep it smooth so I don’t completely piss off my client?”

  Did it matter? Once Randall finished smearing her reputation, she wouldn’t be able to give away a charter aboard the Masquerade.

  Heath followed Jolie back into the dining area and the bar. She kept her head held high and joked that they’d been rescued by the Coast Guard. The very handsome and muscular Coast Guard, if any of the single ladies wanted to wave from the deck once they reached the marina.

  Until then, if they could all stay seated, the servers would bring around a last selection of wine.

  He knew how hard she’d worked to make this night a success. List after list, scenario after scenario. Never had she dreamed that Heath would ruin her boat. On this one night.

  It didn’t set right.

  Heath wasn’t big on mysteries, and this just didn’t make sense.

  He’d been on alert, ready for that corner and the shallow inlet. He’d been going slow, wanting a smooth ride for Jolie. No complaints from Randall about anybody getting sea sick.

  Heath flirted with a few of the ladies, noticing that Jolie was sticking close to Randall, even laughing at his self-absorbed jokes. God, he loved her. Loved her spunk, loved her drive, loved her willingness to laugh in spite of the circumstances.

  Heath owed Rory a beer for making it clear it wasn’t Heath’s navigational skills that was the issue. So who was responsible? Was the engine just old?

  Rajah had tuned it up before they left. Rajah didn’t like Heath, and didn’t want him on the Masquerade.

  Heath paused as he poured wine, then shook his head. The First Mate wouldn’t hurt Jolie just to piss off Heath.

  He wanted to take a look at that engine too. Sure, a truck engine was way different than a yacht engine. But still…what were the chances that it would malfunction on the most important night of Jolie’s career? Bad luck.

  Or was it?

  They docked and the Coast Guard blew a farewell horn. The guests all shouted their thanks from the deck.

  Randall had his arm around Jolie’s shoulders. “Thank you, Captain. I’m sure the flaws in the evening will be reflected in my final bill?”

  Jolie, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with suppressed emotion, nodded. “You will be receiving compensation. Thank you so much for your understanding.”

  “If your boat is ruined, you can always come work for me.”

  Jolie maintained her pleasant expression. “You are too kind.”

  “An interesting night, as you promised. I look forward to your call.” He kissed her cheek and gave her lower back an intimate pat before getting off the Masquerade. Heath wanted to punch the bastard, but that probably wouldn’t help smooth the night over.

  Jolie handled it all perfectly. She was doing what she was meant to be doing, making people happy. Why would Randall suggest that the boat was ruined?

  Did he have something to do with the night’s events?

  God, he was worried for her and seeing sinister moves in the shadows where maybe there were none.

  Heath could do one thing for Jolie, to make her happy. He looked over the side of the boat, and gritted his teeth. The water, slicked with oil and decaying palm fronds, was murky. It could hide a multitude of things that liked to hide in the wet dark.

  Rajah stood shoulder to shoulder with Jolie, waving the customers off the boat. Jamison had helped steady the party charter on the dock and his red hair glowed like fire in the moonlight. His face seemed orange, but that was probably due to his freckles rather than guilt. He’d done nothing but be a good friend to Jolie.

  Everybody left on a laughing note, and considering the circumstances, that was pretty damn good.

  At last, Jamison was able to come on board. His mouth was bracketed with white, his beefy hands curled at his sides. “Jolie, are you all right? What the hell happened? You should have bought that refurbished engine instead of risking people’s lives!”

  Rajah, cocky, said, “It all worked out. No harm done. They even liked my stone crab.”

  “How can you say that?” Jolie asked, taking her white hat off and tossing it to the dashboard as she faced Rajah. “No jokes. That was the biggest client I’ve ever had and he wanted perfection. He didn’t get that, and it’s going to cost me. The engine is going to cost me.”

  “Let me make a phone call,” Jamison inserted quickly, backing down at the sight of Jolie’s anger.

  “We need to see the engine.” Heath looked from Rajah to Jamison to Jolie. “Right now, probably.”

  “Why?” Rajah asked, his eyes narrowed.

  “It’s dark,” Jamison protested.

  “What are you thinking about, Heath?” Jolie touched his arm and he wished he had the right to enfold her in a protective hug.

  “I keep going over the sound I heard before the engine went funky. It was like a fire
cracker, right? What would be in the engine that would sound like that?”

  Jamison crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. “Nothing. Especially that would pop.”

  Rajah leaned back. “A piston misfire?”

  “Under water?” Jolie questioned. “Okay. I’m curious now too. But it can wait until morning. It’s too dark.”

  “Good idea.” Rajah got up from the captain’s chair. “We can deal with it then. When it’s light outside and not so creepy. I know how much you love it, Heath. Unless you’re volunteering to check it out?”

  “Yeah, maybe I am.” Heath had the idea that if they waited it would be too late. “Better me than you. You were down there before we left today.”

  “At my request!” Jolie interceded.

  “What’s your problem?” Rajah asked, turning on Heath with raised fists. “You have been a troublemaker ever since the captain hired you on.”

  Jolie’s brows rose, as did Jamison’s.

  Heath stuck his hands in his pockets so he didn’t start a brawl. “You liked me just fine until you thought I might want to stick around.”

  “I tolerated you, knowing you were going to be gone by season. Ain’t no business of mine who the captain wants to sleep with.”

  “Rajah!” Jolie’s hazel eyes glimmered greenish gold. “Apologize, right now.”

  “You’re going to take his side over mine?” Rajah tugged his kerchief from his head.

  “You’re crossing the line,” Jolie said, her mouth set.

  “This is bullshit!” Rajah smoothed his goatee.

  “Let’s just cool down.” Jamison lowered his arms, denoting calm.

  Heath saw that Rajah wasn’t buying it.

  “Even if I were to hire Heath full time it wouldn’t affect your job, Rajah.” Jolie tried to touch the First Mate’s shoulder but he moved away.

  “What about Benedict? Coming back from his country ready to work, and Heath here is behind the bar instead.”

  “Benedict has his job too. You’ve over-stepped, Rajah. I want to buy another boat.”

  “With what?” Rajah stomped down on the deck of the Masquerade and got into Jolie’s face. “You can’t even afford a new engine.”

  Heath, seeing Jolie wince, shoved Rajah back. “Get out of here.”

  “Screw you,” Rajah said. “I quit.”

  Chapter Twenty One

  Rajah stalked off the Masquerade and Jamison followed him, leaping onto the dock with an apologetic look. Jolie, in shock, turned to Heath and spread her arms wide. “What in the hell just happened? How did my magical night end up like this?”

  Her knees buckled but Heath caught her by the elbow, his grip sure and strong. “Let’s sit down.”

  She closed her eyes, absorbing Heath’s strength. “Everything I had is gone. My reputation? In tatters. My boat? Needs a new engine. I won’t be able to bill Randall Wallace for anything besides the food. It’s not right to charge him for gas and man hours when we were tugged in by the Coast Guard. Which will be another bill for me to pay.”

  Tears filled her eyes.

  Heath rubbed her back and sat her at one of the round tables in the dining area. The servers were downstairs in the galley cleaning and putting away the food. She’d have to pay them. Where was she going to come up with all of the cash?

  Had this dream been a waste of time?

  Of money?

  The Masquerade was her life. She’d grown up at the helm with Gramps and she shuddered to think what she’d be without the boat.

  “It will be okay, Jolie.”

  “How?” She looked up at him, her chest aching. “Rajah was a decent First Mate and he could cook. Maybe he’ll re-think his decision tomorrow.” Jolie bowed her head, resting her forehead against the table. “You leave in the morning.”

  How could he leave her?

  “I am so sorry.” Heath continued to rub between her shoulder blades.

  “Not your fault.” She exhaled as he kneaded a tight muscle in her back. “Bad luck. The summer was too wonderful. Didn’t I tell you that paradise had a price?”

  “You don’t get dinged for being happy.” Heath knelt down next to her, pushing her hair back from the side of her face and forcing her to look at him. “You deserve to be happy.”

  She sat up. “Happiness isn’t a right.” Jolie pressed her palms against her hot cheeks. “Granny always said it was a choice. I’m having a hard time seeing that as an option at the moment.”

  Heath rose and limped slightly to the bar. He poured a shot of golden rum, lighter than his eyes, into a glass, and then poured a second shot. He brought them to the table.

  “Here. You’ve had a shock. Let me pay the servers, and you can go to bed.”

  “No, no.” She sipped the rum, letting it warm her tongue. “I can do it. You have to get up early in the morning. Seriously, I can drive you to the airport.”

  “Jolie, I am not leaving you in the morning.”

  Jolie’s body warmed and it had nothing to do with the rum. “You aren’t?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll reschedule for the end of the week. Let’s make sure Rajah comes back. The engine gets fixed.”

  “You would do that for me? What if you lose your other job?”

  “It’s just a job.”

  “But you wanted it!”

  “I did. I’m a different person now.”

  “Then why go back at all?” She kept her hands curled around the shot glass, wanting to throw her arms around his neck.

  “I have to. I belong in the mountains.”

  “You belong—” with me, she’d been about to say. Instead she finished her rum, her body and mind exhausted and worn down. She was tired of kissing Randall’s ass. Didn’t understand why Rajah was jealous of Heath. Heath would be here in the morning.

  Heath, true to his word, paid the servers and left her to mull things over in the corner. She felt as if there was something unfinished.

  Their summer fling? He didn’t want her anymore, but being a good, decent man, he would make sure she was okay before he moved on.

  Jolie fell asleep at the table, her head resting on her arms, her body leaned forward in the chair, her gorgeous brown hair falling in curls over her shoulder. Heath was tempted to let her sleep, but decided to risk moving her.

  She’d told him how she’d sprained her back. This position would put her in traction.

  “Shh,” he said softly, lifting her in his arms. He loved the way she felt, her soft skin, loved her subtle jasmine perfume. “It’s just me.”

  Thanks to her and her stubborn insistence on aquatic therapy, he was strong enough to carry her down the stairs without stumbling.

  He’d faced his fear of the ocean, and while it still got his attention, he handled it. Just as he’d be doing as soon as dawn came.

  Heath put her on the bed they’d shared until a few days ago. Stupid of him to let Rajah press his buttons when he could have had more days, and nights, with Jolie.

  He covered her up with the soft blue crocheted afghan her mom had made and closed the door behind him.

  He’d be keeping watch all night. Just in case.

  Rajah was his first choice for screwing tonight up. How, though, he couldn’t figure. But Jamison was a close second. Both men had full access to the boat, and the engine.

  A third runner up was Randall Wallace, but that was more wishful thinking on his part and he knew it.

  Unless Randall had hired someone to mess with the engine? Someone like Jamison or Rajah?

  He sat on the deck, in the deep night, wrapped up in the lone fleece he’d brought from Utah, hoping he was wrong. Slowly, as hours passed, birds started to chirp and the still dark had a lighter cast. Heath decided as soon as he could see his hand in front of his face that it was as good of a time as any to check the engine.

  Since the boat had no power, that meant underwater. Unless there was enough juice in the generator? Heath, stiff from sitting outside all night, got up and stretched. He
peered into the shadows of the marina parking lot, but he didn’t hear anything besides the damn birds. A row of pelicans slept together on a series of pilings. Starlings and sparrows darted around, searching for that worm.

  He went to the cockpit and pushed the power button. The boat sputtered to life and Heath quickly hit the switch to lift the engine from the water. He heard the whir and groan from the axle as it protested, and then the power shut off with a violent shudder.

  “Damn it.” Heath got up from the cockpit and walked to the stern of the party charter. Yesterday’s pretty flowers drooped festively across the deck in sepia like an old-time photograph.

  He peered over the edge of the boat and saw that the engine was partially in and partially out of the water.

  Heath shivered. “Looks like I’m going in.”

  He didn’t know what to look for. Maybe it would be nothing. Stripping down to his boxers, Heath lowered the fold-out aluminum stairs and, teeth chattering, slipped inch by agonizing inch into the murky cold canal.

  He took a deep breath, not screaming even when something slid by his toes. Was that a nibble? Oh God…don’t think about it. Just don’t think about what might be down there.

  He sank all the way in and swam around the side, his search eased by the glowing light of dawn. There, stuck between two rods. Not a firecracker, but a metal device. Waterproof?

  Heath felt sick as hell.

  Jolie wasn’t having a run of bad luck.

  It was sabotage.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Jolie woke up to the boat rocking and then settling down as if the generator had been started up, but quit. It wasn’t meant to last more than a few hours, and it had done it’s time.

  Her to-do list was a mile long. She slipped from bed, wondering how she’d gotten here. Remembering, then, Heath’s sweet caress as he’d laid her down. Covered her up. Left her alone.

  She bolted from the room. God, had he left? Had he promised to stay just so she’d sleep? He couldn’t go without saying good-bye.

  He couldn’t go, period.

  Jolie raced up the stairs in her bare feet, her white pants and silk top from the night before giving her a ghostly cast in the dawn. The stern. She made it to the deck and turned right, running along the slip-proof decking.