By nine I’d come up empty, and Kat was at the door.
“Hey there. Are you ready to show me LaSalle’s rum-running past?” Kat said. She had this way of flipping her ponytail when she talked. I almost missed her words because my brain was stuck on how amazing she was.
“Sure. I am. I mean, let’s go.” It was hardly a smooth opening. But it got us out the door.
Our marina was one of many along the Detroit River between Old LaSalle and Amherstburg. Most were bigger and fancier, but ours was one of the oldest. It had been in our family for years.
We rode our bikes along the highway that followed the river. Kat was full of questions.
“So did Al Capone really come to LaSalle in the ’20s? I thought he was based in Chicago.”
“He definitely came to LaSalle. Windsor too,” I said. I pulled up at the Tim Hortons. “In fact, there are stories that he stayed in that house right there.” I pointed across the road at a three-story mansion. It was now owned by one of LaSalle’s history buffs. “And Mae West, that blond actress who used to tell guys to Come up and see me sometime? They say she performed there too. The guy who built it liked to bring in big names to impress his guests.” I pointed up to the third floor. “The top floor was where shows happened. He also had quite a few working girls who had little rooms on the second floor. The bad guys dropped by when they came to make deals.”
“No kidding. Sounds like Boardwalk Empire! Did anyone die with all these gangsters around?” Kat asked as she snapped pictures with her phone.
“Not that I know of. Not in that house anyway. But lots of smugglers got killed on the river. There are stories of shootouts over loads of booze. One group of bad guys stealing another group’s stuff. Some rumrunners got killed by the law.”
“I bet it wasn’t easy to catch them.”
“Especially when half of the local cops were probably in on it.” I laughed. “The Chateau and the Sunnyside were both operating back then.” I pointed at the Sunnyside Tavern, now up for sale. “They were speakeasies. Secret rooms and everything.”
Kat looked like I’d offered her a present.
“Can we get into them?” she asked.
“Not today. If we had more time, you might be able to get the real estate agent to show you around.” I shrugged. “There’s a bar in Windsor called Abars that was a big rum-running spot back in the day. It’s still around. Too far to bike though.” I grinned. “If you came back in the summer, we could go on the rumrunners tour they offer in Windsor. And if you can talk your dad into staying longer, I could show you Hiram Walker’s mansion. He’s the guy who made and sold Canadian Club whiskey. He created a whole town from the money he made.”
“We’re only here for a week. And that’s out on Boblo Island. Dad has business meetings there. We have to leave tonight.”
Figures. I finally meet an awesome girl, and she’s just passing through. It bugged me even more when I thought of her on Boblo. It wouldn’t take Dominik Oleg long to spot her. At least she wouldn’t be impressed by his boat. Hers was better!
“I’ll give you my cell number,” Kat went on. “Just in case we can work something out.”
With school, the marina and volunteering, there was no way I’d have time to get together during the week. Still, it was a nice offer.
“That would be great,” I said. We grabbed donuts and drinks and sat while I continued my tour guiding.
“Most of the town got into the smuggling business one way or another. It paid a lot better than growing radishes.”
“Radishes?”
“That’s what LaSalle was famous for before Prohibition.”
“Well, smuggling sure sounds a lot more exciting than radish farming.” Kat smiled. “With all that overgrown shoreline, hiding stuff must have been pretty easy. And with the States just across the river? It had to be pretty tempting.” Kat was silent for a minute, deep in thought as she drank her iced coffee.
“Do you think there’s any smuggling going on around here these days?” she asked.
“For sure at the border. They’re always pulling in people at the bridge and at the tunnel to Detroit.”
“Nothing around here though?” Kat said. “No drugs? Illegal aliens? It seems like it would be really easy to bring stuff across.”
“There was a guy who hired a local fisherman to sneak some people over to Detroit. I just read about it in the paper. In fact, the fisherman first met the guy in charge at Abars. Kind of ironic.” We both laughed. “That’s the only time I’ve heard about people being smuggled. We aren’t exactly the border between Mexico and Texas.”
“I guess. So how did the police catch the guy?”
“Our local cops have a boat. Mounties and customs officers too. Though you don’t see them around much.”
“Well, at least you’ve got them. And the States probably has their guys too.” Kat looked thoughtful. “Ever see any US lawmen in the water around here?”
“Can’t say I have. Doesn’t mean they aren’t there. But none of our regulars have mentioned it.”
As we got back on our bikes and headed for home, I thought about what Kat had said. It would be pretty easy for smugglers to move stuff if no one was looking. How could cops be everywhere on the water? Was this what Officer Murphy was talking about when he said to watch for anything out of the ordinary?
And then it hit me. Kat’s yacht was definitely out of the ordinary. And her dad sure didn’t look like some casual boater. She did explain why they were here—but there were lots of other marinas in the area. Other marinas that were more suited to their pricey yacht. I still didn’t know what kind of business her dad was doing on Boblo. He sure didn’t seem like a three-piece-suit kind of guy.
As Kat turned and smiled at me, I told myself I was crazy. There was no way she was anything but what she seemed—pretty and amazing and honest.
Even if I still didn’t know her last name.
Chapter Six
It took me a few minutes of riding before I got up my nerve. “Hey, Kat. What’s your last name?”
She looked surprised at my question. “Smith. Didn’t I tell you when we met?”
“No. We somehow missed that part.” It was Smith. No mystery. Just Smith. “Where do you live when you aren’t traveling with your dad?”
“Oh, here and there. We’ve moved a lot.” Kat started pedaling faster. “Race you back to the marina!” she yelled over her shoulder. And that was the end of my questions.
When we got back home, I could see Dad was in the office. He had a frown on his face as usual. Kat’s dad was on the yacht, clearly watching for our return. He didn’t look much happier. Kat gave him a little wave as we walked with her bike down to their boat slip.
“Give me your phone and I’ll add my number,” Kat said. We swapped phones. “Thanks so much for taking me around. I really loved it. I’ll call you if I can figure something out. For this week, I mean.”
“Absolutely. Anytime.” I wanted to say something funny or impressive, but I kept thinking about Dad looking upset. “Have a good time on Boblo. It was great meeting you.” I turned to go.
“This is how we say goodbye in the South.” Kat leaned forward and gave me a hug. “You take care now.”
Did I mention she was perfect? She smelled perfect too. Even after a sweaty bike ride in the sun. I saw her dad glaring at me from the deck of the yacht. I let go of her in a hurry.
“You take care too. Have fun on Boblo. It’s full of history. It used to be a big amusement park, for one thing.”
“Yes, I read that. I’ll check it out.”
I wondered how long it would take her to run into Dominik Oleg. They’d both have boats docked in the same marina. It was a small island. The thought of Oleg anywhere near Kat made me want to punch him in the face. Even more than usual.
“Tom! I need you!” Dad’s yell brought me back to reality. I gave Kat a final wave and ran back to the office.
When I got in I could see Dad’s desk was a
mess. I wondered if his bad mood was because he knew I’d been looking around.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“I can’t find this paper I need. I thought I left it here last night. Were you messing around with my desk today?” Dad sounded more bugged than angry.
“I tidied up a bit before I left with Kat. What was on the paper?” I moved closer to the messy pile on the desk. Dad’s body slid in front of me, blocking me.
“Just a letter I got.” Dad’s voice made it clear I’d better not ask any more questions. “Forget about it. I probably filed it already.” He shoved all the papers together in a big pile and hugged them close to his chest. When they were all gathered, he looked at me. “How was your day with Miss Kathleen?”
“Great.” It felt like years since Dad had been interested in talking to me about normal stuff. “I showed her around town. She was really curious about the rumrunners.”
“You sure she wasn’t just curious about you?” Dad raised his eyebrows up and down. “She’s quite a beauty.”
“She is pretty amazing, isn’t she?” I could feel the goofy grin on my face. “I wish they’d stay here longer.”
“I wish they needed some pricey repairs.” Dad’s smile was a little forced. But it was still more than I’d seen in weeks.
Just then the phone rang. Dad’s smile was gone in a flash. He shooed me outside, so I wondered if it was Mom. He kept his voice too low for me to hear.
About ten minutes later I was on the dock when I heard the office screen door slam shut. I was gassing up one of our regular customers’ boats. Dad came around the corner, walking with fast, sharp steps. He headed toward the shed by the water.
I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe it was having Dad back to normal before the phone call happened. Maybe I wasn’t thinking at all.
“Hey, Dad? Why don’t I fry up some bacon and eggs for dinner? We aren’t too busy. We could watch some baseball after we eat. Hang out for a bit.”
Dad’s steps didn’t slow. He didn’t turn his head. His steps took bites out of the path to the shed.
“Dad? Did you hear me?” Nothing.
I tried a new tack.
“Do you want me to bring your dinner to the shed?”
That made him turn around in a hurry.
“Don’t you come anywhere near the shed! I’ll get dinner when I’m ready to eat!” He pointed his finger at me. “Remember, the shed is off-limits to you.” He yanked open the shed’s side door. The inside was a dark mouth. “In fact, you stay inside tonight. I don’t want you roaming around out here. I can handle the dock.”
He must have seen my face, because his voice softened. “No reason for both of us to get eaten alive by the bugs.” He grabbed the shed door to close it behind him. Then he paused for one last comment.
“Promise me you’ll stay inside, Tom. I mean it.”
Chapter Seven
Monday mornings are never fun. Accidentally sleeping in just makes them worse. My sleepless Saturday night was bad enough. Tossing and turning over Dad’s weird warning on Sunday meant I lost more sleep. I guess that was why I didn’t hear the alarm. Thankfully, I had my bike. There was no way I’d ask Dad to drive me.
I was just turning in to the school parking lot when I heard a screech of tires. I whipped my head toward the sound.
A muddy wall of water met me, face-first. I hit the brakes on my bike. Then I wiped at the water dripping down my face. My neck. My whole freaking body.
“SUCKER! You can’t stay out of the water, can you, LeFave?” Dominik Oleg yelled. I could hear his laugh as he zoomed off. His Mustang’s tires were dripping. I knew he’d hit that puddle on purpose. I was drenched in the previous night’s rain.
I locked up my bike and dragged my soggy butt into school. Luckily, my locker was right around the corner. I grabbed my gym clothes and ran to change. I made it to my Sports Leadership class right as the bell rang.
“Why’s your hair wet?” Nate asked. He pointed at my legs. “Is that mud?”
“Oleg,” I said. “He made sure I was fully awake.”
A supply teacher walked in and started setting up. We had some time.
“I wish I knew why that guy is such a psycho to me. What did I ever do to him?”
“Yeah, he really does seem to hate you.” Nate thought about it. “You’re a year younger, but you aren’t scared of him. You don’t care that he’s a big football jock.” He laughed. “He’s not used to that. Maybe it really bugs him.”
“There has to be something more. You aren’t scared of him either.”
“Yeah, but I’m not as popular as you.” I must have made a face, because Nate argued. “It’s true. Everybody likes you. Teachers. Kids. You have that good-guy/leader thing going on. Oleg puts up with me because we’re on the football team together. He can’t go after me. It goes against his code of honor.”
“Yeah, ’cause he’s so honorable.” I rolled my eyes. “You and I are both in this leadership class. And people like you just as much as they like me.”
“Maybe. But I’m not as good in school as you are. And the only way Oleg’s ever going to get an A is if he ‘buys a vowel.’”
I had to laugh. Oleg was no student, for sure. He almost couldn’t play football this year because he failed math last year. It got around the school fast. Lucky for him, the principal cared more about winning than following his own rules. He let Oleg play, but Oleg had to get tutoring. He was taking eleventh-grade math again this semester. Sadly, he was in my class.
“I’m sick of him,” I said. “I’d like to punch him in the face. But then his dad would probably sue me. Or Oleg would win.” I paused. “Maybe both.”
“Just stay away from him,” Nate said. “It sucks that you’ve got to see him in math every day.”
“It’s too bad his dad can’t buy him good grades. He buys him everything else.”
I thought of my dad, struggling to keep our marina afloat. Oleg’s boat was worth more than my dad made in a year.
“Rumor has it his dad cut him off after he bombed his classes last year. His dad is old school. Eastern European. Oleg’s supposed to follow in the family business. Failing is not an option.” Nate took a moment to flip his hair out of his eyes. “I think it really bothered him when you chirped about his dad buying his boat for him. He made a big deal at practice about telling us he’s making his own money. Said he’d be making a lot more soon too.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “He said that when he swamped me. I’d like to know what he’s doing to make all that cash. Did he say? I could really use a job like that.”
“Nope. Just bragged that it would be coming in faster than he could spend it.”
The supply teacher was waving her arms, trying to get our attention. “All right, leaders. It’s time to get started,” she said.
As we began running drills, I couldn’t stop thinking of Oleg. Maybe he was working for his dad. The family business had to be doing well if they lived on Boblo. That seemed the most likely. He wouldn’t want to admit it. It would look too easy. Like his dad was still just giving him money.
Everyone ran off to shower at the end of class. Thanks to Oleg, I didn’t have any other clothes.
I went outside to wait and decided I’d pay a little more attention to Dominik Oleg. I’d try to find out if he really had a job. There was something going on with that guy. I could feel it in my gut.
And I wouldn’t let him sneak up on me again. If nothing else, I’d stay drier.
Chapter Eight
I worked at the LaSalle police station after school. I apologized for showing up in my gym clothes. The dispatcher just laughed, but I felt like a loser. When Nate’s dad showed up an hour later, I apologized again. He was more interested in anything I had to tell him.
“Nate mentioned you had a girl from the States staying at your marina,” Officer Murphy said. “A girl in a super expensive yacht. All Nate could tell me was she’s hot.”
I groaned. “Nate didn�
�t see her. And I didn’t describe her like that. I mean, yeah, she’s pretty, but she’s also really nice. Funny and smart too.”
“I can see why you ditched Nate yesterday.” He smiled, but his eyes stayed serious. “Where’s she from? Did she say?”
“I asked, but she never really told me.” I realized that was kind of odd as I said it. “She and her dad are traveling for his business. They’re at Boblo now. They only stayed the one night with us.”
“What kind of business is her dad in?” Officer Murphy asked. I admitted I didn’t know that either. He looked even more interested. “What did you guys talk about? Did they take you onto their boat?”
I smiled to let him know I could tell he was grilling me.
“Kat Smith is her name,” I began. “I don’t know her dad’s name. He has meetings on Boblo for the next week, so they’re staying there. I did think it was kind of strange they stopped at our marina—their boat was way more high-end than we usually see.”
Officer Murphy jotted down what I told him on his tablet. I went on listing my observations.
“The yacht is called Southern Comfort. I didn’t get on it at all. It’s a Carver 43 Super Sport. Not brand-new but close. Probably worth about half a million,” I finished.
Nate’s dad was really smiling now. “Not bad, rookie. Anything else?”
“Kat said they stayed at our place because she was interested in the rumrunners. She had me take her around town to show her everything.”
Nate’s dad studied what he’d written. “So she asked a lot of questions about our area then?”
“She did. But they made sense. She was curious about how much smuggling went on today. But I couldn’t tell her much.” I shrugged. “I really think she’s honest. Her dad is a scary guy though. Big. All muscle. He doesn’t look like a businessman.”
“Interesting. Any chance you have their boat registration number and can look it up for me?”
All boats have a code made of letters and numbers, like a license plate. The registration shows where the boat normally docks.
“Of course,” I said. “I meant to look it up myself. I forgot once we started hanging out.”
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