by Kara Lennox
But Reece was staring out to sea. “Isn’t that the Dragonfly? Heading away from the marina?”
Damn it. It was. Cooper dialed. “I want to report a stolen boat.”
He explained the situation to the patient emergency operator. Reece put some money on the table for the breakfast they would never eat, and they took off. It looked as if Allie was staying close to the coast. They could follow along the coast road in their car and maintain visual contact until the Coast Guard could catch up with her.
“I knew she was up to no good,” Cooper said as they ran to his BMW. “She probably realized the jig was up once we took a good look at those financials. I’ll bet there’s evidence she was skimming the profits, embezzling. She’s probably been socking it all away in a Swiss bank account, and now she’s going to sell the boat to some black-market boat dealer who’ll use it to run drugs, and Allie will be on the first plane to Brazil.”
“That’s a very interesting scenario you’ve worked out,” Reece commented as Cooper drove like a maniac to the main road that paralleled the coast.
“Can you see her?”
“Yes. Slow down. You know, she’s not moving very fast for a woman with a hot boat. And why wouldn’t she set a course farther out from shore?”
“Not all criminals are smart.”
They followed along, sometimes pulling to the side of the road to let the Dragonfly catch up with them, sometimes zooming ahead when waterfront structures blocked their view.
“Allie doesn’t strike me as stupid,” Reece said.
“Yeah, well…you know, I was almost starting to like her. I was starting to feel bad about evicting her from the boat. I was actually starting to wonder if maybe Johnny had misled her, made her promises so she wouldn’t leave him. Just goes to show how gullible I am. She almost had me with her devoted-employee act.”
“I think I see a Coast Guard cutter.”
“Really? That was fast.” Cooper had mixed feelings about seeing Allie dragged off in handcuffs. She was a heckuva sailor. He’d been looking forward to sailing with her until their court date. Well, he’d have to learn as he went.
“They’re still pretty far away,” Reece said, “but they’re heading straight for the Dragonfly.”
Cooper had to keep his eyes on the congested roadway, so he relied on Reece to report everything. “What’s the Dragonfly doing?”
“Just putting along at about three knots. Looks like maybe she’s heading into that little cove up ahead. There’s a big sign-Sinclair Marine.”
“Maybe it’s a chop shop for boats. They’ll take off the name and the serial numbers and replace ’em with-oh, no.”
“What?”
“The sign, underneath Sinclair Marine. What does it say?”
Reece squinted. “Fiberglass Boat Repair, Dry Dock.”
A terrible suspicion occurred to Cooper. “Did I tell you about hitting the rock yesterday?”
ALLIE WAVED TO THE COAST GUARD cutter to let them know she was okay. They probably could see the boat listed to one side and had come to check on her.
“Dragonfly. This is the U.S. Coast Guard.”
Good Lord. They were calling to her on a bullhorn. What was wrong with the radio?
She waved again and smiled, since she could see one officer had binoculars trained on her.
“Cut your engines and prepare to be boarded.”
What? She complied immediately. She never messed with the Coast Guard.
The cutter pulled alongside her and two stern-looking officers leaped aboard with their weapons drawn.
“All parties on deck now. Keep your hands where we can see them.”
“It’s just me,” Allie called from the bridge. “I’m coming down the ladder. I don’t have any weapons, promise.”
The two officers met her as she descended. “We have a report this boat has been stolen.”
Cooper. “Hmm. Well, since I am the owner of the boat-you’ll find it registered to me-I hardly think that’s true. I am, however, in violation of a court order. The ownership is in dispute and I’m not supposed to sail it on my own. But it’s an emergency. As you can probably tell, the boat is taking on water and I’m headed into Sinclair Marine for repairs. I left a message for Cooper Remington on his cell phone.
“Cooper Remington,” she repeated. “That is who made the stolen-boat report, right?”
The officers both took a step back, giving her some space. “Have a seat,” one of them said. “I’ll be right back.”
He stepped off to confer with his captain.
“See that man on the dock?” Allie said to the other officer, pointing toward shore. “That’s Mr. Sinclair. He’s expecting me.” She waved to him, and he waved back.
The other officer returned. “Apparently there’s been a misunderstanding. We’ll escort you in.”
Yeah, now that she was a hundred feet from her destination.
She wasn’t too surprised to see Cooper and Reece standing on the dock waiting for her as she pulled the Dragonfly into a slip where a hoist would haul her out of the water.
“I’ll need to gather a few things,” she called to Otis, who had guided her in. “Just keep her from sinking until I can pack up. How long till you can get to her?”
Otis Sinclair was a portly old man whose family had owned this business for three generations. He did the best work and charged the fairest price of anyone in these parts. Consequently he was always booked.
He gave her a worried look as he chomped on his unlit cigar. “Be a week, at least.”
She groaned. A week with no work, and that was assuming the repairs would be routine. But she had an even worse problem. With the Dragonfly in dry dock, she had no home.
She quickly gathered up a few clothes and toiletries and stuffed them into a backpack. She also unloaded what little perishable food was left in the fridge and put it in a couple of plastic grocery sacks. At least she wouldn’t starve for a day or two.
By the time she disembarked, one of the Coast Guard officers was in serious discussion with the Remington boys. Good. She hoped he gave them hell for jumping to conclusions and wasting the Coast Guard’s time.
When he saw her, the officer broke away from his conversation and offered her a dazzling smile. “Ms. Bateman. Sorry to have inconvenienced you. My name’s Jimmy, and if you need anything you don’t hesitate to call.” He handed her a card.
Behind him, Cooper rolled his eyes.
The officer rejoined his boat and took off, and Allie sauntered up to her nemesis. “Check your voicemail lately?”
At least he had the good grace to look embarrassed. “Um, yeah. Sorry about that.”
“Is that all you have to say? ‘Sorry about that’? First you knock a hole in my boat, and then you try to have me arrested, and that’s the best you can do?”
“I’ll pay for the repairs.”
“I’m counting on that.” Otherwise she would have to make an insurance claim, and that took time.
“It was an honest mistake.”
“You actually thought I was stealing my own boat!”
“He thought you were going to sell it to a drug dealer,” Reece added, looking like he was about to burst out laughing.
Cooper shot him a scathing look. “You’re not helping. Look, Allie, let me make it up to you. Can I buy you breakfast?”
Like that would solve anything when she was homeless? “You can give me a ride to the Bella Motel,” she said. It was kind of a dive, but it was the cheapest digs in Port Clara and they rented by the week. “I need to establish a base of operations and start calling the customers who are booked for the next seven days-at least-and try to reschedule or find them an alternative charter service.”
“I’ll help you make calls,” he offered as he took her backpack from her as well as the bag of food. “Why don’t you stay at the Sunsetter?”
“Because I can’t afford the Sunsetter,” she said pointedly.
“It’s on me. This is all my fault. I’l
l take care of all your expenses until the Dragonfly is back on her keel.”
“It’s kind of you, but I don’t want to be your kept woman. The Bella Motel is fine.”
Reece snorted. Obviously he was finding the situation amusing.
She did, too, in a way. It was almost worth suffering through this disaster, just to see the great Cooper Remington eating crow. Almost, but not quite.
COOPER SLOWED DOWN AS HE approached the Bella Motel, which was anything but bella. Probably built in the 1950s, it looked as if it hadn’t been updated since. The U-shaped, one-story building squatted in a semi-industrial area, and the sign indicated you could rent by the hour.
“Allie, you can’t stay here. This doesn’t even look safe.”
“I have a gun, remember?”
“Stay at the Sunsetter. I’ll pay for it.”
“It’s not necessary. Anyway, I wouldn’t feel comfortable living under the same roof as you.”
“Come on, admit it, you don’t really hate me. In fact, you’re starting to like me a little bit.”
“When hell freezes over.”
Reece cleared his throat. “Maybe I should leave you two lovebirds alone.”
Despite her protests, Cooper drove away from the Bella Motel and took her to the Sunsetter. “This is where you’re staying if it’s on my dime.”
“Fine,” she snapped. “But we damn well better be too late for breakfast, because I’m not eating those cream puffs.”
“WON’T MISS GREER SKIN YOU alive for raiding her refrigerator?” Allie asked later that afternoon as Sara put together a plate of cheese and crackers.
Allie was starving. She had spent the past couple of hours shuffling her various bookings, rescheduling a few but mostly placing them with other charter services. She hated to lose the business. A couple of them were longtime customers.
She’d been so busy she’d forgotten lunch, but Sara, always watching out for her friends, insisted Allie eat something.
“Don’t worry, this is from my private stash,” Sara said. “Miss Greer gives me one shelf in the pantry and one in the fridge.”
“It’s probably more room than I have on the Dragonfly for my personal groceries. I could get used to having this big kitchen to cook in.” And the enormous shower with its twin sprays, and the huge four-poster bed with three feather pillows. She could hardly wait to sleep in it tonight. Though it galled her that Cooper had manipulated her into staying where he thought she should stay, she wasn’t really sorry he’d won that argument.
She told herself all the time that she was a simple person with simple needs. She needed food, a dry bunk, and she needed to be near the ocean where she could see the sky and smell the salt air.
But suddenly being thrust into the Sunsetter’s luxurious surroundings reminded her she had other needs. Like a need for scented lotion, and lipstick, and a place to go where lipstick wouldn’t look out of place. Silk panties…and someone to appreciate them.
“So how was your trip, other than the porn film?” Allie asked after three crackers put a dent in her hunger. “We haven’t talked much since you got back.”
Sara wrinkled her nose. “Not worth talking about. Guy turned out to be a jerk.”
“Oh, so there was a guy involved.”
“Isn’t there always?” Sara crunched down on a cracker.
“Do you ever think about settling down with just one?”
Sara shrugged. “Nah. I’m too restless for that. Besides, I’ve never found a guy who didn’t get on my nerves after a while.” She paused and looked out the window, deliberately not meeting Allie’s gaze. “But I do want children.”
“Really?”
Sara stood suddenly. “I forgot to offer you something to drink. Juice?”
“Sure, whatever.”
“Don’t you want kids someday?” Sara asked.
“No room on the boat for kids.”
“But you don’t have to live on the boat forever. Most of the other captains have homes in town. They have wives and kids.”
“Maybe someday,” Allie said lightly, though she wasn’t really comfortable talking about this and wished she hadn’t brought it up. Now wasn’t a good time to think about living a more mainstream life. If her commitment to Remington Charters wavered even a little, she was afraid Cooper would find the chink in her armor and exploit it.
“So tell me more about the Remingtons. I made them breakfast this morning, and they didn’t seem like devils.”
“Appearances are deceiving. They ignored Johnny for twenty years, remember. But as soon as he died they gathered around like vultures.”
“Have you asked them why they stayed away?”
“There’s no good reason not to see your family while they’re alive.”
“What about your uncle? You haven’t seen him in, like, ten years.”
“That’s different! Uncle Daniel is a thief, a criminal. He took my inheritance away from me and squandered it. I don’t ever want to see him again, and I damn sure won’t come calling when he dies.”
“But what if he left you something in his will?” Sara persisted. “You wouldn’t take it? You wouldn’t figure he owes it to you?”
Hmm. She’d never thought of it that way.
“I’m just saying that you don’t really know what their family history is.”
“All I know is that Johnny had no intention of giving them the Dragonfly. I know it and they know it. They’re pulling legal tricks to try to defraud me out of my boat.”
“I’m on your side in this.” Sara squeezed Allie’s shoulders. “Don’t worry about that. But it’s possible the Remingtons aren’t evil incarnate. Not everything is black and white.”
Allie didn’t want to hear this. It was easier to avoid shades of gray.
With her hunger temporarily sated, Allie grabbed her backpack and headed out, hoping to escape the Sunsetter without running into any Remingtons, but wouldn’t you know it, she stumbled upon a whole nest of them in the parlor.
Reece had her ledgers and other papers spread out over a card table; he was so engrossed in his audit that he didn’t see her try to sneak through to the front door. But Cooper and the other cousin-Max?-saw her. They both looked up from their study of a laptop computer; legal pads and what looked like reference books were scattered across a coffee table.
“Allie, where are you going?” Cooper asked.
“To find work. While the Dragonfly’s in dry dock, I still have bills to pay.” She was hoping one of the other captains would hire her on as a temporary deckhand or cook.
Heck, she’d even hire on a commercial fishing vessel, though most of those guys were superstitious about allowing a woman on their ships.
She intended to intercept the pleasure boats as they came in for the evening, and the commercial boats as they prepared to sail for night fishing.
“Have you had anything to eat today?” Cooper asked. “I did promise you a meal.”
“I just ate. Another time.” She noticed, then, that Max had a fat lip and a black eye. “What happened to you?”
He flashed her an easy grin. “Your neighbor took a swing at me. He thought I was getting too familiar with his wife.”
Ugh. Scott Simone. Allie didn’t know how Jane put up with the guy-he was a complete jerk. Then again, it gave Allie a petty grain of satisfaction that one of the Remingtons had been on the receiving end of Scott’s legendary temper.
Maybe that explained why Jane and Scott had departed so abruptly. Scott had probably insisted they return to Houston. He knew Jane loved her time in Port Clara, so he punished her by dragging her away from it. It wasn’t the first time Scott had accused Jane of flirting inappropriately with another man, though Allie knew her neighbor was just friendly, nothing more.
“Why don’t you work for me this week,” Cooper said. “It’s my fault you don’t have any money coming in.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” When she realized he wasn’t, she asked, “What in the world could
I do for you?”
“Consultant. We have a lot to learn about the charter fishing business. Max is putting together a preliminary marketing plan, but we could use your input.”
“Putting together a marketing plan for a business you might or might not own.”
Cooper shrugged one of his broad shoulders. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
Clearly he was confident he would prevail. What did he know that she didn’t? Her will was dated after his. End of story. Wasn’t it?
Curious about their marketing plans, she sidled over to the coffee table. They’d apparently been studying a number of brochures and magazine ads for rival charter services.
She picked up a tri-fold piece of paper with some crude sketches, which she guessed was a mock-up for their own brochure.
“That’s really rough,” Max apologized. “I’m a concept man, not an artist.”
“The last word on luxury charter fishing,” Allie read, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Champagne and starlight cruise? Gourmet meal included?”
“We think Remington Charters can pull in a much larger profit if we tap the luxury travel market.”
“In Port Clara.”
“Why not? We’ve got three major metropolitan areas within easy driving distance. If we can give them more luxury for less money than they can get in Corpus Christi or Galveston, why wouldn’t they come to us? But we have to let them know we’re here. How much money do you invest in advertising and marketing?”
Not much, especially lately when she was merely trying to keep her head above water.
“It’s all spelled out in the records,” she said evasively, nodding toward Reece.
“Not enough, I’m guessing,” Cooper said. “Your competitors have splashy ads in every travel and tourist publication out there. You have only a few. And the Web site is woefully out of date.”
“The logo’s really good, though,” Max observed. “Who designed it?”
“It was my idea, but Jane designed it. You know Jane. Her husband slugged you.”
Max seemed to deflate. “Oh. Guess I can’t hire her, then.”
“Max is starting his own advertising and P.R. firm,” Cooper explained. “Remington Charters will be its number-one client.”