River Traffic
Martha Brack
Martin
Orca soundings
ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS
Copyright © 2016 Martha Brack Martin
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Martin, Martha, 1967–, author
River traffic / Martha Brack Martin.
(Orca soundings)
Issued in print and electronic formats.
ISBN 978-1-4598-1336-6 (paperback).—ISBN 978-1-4598-1337-3 (pdf).—ISBN 978-1-4598-1338-0 (epub).
I. Title. II. Series: Orca soundings
PS8626.A77255R58 2016 jC813'.6 C2016-900546-1
C2016-900547-X
First published in the United States, 2016
Library of Congress Control Number: 2016931883
Summary: In this high-interest novel for teens, Tom gets involved in smuggling on the Detroit River while trying to save the family marina.
Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.
Cover image by iStock.com
ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS
www.orcabook.com
19 18 17 16 • 4 3 2 1
This book is for my first family, the Bracks, and my second family, the Martins.
The former gave me dreams to dream, and the latter are my dreams come true. I love you all.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter One
I had only seconds to spare. The other machine was right on my tail. If I turned too soon, I’d be dead.
I squeezed the throttle and pulled ahead a few more meters.
I risked a second glance back at the other Jet Ski in my wake. It was closing in! I carved the water as I swung my machine to the right…
And suddenly I was airborne.
I felt the yank on my life jacket as I flew off, taking the ignition key with me. Then a shock as I hit the cold river water.
Coming up, I checked on my machine. It was nearby, bobbing in the waves. Nate held the steering wheel. He didn’t look as thrilled as I thought he would. After all, he’d just won our race.
“You beat me! Why aren’t you happy?” I yelled. Nate was looking past me, over my shoulder.
I whipped my head around.
Dominik Oleg, the biggest jerk in the world, was in a sleek speedboat idling just behind me. His ride must have cost at least $80,000. He looked down at me as I bobbed in the water.
“Of course he won.” Oleg smirked, moving his boat closer as Nate brought my Jet Ski over. “You could never win any race with that piece of crap, LeFave.”
“He could have if you didn’t swamp his machine!” Nate yelled over the motor.
“Hey, I can’t help it if your friend doesn’t know how to drive, Murphy. Maybe you shouldn’t hang around with losers. Stick with the guys on the team.”
Just because Oleg was the quarterback, he thought he could tell the rest of the team what to do. Especially the younger ones like Nate.
“I can pick my own friends, thanks.”
I was glad to see Nate wasn’t backing down. I just hoped Oleg didn’t make him pay for it later.
“Whatever.” Oleg pointed at my Jet Ski. “Did you borrow that from your daddy’s dumpy marina? Bet no one else wanted it.”
“Shut up, Oleg. At least I paid for my machine myself. I didn’t need my daddy to buy it for me.”
Oleg’s eyes flared. I knew I’d hit a nerve.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, LeFave. I’m making so much bank right now, I don’t need my father to buy me anything. And it’s only gonna get better,” he bragged.
“Yeah, sure it is. ’Cause you’re a high roller. In your mind at least,” I said.
“Listen.” Oleg pointed at Boblo Island behind him. I could just see the row of million-dollar mansions through the trees on the shore. I knew he lived in the biggest one. “You boys are playing in my backyard. And you’re way out of your league.” He suddenly honked his boat’s horn, scaring the crap out of Nate and me. His grin was a nasty threat.
“Don’t play with the big boys. You won’t like how the game ends.”
Chapter Two
I had lots of time to think about my run-in with Dominik Oleg the next day after school. I was volunteering at the LaSalle police station. I did it every Monday after school for a couple of hours. Nate’s dad was one of “LaSalle’s finest.” He knew I needed the hours to graduate.
“Are you still only able to help out Mondays, Tom?” Nate’s dad asked.
“Yeah, sorry, Officer Murphy. Dad needs me after school at the marina the other days. At least until winter.” Working for Dad at our marina didn’t pay well—or at all—but he needed me. We were struggling as it was. Since Mom left, Dad’s heart wasn’t in the business.
That’s why Oleg’s cracks really bugged me.
“You let me know if things change. You’re a good help around here.”
“That’s nice of you to say. But I know I don’t do much. I try though.”
“I always knew you’d do well here.” He looked around the new station. “You’re a kid who pays attention. You’d make a good cop.”
“Thanks.” I could feel a big grin take over my face. “I love helping out here. I get to hear what’s going on. It’s interesting.”
“It is, at that. People think a small town like ours has nothing happening. But we have our share of crime.”
“Maybe it’s in our blood. Because of our rum-running history, I mean.” I grinned.
LaSalle really took off in the 1920s and early ’30s. That’s when Prohibition made it against the law to buy or sell booze. Canadians could still make it though. Most of our area got in on the smuggling of Canadian booze to Michigan. Our marina is built on one of the creeks my dad’s family used for sneaking whiskey across the river.
“I’m not sure our history has much to do with it,” Nate’s dad said, smiling. “Our town is growing fast. It’s not surprising people find a way of getting into trouble.”
“I guess. You guys seem to have your hands full with speeders and small-town stuff.”
He laughed. “We don’t tell you everything, you know.” Then he got more serious. “Listen. You know how I said you were good at paying attention?”
“Yes, sir.” I wondered where this was going.
“Nate told me you boys were out on the river yesterday.” Was Officer Murphy going to lecture me about racing with Nate?
“With the weather still so nice, the traffic on the river is almost as busy as in summer. We could use some more eyes out there.” I must have looked confused, because he went on. “Just let me know if you see anything unusual.”
“Okay, sure. I can do that.”
“Around your marina too. I mean, you’re right
on the river there.” He was looking at me closely. “Have you noticed any strangers?”
“No, sir. We aren’t exactly super busy. New people would stand out.”
“Okay,” Nate’s dad said. “I’ve said this to Nate too. But we both know he’s about as observant as mud.” We laughed as he headed back to his office.
Soon it was time for me to leave. I grabbed my backpack and said goodbye to the dispatcher. As I walked through the outside door, Officer Murphy popped his head around the partition.
“Just remember what I said, Tom.” He paused. “Keep your eyes and ears open around the river.”
Chapter Three
Saturday morning at our marina isn’t exactly busy. I wanted to sleep in, but Dad expected me to be on the job at eight. Since Mom left, he’d been staying up later and later. In the last couple of months he’d started working in the old shed at the waterfront. At least, he says he’s working. I’m not allowed to go out there anymore, so who knows? I don’t smell booze on him or his clothes, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s slugging back a few out there. He’s in such a cranky, crappy mood all the time, I’m not willing to push my luck and explore.
Our marina still has regulars, but they’re mostly locals who’ve kept their boats here for years. Dad’s always been a great mechanic—he can fix anything—so that draws a few customers too. Still, the fancier marinas have all the bells and whistles. We don’t usually get much traffic.
That’s why I was amazed when a Carver 43 Super Sport pulled into our channel. She was incredible! I wished Dominik Oleg could see her parked in our marina. She put his boat to shame. I estimated she was worth close to half a million.
The sun reflected off her bimini cover, so I couldn’t see who was driving. I expected the yacht to reverse any second. I wasn’t stupid—our marina wasn’t up to the standards of a boat like that.
I couldn’t believe it when the pilot moved the Carver into docking position.
I ran and tied up the rope on the bow. As the pilot shut off the engine, I moved to the stern. I was just reaching to grab its mooring rope when I heard footsteps.
That’s when I got my second surprise.
A pair of long, curvy, suntanned legs started down the steps—and I almost stopped breathing. The legs were followed by cutoff denim shorts that fit really well. Thank God the owner of those legs didn’t see my face before I realized I was standing there, stunned, with my mouth wide open. I snapped back to reality just in time to close it before the rest of her came into view.
“Hey there!” the girl said in a cute Southern accent. She was smiling from ear to ear with this great smile I knew would haunt my sleep for days. She couldn’t have been older than seventeen or eighteen. She pointed at the mooring rope I still held. “Thanks for giving me a hand. I’m Kat. Well, really Kathleen. But no one calls me that except my dad.” She put out a tanned hand for me to shake.
“Hi. Welcome to LeFave’s Marine and Repair.” I gestured behind me with a little ta-da motion and tried not to look embarrassed. “I’m Tom LeFave.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Tom LeFave.” She pointed at the yacht. “Can we get a docking slip for the Southern Comfort tonight?”
I didn’t know what to say. We had plenty of empty slips. She could see that with her own eyes. But why did she want to dock her beautiful, pricey boat at our small marina? The Southern Comfort was way too classy for LeFave’s. Just like she was way too classy for me.
I guess I took too long to answer. She raised her eyebrows (which I noticed were as perfect as the rest of her.) “Is there a problem, Tom? Aren’t you open?”
“No problem. We are open. I just…” I paused. Dad would kill me if I let her and her amazing boat get away. “Are you sure you’ll have everything you need here? I mean, we do our best, but we’re pretty small. No bar or restaurant or pool.”
She smiled that amazing smile again. She looked relieved. “Your spot here is perfect. I really want to check out the local rum-running history. I’m kind of a history buff. I wanted to dock close to town. Then I could explore on my bike before we continued up the river.”
“Oh.” I shrugged. “Okay then. And you’re right. You’re in the middle of local history. Our marina land was actually used by rumrunners back in the day. The creek was already here. My shady ancestors just improved it.”
“That’s amazing! So you come from a long line of bad guys?” Was she actually flirting with me?
Before I could answer, we both heard noises coming from the cabin of the Southern Comfort. We turned in time to see a bald, angry-looking guy shove open the glass door that led to the cabin of the yacht. He was huge—solid—and at least six foot four. He scanned the marina in one quick glance. Then his eyes squinted as they found mine.
“Where in the hell are we, Kathleen? And who in the hell is this?”
Chapter Four
“Daddy!” Kat looked embarrassed. “That’s no way to say hello!”
Daddy? This scary guy was someone’s father? Kat’s father?
“How was your nap?” she asked.
He wasn’t about to be distracted. “Kathleen, where are we? What have you been up to while I’ve been sleeping?” His Southern accent wasn’t as strong as Kat’s. He still looked angry, but at least he wasn’t growling or swearing anymore.
“This is LaSalle, Daddy. On the Ontario side of the Detroit River. We’re just north of Boblo Island.” Kat’s dad started to speak, but she put up a hand to stop him. “I know you wanted us to dock at Boblo. But I really wanted to check out the rum-running history here.”
“You and your history.” He smiled. It made him look less scary.
“We can move on to Boblo in a day or two. You aren’t due before then, right?” Kat’s dad shook his head. “I thought if we stayed here, I could take my bike tomorrow and ride around. Check out the town.”
Kat’s dad stopped smiling right away. “You are not going biking around a strange town on your own, Kathleen! And I can’t take you.” They shared a funny look. “You know what I’ve got going on.”
“What if I found someone to take me around?”
I’d seen enough girls at school trying to get guys to do what they wanted. I knew a pro when I saw one. Kat clearly knew how to work her dad. “This is Tom LeFave. His family owns this marina.”
Just like that, I was part of her plan.
“Hi, sir. Nice to meet you.” I offered him my hand. I was kind of afraid he might snap it off. Even though I was supposed to be hanging out with Nate the next day, there was no way I could let Kat down. Nate would totally understand. It wouldn’t be polite to leave her on her own. Or friendly. Or smart.
Did I mention she was perfect?
“I’d be happy to take Kat…er… Kathleen around town, sir. I can show her all the historical spots. LaSalle is a very safe town. And we have bike paths.”
Kat threw me a grateful look.
Her dad did not.
“Are you sure you aren’t just stringing me a line? We don’t know anything about you.”
“There’s not much to know, sir. I live here. I’m sixteen. I get good marks, and I play hockey.”
“Are you any good?”
“I’m all right.”
Kat’s dad gave a big sigh. “We can talk about it more tomorrow,” he said.
Kat looked happy, so I figured that was a yes, even if he didn’t say it. Then he gave me a scary look again. “And if I do say yes, you’d both better be back here by five,” he added.
“Absolutely, sir.”
“Now Kathleen, since we’re going to be here for the night, let’s pay and get supper going. You’ve got your schoolwork to do, and I’ve got a few calls to make tonight.”
Kat turned to face me. “I’m being homeschooled. Or boatschooled, I guess.” She smiled again. “Dad has to travel a lot for work. Since I wanted to come, I said I’d do my courses for eleventh grade online.”
Eleventh grade? I couldn’t believe she was the sa
me age as me. She looked older for sure.
Before I could ask her where home was, her dad cut us off.
“Come on, Kathleen. I’ll go pay and you can get started on the cooking. And Tom, I’d appreciate it if you’d hook us up to the marina’s pump-out station.”
Kat smiled apologetically as she turned to board the Southern Comfort. We’d both been given our orders. She was cooking. I got to empty the bathroom tanks.
“See you tomorrow?” she asked. “How’s 9:00 am?”
“Perfect.”
By the time I got finished all my marina chores, our Saturday-night pizza was waiting for me. Dad was in the office, talking on the phone. I was inhaling my fifth slice when I realized Dad’s voice was getting louder.
“I have to do this, Joe. I need the cash, and I need it fast.” I had no idea who Joe was. And I knew all of Dad’s friends.
I found myself getting up to listen more closely, even though I knew it was wrong.
“If I can’t pull this off, I could lose the marina.” His voice dropped. “And I can’t lose it, Joe. It’s not just my job. It’s Tom’s home. We’d be out on the street.”
Holy crap! I had no idea things were that bad. What was Dad trying to do? I knew the marina wasn’t bringing in a lot of cash, but we always seemed to scrape by. He sounded so worried.
My mind raced as I tried to think what to do. Maybe another part-time job?
Dad’s sigh brought me back from my thoughts. His voice was just a whisper on the wind as I strained my ears to listen.
“The marina is all we have left, Joe.” He paused. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep it.”
Chapter Five
I tossed and turned all night, trying to figure out what was going on with Dad and the marina. He had sounded so desperate. Not like himself at all.
I gave up trying to sleep when the sun came up. I dragged my tired body through my chores. I figured I’d clean the front office while I waited for Kat. Maybe I’d find clues about what was going on.
River Traffic Page 1