I didn’t care how much his leg hurt: I made him write four checks before he left, one for each of us. Blair and Joey laughed at me, but I didn’t care. They hadn’t pumped gas and waited tables to earn that money. I figured a full refund was the least he could give us. Patrick didn’t argue. He pulled a damp checkbook out of a locker and signed four checks.
“Simon...sail my boat back to the marina,” he said as he handed them to me. It sounded more like a plea than an order.
I met his eyes, and he looked away. I had a lump in my throat for some reason. “I will,” I said. “We all will.”
The two officers said that they would just get brief statements from the rest of us now, and that they’d take full statements back at the police station in Port Hardy. Their idea of brief wasn’t much like mine, and it seemed to take forever. They spoke to us one at a time, taking all kinds of notes and asking a million questions.
After my turn was over, I sat in the cockpit, stared out at the sky, feeling depressed. It was all over, and it had all been for nothing. They were letting Victor and Keith get away. I was going to have to go home and back to work and school. I hadn’t got my yachting association qualification, and I was going to have to say goodbye to Joey, Blair and Olivia.
I never thought I’d feel this way, but I didn’t really want to say goodbye to any of them. We were a team now, the four of us. And Olivia...well, I especially didn’t want to say goodbye to Olivia.
Just then, she joined me in the cockpit. “What’s with the gloomy face?” she whispered.
I shrugged, not wanting her to know too much of what I’d been thinking. “I just wish they’d go after Salty Mist. If the cops don’t hurry, they’ll never find them.”
A slow smile spread across her face. “Sure they will,” she said, and her grin stretched even wider. “We took all their extra fuel and their tank was almost empty, remember? All that chasing around in circles after us...” She laughed. “They won’t get far. They’ll be floating in the channel just waiting for the cops to come pick them up.”
A huge weight lifted off my chest. I’d forgotten about their tank being so low. I put one arm around her and gave her a quick sideways hug. “Olivia, you...you’re all right.”
“You’re not too bad yourself,” she said.
Finally all our statements had been taken. “Can you get this boat back to Port Hardy on your own?” Constable Grey asked. “We need to catch up with the Salty Mist. And neither of us knows how to sail.”
I shrugged. “Patrick asked us to take the boat back. And it shouldn’t be a problem, now that no one’s trying to kill us,” I said. “We’ll be fine. We know what we’re doing.”
For the first time, the two cops grinned. They got back into the rcmp boat and gave us a quick wave. “Remember, you need to go down to the police station,” Constable Hilliard reminded us. He laughed. “And if you see anything suspicious between here and there, do me a favor and just keep sailing.”
And then they were gone, and it was just the four of us again. We raised the sails and Jeopardy flew across the shining water, heading for Port Hardy. It wasn’t long before we could see buildings along the shore.
“It’s almost over, isn’t it?” Olivia said. “I mean, this is it.”
“Yup,” Joey said. “I guess we’re going to have to call our folks and head home.” He sighed. “Man, I need a decent night’s sleep.”
“You’ve slept more than any of us,” Blair said grumpily. “Anyway, I need a shower more than anything.”
I laughed but I felt sad. I couldn’t imagine being back at home, trying to explain all this to my parents, and going back to my job at the gas station. I looked at Patrick’s check. In a few days, I thought, this would all feel unreal, like it never happened. “I wish we could just keep sailing,” I said impulsively. “Just take Jeopardy and head south. Mexico, maybe. Or Hawaii. Or though the Panama Canal and into the Caribbean.”
Olivia gasped. “Simon! You’ve just given me the best idea.”
“What?” I looked at her. The sun was behind her, and her wild black hair was outlined with gold. “You want to steal Jeopardy?”
She laughed. “Better than that. I want you to come with me to the Caribbean.”
I stared at her. “You mean, to sail with you and your dad and his—”
“Child-bride. Yeah.” She shrugged. “It’d be more bearable if you were there too.”
“But, what would your dad say?”
“I’ll just tell him you’re part of the deal.” She made a face. “He feels so guilty about leaving me and Mom he’ll agree to anything. Besides, he’s been begging me to come forever. He’ll be thrilled.”
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely.” She winked. “Plus I might mention something about how you saved my life. That won’t hurt.”
My cheeks were hot. “I didn’t.”
“Sure you did.” She brushed my protests aside. “Will your parents let you come?”
I thought about it. Dad wasn’t keen on sailing, but to be fair, he never stood in my way if I really wanted something. And Mom? She’d go on about how she’d miss me, but she’d be thrilled for me too. School had never been my thing, so no one would be surprised that I wasn’t heading straight to college in the fall. And my folks knew I wanted to work with boats in one way or another. Of course, I’d need a plane ticket...I stuck my hands in my pockets and my fingers brushed the edge of Patrick’s check. I felt a grin as wide as the ocean spreading across my face. “Yeah,” I said. “They’ll be cool with it.”
Olivia didn’t say anything. She just nodded, like everything was settled.
I looked out at the sun sparkling like tiny diamonds on the water. Maybe, I thought, delivery skippers didn’t always have to sail alone.
A few years ago, Robin Stevenson bought a thirty-foot sailboat called Tara, fixed it up and left Lake Ontario with a plan to sail to the Bahamas. Despite knowing very little about sailing, she arrived safely in the islands a few months later. She spent a year living aboard her sailboat and is now ashore in Victoria, British Columbia. Robin is the author of several books for children and young adults.
More information about Robin and her books is available on her website: www.robinstevenson.com.
For more titles in the Orca Sports series, please click here.
Dead in the Water Page 9