Elisabeth Rees - Covert Cargo

“You know Larry,” Kevin replied, straightening out his rumpled clothes. “He’s always got a beef about something. He’s a loose cannon.”

“I’m a loose cannon?” Larry said, widening his eyes and letting out a snort. “That’s rich coming from you.”

Kevin narrowed his eyes at his brother. “You had no right coming in here, shooting your mouth like that. If we weren’t family, I’d call the police and have you arrested for assault.”

Larry rose to his feet and, in a theatrical gesture, pointed to a pay phone attached to a wall. “Go right ahead, Kevin, call the police and file a report.” He crossed his arms. “I won’t stand in your way.”

Kevin stood for a few seconds, hands on hips, looking between Larry and the pay phone.

“Would you like to report this matter to the local sheriff?” Dillon asked. “If Larry attacked you without provocation, you have a roomful of witnesses to back up your story.”

Kevin bent over and rested his hands on his knees like a deflating balloon. “No. There’s no need to involve the police. We’re family. We’ll deal with it our own way.”

Larry began to walk to the door. “If it’s all right with you, Captain, I’ll get back to the station.”

“Sit down, Larry,” Dillon ordered. “I want some answers from you before you go anywhere.”

Larry stopped and cast a sly eye over to Beth, who had partially hidden herself behind the large wooden menu that stood by the front door. Dillon guessed that the next words out of Larry’s mouth would be mean. He was right.

“Well, I figured that you’d want to get back to your date,” Larry said with a curled lip. Then, under his breath, he muttered, “Looks like somebody managed to thaw the ice queen.”

Dillon rested his hands on the waistband of his pants. “What did you just say?”

Larry shrugged. “Nothing, sir.”

Dillon walked to within a couple of inches of Larry and pulled himself up to full height. “You’re sailing very close to the wind, Chief Petty Officer Chapman,” he said in a low voice. “I expect a better standard of behavior from an officer of the coast guard. Get yourself back to the station and I’ll deal with you later.”

Larry saluted, spun on his heel and strode from the restaurant.

The door leading to the kitchen then swung open and a petite blonde woman came out. “Has Larry left?” she asked, darting her eyes around.

Kevin put his arm around her shoulder. “Yeah, he’s gone and good riddance to him.” He turned to Dillon and held out his hand. “I’m Kevin Chapman, owner of the Salty Dog, and this is my wife, Paula. I’m guessing you’re Dillon Randall, the new coast guard captain.”

Dillon shook Kevin’s hand and smiled warmly at Paula. “That’s right. I’m pleased to meet you both. I only wish it was under better circumstances.”

“I’m so sorry for the trouble, Captain Randall,” Paula said. “It’s normally really quiet and peaceful in here.”

Dillon looked around the restaurant. The nautical theme was a little overwhelming. There were fishing nets, helms and plastic crabs attached to the wooden walls and overhead beams. Even the tablecloths had anchors on them, and the salt and pepper shakers were tiny fisherman.

“Yeah,” he said. “This isn’t the kind of place I’d normally expect to break up a fight.” He turned his attention from Paula to Kevin. “Are you ready to explain to me what that was all about?”

Kevin rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Larry’s a hothead. It was nothing. Just a stupid argument about nothing.” He pointed to the kitchen. “I’ve got to get back to my stove.” He gave himself one final brush down, as if dusting off his brother’s fingerprints, and walked through the swinging door, sending the aroma of garlic and herbs blowing into Dillon’s face.

Paula smiled nervously. “Thanks for dealing with those two, Captain Randall. Would you like some lunch on the house? It’s the least we can do.”

“Thanks for the offer, Mrs. Chapman,” he replied. “But I’ve got some business to attend to. I’ll come back another time.”

“Please do,” she said. “We don’t want to leave you with a bad impression of the town.” As she walked back into the kitchen, she turned her head and said, “Welcome to Bracelet Bay, by the way. Mia would be happy to give you a coffee to take out if you don’t have time to stay.”

The waitress smiled and picked up a paper cup from the counter. “Decaf or regular?”

“Regular please,” he said. “But you’d better make it two.”

“Is the other one for Beth?” she asked. “It’s so good to see her in town again.” Her mouth turned down at the corners. “It’s been years since I last talked to her.” She looked behind Dillon’s shoulder to the front door where Dillon assumed Beth was still waiting for him. “I wish she’d stuck around to say hello.”

Dillon spun around. Beth was gone!

He swiveled back to face the waitress. “Where did she go?”

Mia pointed to the door. “She left right before Larry. She looked a little hurt by what he said.”

Suddenly a flashback struck Dillon. He remembered Aziza wandering alone in the desert, at the mercy of those who wanted to harm her.

“I gotta go,” he said, racing for the door, hearing Mia calling after him, “You forgot your coffee!”

He burst out onto the street. He saw Larry ambling back to the station, but no sign of Beth. How could she have been so stupid to have left without him? He had expressly warned her to stay close. The stone in his pocket jumped around with his movement, reminding him of the level of danger she was facing.

He ran to his truck in the vet’s parking lot and his heart leaped with relief on seeing her standing by the passenger door. He found it difficult to contain his frustration when he reached her side.

“You shouldn’t have run out on me. You can’t go taking risks like that.” He heard the harshness in his voice and tried to soften it. “Anybody could be lying in wait for you.” He quickly checked their vicinity as if his words might be proven correct.

Then he unlocked the truck and opened the passenger door for her. “I’d feel a lot safer if you weren’t out in the open. Get in and I’ll take you home.”

Once they were both settled in their seats, Dillon started up the engine and pulled out onto the quiet street that ran through the town. Bracelet Bay’s location, a couple of miles from Highway One, put it off the beaten track, and it retained a quaintness that had surprised him. He loved the way the narrow, winding streets of the town’s center suddenly opened up onto a wide road that ran alongside a vast and crystal-clear ocean. The sandblasted, weathered houses in varying pastel shades reminded him of picture postcards, and the seven hundred or so residents were fortunate to live in such idyllic surroundings. Yet he guessed that, at this moment in time, Beth felt anything but fortunate to be among the Bracelet Bay inhabitants. She was silent, staring into the distance through the windshield, lost in her thoughts.

“I apologize if I was a little hard on you back there,” he said, glancing over at her. “But I wanted you to understand how serious it is for you to put yourself at risk.”

Her voice was small. “I heard Larry call me the ice queen, and I just had to get away. I’m sorry.”

Dillon clenched his jaw. “I’ll be speaking to Larry about that. I won’t stand for bullying on my watch.”

“I don’t expect you to step in and defend me,” she said. “You don’t want to make yourself unpopular when you’ve only just arrived in town.”

“I don’t much care for popularity contests,” he said. “I prefer to do what’s right instead.”