Tangled Lies

by Connie Mann

  Sasha filled her in on what she’d learned from Mr. Hess about the unknown car, the reactions of the shopkeepers, the odd timing of Captain Alby’s death. “I’ll get back to it tomorrow, but tonight I’m taking a night charter.”

  “I didn’t think Pop was doing them anymore since Mama got sick.”

  “He’s not. Demetri and Roy hired me. Said they had tickets to a play and their wives wouldn’t forgive them if they bailed. I haven’t been out in the Gulf at night for a long time, so I’m looking forward to it.”

  She paused, debated. Eve would tell her if she was being stupid. “So, um, Mr. Hess said something weird.” She told her all about Pop’s odd reaction.

  “Can you blame him?” Eve shot back. Then she added, “Though it doesn’t seem like the right reaction, does it? Seems like he’d have been in the thick of it, frantic like everyone else.” Another pause, longer this time. “Unless . . .”

  “Right. Unless . . . he knew or suspected or . . . I don’t know. It feels wrong to even have this conversation.”

  “You need to ask him.”

  “What? No. I can’t ask him that.” Sasha stood and paced, but even as she said the words, she knew Eve was right. She sighed. “Oh, God, Eve, what if—”

  “Don’t borrow trouble, as Mama always says. Just toss the question out there, see if he’ll talk to you about that day. He never would before, remember?”

  “Maybe he fell apart and is embarrassed at how he acted, or didn’t act.”

  “You need to ask him.”

  “I will. But you can’t push me on this, Eve. I need to do this my way, when the time is right.”

  “But I—” Eve cut herself off. “Right. OK. So, have fun on that charter. Catch me a nice big fish, would you? Fresh seafood without an insane price tag is hard to come by here.”

  “I’ll give it my best shot.”

  Sasha hung up and saw a family of four headed her way. European, definitely, based on the too-short shorts on the father. When you added the varying shades of blond hair and Dad’s sandals worn with black socks, she decided these were her charter. She walked down the dock to greet them and held out a hand.

  “Good evening and welcome to the Safe Harbor Marina. You must be the Habershams. I’m Captain Sasha and I’ll be your guide this evening.”

  The dad’s eyes narrowed a bit, but his wife’s twinkled. “You are der Kapitän?”

  “I am,” Sasha said with a wink at the woman. She shook the hands of a boy and girl of about sixteen and fourteen, respectively, who were wearing the long-suffering looks of teenagers everywhere.

  “I don’t like fish,” the girl said.

  “To eat or to catch?” Sasha asked. The girl crossed her arms, and Sasha thought she looked a lot like Blaze. “Fishing can be very relaxing, and if you don’t want to eat your catch, I’m sure your brother would be happy to help you out.”

  “I’m going to catch a big von,” he said. His accent and confidence made her smile.

  “Then let’s get this party started,” Sasha said as she held the shop door open. “Feel free to get whatever snacks you’d like to take along. I have sandwiches from the restaurant in town, as well as water and sodas.” While the family wandered the shop, she loaded the rolling cooler Roy had dropped off earlier.

  She secured the cooler behind the helm and went back inside to collect her guests. As she reached for her captain’s bag, she noticed an envelope poking out the top, her name scrawled across it in big black letters. Inside, she found a single sheet of paper printed with what looked like a black felt-tip marker.

  Stop looking for Tony. For your families sake.

  For a moment Sasha just stared. Then a chill settled in her belly and spread through her entire body. Someone had threatened her family.

  “Sasha? Hey, Sasha.” Jesse touched her arm and she jumped.

  She folded the paper as she turned to him. “What brings you out here?”

  He studied her, eyes narrowed. “What’s going on? You’re pale and your hands are shaking.”

  She tried to tuck the paper back into the envelope, but Jesse took it from her when she couldn’t quite manage it. She watched his eyes widen, then darken with fury. “When did you get this?”

  “Just now, hence the shaking and everything.”

  “They spelled family’s wrong,” he said, pointing.

  “So I’ve ticked off an ignorant meanie?” Sasha tried to joke, but it fell flat.

  “I’m trying to get a sense of who wrote this.”

  Sasha wrapped her arms around her middle, trying to ward off the chill. “I know. And I’m trying to stay calm.” She had to think, plan, figure out her next steps. Make sure her family stayed safe.

  Mr. Habersham appeared at her elbow. “We are ready, madam, whenever you are.”

  Sasha nodded and reached for her bag. Right now, she had a job to do. She held out her hand for the envelope.

  “What are you going to do with that?”

  She glanced at her guest, then back to Jesse. “I haven’t decided yet, but whatever it is, it will have to wait until morning.”

  Jesse nodded. “Do you have all the gear?”

  “Already aboard.” She turned to Mr. Habersham. “Let’s be on our way.”

  She helped everyone aboard Captain Demetri’s Fair Isle, started the engines, and went over the safety features and equipment. Jesse waited on the dock, and at her signal untied the lines.

  He hopped aboard just as she pulled away from the dock.

  “What are you doing?”

  He grinned, but Sasha caught the worry in his eyes. “I’m your first mate tonight.”

  She glanced over at the elder Habershams, who watched the two of them with interest, to their son, who looked out to sea with his hand shading his eyes, to their daughter, who already had her phone out, texting busily.

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  The couple whispered in German, and for a moment, Sasha wondered if they had been hired to do something to her while they were out tonight. She shook her head at her own foolishness. Still, someone had threatened her family. Maybe suspecting everyone, given the timing of the note, wasn’t as crazy as it sounded.

  “Did you leave Bella at the house tonight?” Jesse stood beside her at the helm, and for one second, Sasha wanted to ask him to wrap her in his arms and hold tight. She pushed the thought away. She couldn’t, wouldn’t lean on him, physically or emotionally. When she left—and she would; she always did—she didn’t want to hurt him. She’d never considered how her actions would affect others before, since she normally didn’t think that far ahead. But this was Jesse, and he mattered. Maybe too much.

  She glanced up and realized he was still waiting for an answer. Bella. Right. “I left her planted at Mama’s feet. Bella could tell something was up, so she wouldn’t leave.”

  “Intuitive dog, your Bella.”

  Sasha shrugged, not sure how to explain. “Bella had been abused, was almost dead, actually, when I found her. She’s seen me through some hard days, too. She has a keen instinct to protect and comfort. I was glad to see it directed at Mama tonight.”

  He stepped up behind her and massaged the tension from her shoulders. “Now you have me as your watchdog,” he whispered.

  The words touched her in ways fancy poetry never could. She stared as he walked over to Hans, the Habershams’ son, and showed him how to choose the right hook and get a live pinfish on it as bait. Sasha finally found her tongue and started her tour-guide patter, surprised at how easily she fell into the spiel she’d learned as a teen. She talked about the different fish they might catch, spun tales of memorable catches of yesteryear that had Hans wide eyed, and explained the Gulf’s moods and temperatures and the many varieties of sea life that called it home. All the while she kept her eyes out for dolphins, always a hit with guests.

  The tip of Hans’s pole bent down sharply, and he shouted, “I got von. I got a big von.” The elder Habershams crowded around as Jesse hel
ped him reel it in. Sasha stayed at the helm and kept the boat steady while Jesse coached the teen on the best technique to use. Since they’d left the marina, the wind had picked up slightly, and the boat rocked gently in the water, which made landing the fish more of a challenge.

  Once they got the snook into the boat, Jesse held the measuring stick next to the fish while Mrs. Habersham took photos of the triumphant fisherman displaying his catch. Jesse deftly removed the hook and tucked the fish into the cooler.

  A while later, Hans asked, “Where did you say the sandwiches were, Kapitän Sasha?” They’d been out about two hours, and by now he and his parents had all caught several good-sized gray snappers. Katie, his sister, wouldn’t even look at the fishing poles, determined to sulk over her cell phone. Sasha handed out the food and snacks.

  Katie unwrapped her sandwich and wrinkled her nose. “Tuna fish?” She handed it back. “Nein danke.”

  “Katie,” Mrs. Habersham scolded and followed it with a spate of German.

  “I’m sorry,” Katie mumbled, clearly not sorry. Sasha dug in the cooler and took out the turkey sandwich with her name on it. She handed it to Katie. “This is the only other option. Sorry.”

  Katie nodded and took a tentative bite, then almost smiled. Sasha called that a triumph.

  All eyes were focused on a pod of dolphins playing nearby when Katie said, “I don’t feel so good,” and promptly threw up. Sasha stepped over, grateful the teen had leaned over the side of the boat. She offered paper towels and a bottle of water to rinse her mouth. “Better?”

  The teen nodded. “I want to go back.” She turned even paler and leaned over the side of the boat again.

  Once the dolphins swam away, Mr. Habersham looked between his daughter and his son. “I think we need to go back, Kapitän Sasha.”

  “I agree.” She looked at Hans’s disappointed expression. “I don’t think you’re going to do much better than that snook. The Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission is very particular about size with them. They have to be caught in season, and be between twenty-eight and thirty-three inches long. Yours fits right in that slot.”

  Hans grinned and lounged back on the seat, quite proud of himself. Mrs. Habersham hovered over her daughter. “Are you all right, Katie? Do you need something?”

  Katie lay back on the bench seat, a towel over her face. “Leave me in peace, please.”

  Jesse moved to stand beside Sasha, and they exchanged a knowing glance. German teens didn’t seem a whole lot different from their American counterparts. But right now, they had a more serious issue.

  “Mr. Habersham, I’d like to call the local paramedics and have them meet us at the dock to check on Katie, just in case it’s a bit more serious than seasickness.”

  The parents whispered in German, then nodded. Sasha used her cell phone to call it in and guided them back to the marina.

  The paramedics wheeled a stretcher down the dock while Jesse hopped out to secure the lines.

  Mrs. Habersham kept close as the two men examined Katie.

  After a few minutes, the older paramedic snapped off his gloves and reached for his clipboard. “We’d like to take her in overnight, get some fluids into her, make sure everything is OK.”

  Katie immediately protested, and Mrs. Habersham asked, “Is that really necessary?”

  The paramedic smiled. “Always better to be safe than sorry, ma’am.”

  As they packed their gear and prepared to transport Katie to the county hospital, Sasha stepped beside the gurney and asked quietly, “Is there any sign this might be, ah, poison of some kind?”

  The older paramedic’s bushy gray brows rose almost to his hairline. “Do you have some reason to suspect poison?”

  “Maybe, but I hope not.”

  He eyed her sternly. “You need to call the police, ma’am.” He scribbled on his chart. “But I’ll have the doctor check for that, too.”

  “Thank you. I will.”

  Mrs. Habersham climbed into the back of the ambulance with her daughter. Once they were gone, Mr. Habersham eyed the cooler. “Would you know where I can find someone to clean the fish?”

  Sasha set the cooler by the fish-cleaning station. “I’ll be happy to do that for you right now.”

  She and Jesse expertly cleaned the fish, then loaded the Habershams’ catch into a Styrofoam cooler filled with ice to take along.

  Before they left, Mr. Habersham tried to hand her a hefty tip, but she politely declined. What if it really was poison? She hosed off the fish-cleaning station, then turned to clean and secure Demetri’s boat, surprised to find that Jesse had already done it.

  He leaned against a piling, arms crossed. “The girl got sick eating the sandwich you brought.”

  “I know. I brought it down from the house earlier and put it in the little fridge in the marina office.”

  “Anyone could have gone back there and tampered with it.”

  “Or maybe the mayo went bad. Or maybe she just got seasick.”

  “I’d buy that if you hadn’t just gotten a threatening letter.”

  Sasha tucked her hands into the pockets of her cargo shorts.

  “Yeah, me, too.” She huffed out a breath and paced the length of the dock. When she came back, she stopped in front of Jesse. “Why would someone be that adamant that I stop looking? I get that the town wants to forget it happened. But this is taking things too far. The only reason that makes any sense is that Tony didn’t drown. Or maybe he did, but somebody knows how, or why, or . . . something.”

  “You going to call the chief?” He kept his tone casual, but Sasha heard the concern in it.

  “I need to let him know, at least. Though I’m sure he’ll pass it off as someone not wanting me to bring up the past.”

  Jesse studied her face long enough to make her squirm. “It’s more than that.”

  She nodded. “This search has folks running scared, and that makes me wonder why.”

  Jesse nodded and gave her a quick hug. “Go get some sleep. Lock all the doors. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Sasha went up to the house and peeked in on Mama, who slept in her recliner in the living room. Bella raised her head when Sasha entered the room. Her tail thumped once, then she settled down and went back to sleep.

  Sasha checked all the doors and windows and went to bed, but she knew she wouldn’t sleep. An hour later she gave up and went outside to sit on the porch, wrapped in an afghan Mama had crocheted years ago.

  Had Katie simply gotten seasick? Or had someone tampered with her sandwich?

  Sasha wanted to howl in frustration. How had this simple—though nigh impossible—search for answers turned dangerous? She wasn’t worried about her own safety—she was more than capable of taking care of herself. Whoever was behind this had threatened her family, which meant they knew what mattered to her. Memories of the car crash that killed her biological family made goose bumps pop out on her skin. She pulled the afghan tighter.

  She couldn’t let something like that happen again. Not if she was alive to prevent it.

  All the questions boiled down to one: What happened to Tony? Everything hinged on that.

  She rocked for a while, head back, watching the moon play across the slight waves, listening to water lap against the pilings. She must have dozed for a while, because when she looked up again, the moon floated higher and slid in and out of view behind some clouds.

  She heard a low hum and realized that was what woke her. A pickup approached the boat ramp, pulling an empty trailer. His lights were off, but maybe he didn’t want to wake her parents. Still, not even running lights glowed in the darkness.

  The moon shifted behind a cloud, and Sasha strained to see who was loading a boat in the middle of the night. It wasn’t that uncommon, but the way this person behaved seemed stealthy. Like they had something to hide.

  She stayed where she was, eyes trained on the water, but the angle of the dock kept her from seeing the approaching boat. She heard the
boat motor shut off, then splashes as the truck slowly pulled the boat from the water and stopped in the shadows. Long minutes passed as she watched.

  When the truck finally drove past, she strained to see, but all she could make out of the boat was a dark, formless shape, which meant someone had covered it before they left. She tried to determine the type of truck or catch a glimpse of the driver, but couldn’t.

  As the engine noise faded, she sat up straight. Wait a minute. Had someone stolen a boat? Maybe Jesse’s Painted Lady? Not on her watch. She tossed off the afghan, tiptoed off the porch, and ran full out to the marina. But when she got to Jesse’s slip, The Painted Lady rocked gently right where she was supposed to.

  Just in case, she walked up and down the dock, checking every slip. Every boat was accounted for.

  She stopped, tried to slow her racing heart. She had to get a grip or her imagination would make her nuts. Nobody had stolen a boat. It was probably just a local fisherman with an expensive boat he wanted protected on the ride home.

  Except, you had to rinse salt water off a boat and especially out of the motor, or it would corrode in a hurry. Nobody covered a boat that hadn’t been washed down.

  Unless they had something to hide.

  “Could be someone just doesn’t want anyone digging around in the past,” the chief said when he arrived at the marina the next morning. “Folks don’t like to remember tragedy.”

  Sasha shot Jesse a triumphant look. He simply raised his eyebrows.

  “What if that’s not it, Chief?” Sasha asked.

  Chief Monroe looked up from studying the threatening message and frowned. “What do you mean? That someone in this town actually had something to do with that little boy’s disappearance? And then they poisoned your sandwich?” He threw his head back and laughed, long and loud. “Sasha, honey, if you believe that, then you’ve been gone longer than I thought. People round here don’t do things like that. Leastways they sure didn’t back then. Don’t forget, my daddy was nearly chief then, and I’d just joined the force straight from the police academy. Got high marks in all my classes, too.” He rocked back on his heels and dared them to contradict him.