Melissa Good - Terrors of the High Seas

Another pot held water for pasta, and she put a lid on it before she wiped her hands on a towel and leaned back. “Okay, we’re ready,”

she said. “Coffee just finished. Want some?”

“Surely,” Andrew replied, taking hold of her sleeve. “Go sit yourself down and relax. Ah’ll grab it.” He tugged. “G’wan.”

358 Melissa Good Kerry decided to humor him. She eased out from the galley and walked over to one of the chairs, dropping into it and leaning back.

She watched her father-in-law setting the cups on the counter and fixing the coffee, his motions measured and precise as always. She saw Dar in that. Her partner had the same unconsciously methodical way of doing things. “Hey, Dad?”

Andrew glanced at her and raised one grizzled eyebrow.

“Are you okay with our dinner plans, or are you just humoring your daughter?”

A twinkle appeared in his blue eyes. “Waal…” He picked up the coffee cups and walked over, setting Kerry’s down and folding his big hands around his own as he took a seat next to her. “One thing Ah done learned about my kid—she does something, it’s got a reason,” he said. “She ain’t the frivolous type.”

That forced a chuckle out of Kerry. “Uh, no. That’s very true.”

“So, if she wants us to mix up, Ah figure we’ll all survive it,”

Andrew said. “Don’t you worry, Kerry. Ah know you had a tough time the past few days. Nobody’s gonna make this a bad night for you if Ah can help it.”

“Thanks.” Kerry smiled at him with quiet affection. “But I think it’s been tough for all of us. Bud didn’t have any picnic out there.”

“No,” Andrew said. “That’s true enough. He done all right though. Coulda been a lot worse. Them fellas on that there boat were mean folks.”

Kerry sipped her coffee. “Mean people really suck.”

“Yeap.” Andrew put his cup on the small table and leaned forward, letting his elbows rest on his knees. “Hell of a thing to go on during your R and R,” he said. “You two should go find some quiet spot for a bit now.”

“We are,” Kerry said. “We’re going to spend a few days at the cabin. We figure we can’t get into too much trouble there.”

Andy snorted softly.

“Yeah, I know. I suggested Niagara Falls, and Dar said it’d probably stop flowing while we were there and we’d get blamed.”

Kerry sighed. “I think we’re fated for that sort of thing.”

“Waal,” he reached out and patted her knee, “least you know if you get into trouble, you got family to call on to help you out.”

Kerry blinked at him, then exhaled. “That’s true.” She nodded.

“That’s kind of new for me.”

Andrew nodded back, his expression serious. “Ah know that, Kerry, ’cause it’s the same thing Ah had with my own folks,” he said. “When Ceci and Ah ran off, they scratched me off the front page of the Bible, so Ah know what it feels like to have your own kin turn their backs on you.”

“It sucks.”

Terrors of the High Seas 359

“Yeap,” Andy agreed. “It does that. Took me a long time to get past it.”

“But you did.”

“Yeap,” he said again. “Ah come to realize you can’t figure nobody else’s attitudes. All you got control over is your own, so Ah got mine and just put them all out there.” His eyes met hers. “Ah ain’t talked to my folks in thirty-some years.”

Kerry leaned forward until they were almost knee-to-knee. “Do you ever feel guilty about that?”

“Some,” Andy admitted. “Ah was close with my ma,” he said.

“But Ah knew the hating wasn’t on my side, and living mah life with Ceci made it worth all the trouble.”

Kerry took his hand and squeezed it. “Thanks.” He winked at her. She grinned, then found herself pulled to her feet as Andrew stood and offered her a hug, which she accepted willingly. “You rock.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, kumquat.” Andy patted her on the back and released her. “Don’t you worry about me and the boys.

’Bout time we flushed that old mess down the bilge anyhow.”

“Okay.” Kerry smiled. “Now all I have to worry about is whether or not everyone likes fish.”

“Kerry,” Andrew put a hand on her shoulder, “you spend the time putting what we did down the hatch, you like damn near anything that ain’t crawling or made of sandpaper.”

“Ew.”

“Wanna hear about what live crickets taste like?”

“No.”

“How ’bout worms?”

“No!”

DAR WALKED TOWARD the docks, having settled their bill with the hotel and picked up a few last minute things for their outbound trip. The hotel, she was sure, was more than glad to be rid of them, especially since they’d comped their room and only charged them for a few incidentals. Dar found herself just as glad to be vacating it, and had graciously left a decent tip in the room.

As she turned the corner that led to the waterfront, the sound of loud engines made her pause, and she stopped as she saw the big red and white Coast Guard cutter idling into a slip. Dar leaned a hand on the wall and looked at it thoughtfully. She could just walk on past it and get on the Dixie , but her sense of curiosity was getting the better of her and instead she angled her steps toward the boarding ramp the crew was muscling into place.

A tall, blonde officer trotted down the ramp, his steps slowing as he got to the bottom and spotted Dar coming straight for him, 360 Melissa Good making eye contact just to remove any doubt that he was the object of her interest. He stopped at the base of the ramp and waited, twitching his shoulders straighter as Dar closed in. “Ma’am?”

“Captain.” Dar inclined her head. “Mind if I ask you a question?”

“No, ma’am, go ahead,” the officer responded. “What can I do for you?”

Dar collected her thoughts a moment. “We were out in the storm last night,” she began.

“And it was a rough one,” the captain commented. “We were out there ourselves. I trust you got in safely?”

Dar nodded. “Yes. But we radioed in a distress call for a boat we saw out there. I was wondering if you were the ones we talked to, and what happened.”

The man cocked his head to one side. “We had quite a few calls,” he said with an apologetic grin. “What time was it?”

“Late. Eleven, maybe. Out to the southeast of here.” Dar’s eyes flicked to the man’s nametag, then back to his face.

“Ah,” the captain murmured. “Yes, I remember the call. Tell you what, let’s go check the logs.” He turned and led the way back up the ramp with Dar at his heels. “I don’t want to give you the wrong information.”

As she followed the captain on board, Dar gave a friendly nod to the scattering of Coasties busily working. They entered the bridge, and the captain ducked inside the communications room and picked up a book. He brought it out and thumbed through it as she stood there watching.

“Ah.” He leaned on the book. “Yeah, here it is. 11:32 local. Are you the Dixieland Yankee ?”

Dar chucked. “Well, I own her,” she drawled. “She’s a little bigger than I am.”

The captain glanced at her and grinned. “Sorry.” He glanced back down. “SOS reported in with latitude and longitude. We went to those coordinates, Ms…?”

“Roberts.”

“Roberts. But unfortunately, I have to tell you we didn’t find any boat there to rescue,” Captain Culver told her with an apologetic look.

Dar was momentarily stunned. “Ah,” she murmured. “You didn’t find anything?”

“Well,” the captain lifted his hand, “to be honest with you, we didn’t spend a lot of time looking. The storm was about on us and we were pitching like nobody’s business. We didn’t see any boat and our spotlight didn’t pick up any debris, if that’s what you mean.”