Well, mostly I
refused. There was still a little guilt.
We went back
out on the deck together, and sure enough, Mary Parsons looked ready to tackle
Charlie, and not for the usual reasons that women wanted to. She asked him aside and he went, suddenly all
smiles and charm.
If I thought it
was safe, I was mistaken. Jacob caught
my arm and pulled me aside.
"Listen,
Joe, is there any way we can stay on board tonight?"
"Of
course you can. Hell, you're paying for
the trip, right?"
"Well,
yeah, but I didn't know if that meant nighttime accommodations."
"Well,
they probably aren't the most comfortable, but I've got a few extra cabins I
had set aside, just in case."
He nodded, his
sad face looking as close to happy as I'd seen. "They'll do, as long as there's a bed."
"Why the change from the hotel, Jacob?"
"Mary and
I want to be here tonight and maybe a few more nights depending on what
happens."
"What
happens?"
He nodded his
head. "Yeah. We want to see if you have a repeat
performance with the girl from last night."
"Be my
guest."
"We'll
have a little equipment along."
"Long as
it doesn't sink the yacht, we're in good shape."
After that, it
was time for a late lunch and I cooked for a change of pace. The fish was damned fine and while we ate,
the professor regaled his students with tales of my fishing prowess that left
me ready to blush. Some of them
listened, but most of them were ready to call it a day after doing their best
to accurately map out the reef.
I cooked. Tommy got to clean up again. He didn't seem to mind too much, except for the
part about not hanging around with the college girls. Before we raised anchor and headed for the
docks, I went for the slop bucket I'd used to gut our dinner. The bucket was still there, but was knocked
on its side.
There was
nothing left inside it but a little fish blood. It wasn't unsettling so much as it was weird. No one on my crew would have been careless
enough to dump the bucket and not put it away. I wouldn't have hired them if they were the sort to do that. A bluefish is a damned big animal, and I'd
cleaned and scaled one and left the nasty bits in that damned bucket. If what I took out of the thing weighed less
than fifteen pounds, I'd sell the Isabella to the first bidder. There hadn't been
any waves, and I knew the wind hadn't caught the bucket and knocked it
over. Besides, the deck was clean.
It was
possible that one of the passengers had done it, but I didn't think so. I don't think any one of them would have
considered it, seriously.
But the bucket
was empty and the evidence was right in front of my eyes. So was a sign of the culprit.
There was a
thick trail of seawater that spilled over the side not far from where the
bucket lay. I wouldn't have given it
much thought, would have probably just taken for granted that it was a spill
from earlier, but first, I saw Tommy take care of swabbing the deck and second,
the divers had come up on the other side of the yacht.
In the end I
decided to let it go. I rinsed the
bucket and stowed it where it belonged and barely gave it another thought.
Remember what
I said earlier about Belle liking mysteries? I would have never made a detective in one of her novels.
6
Charlie wasn't
thrilled about the idea of having a couple of parapsychologists hanging around
on board the Isabella . He didn't have much say in the matter. Way I looked at it was that they were paying
the bills and that meant they could stay on board if they wanted to. He'd just have to deal with it.
I called Belle
after we docked. I'd only been gone for
a day and was already missing the hell out of her. One of the things I have always loved about
my chosen profession is that I seldom had to stay out overnight and I had never
had to commute across the country in order to get any business done. I know people who spend half of their time on
airplanes and in
refused. There was still a little guilt.
We went back
out on the deck together, and sure enough, Mary Parsons looked ready to tackle
Charlie, and not for the usual reasons that women wanted to. She asked him aside and he went, suddenly all
smiles and charm.
If I thought it
was safe, I was mistaken. Jacob caught
my arm and pulled me aside.
"Listen,
Joe, is there any way we can stay on board tonight?"
"Of
course you can. Hell, you're paying for
the trip, right?"
"Well,
yeah, but I didn't know if that meant nighttime accommodations."
"Well,
they probably aren't the most comfortable, but I've got a few extra cabins I
had set aside, just in case."
He nodded, his
sad face looking as close to happy as I'd seen. "They'll do, as long as there's a bed."
"Why the change from the hotel, Jacob?"
"Mary and
I want to be here tonight and maybe a few more nights depending on what
happens."
"What
happens?"
He nodded his
head. "Yeah. We want to see if you have a repeat
performance with the girl from last night."
"Be my
guest."
"We'll
have a little equipment along."
"Long as
it doesn't sink the yacht, we're in good shape."
After that, it
was time for a late lunch and I cooked for a change of pace. The fish was damned fine and while we ate,
the professor regaled his students with tales of my fishing prowess that left
me ready to blush. Some of them
listened, but most of them were ready to call it a day after doing their best
to accurately map out the reef.
I cooked. Tommy got to clean up again. He didn't seem to mind too much, except for the
part about not hanging around with the college girls. Before we raised anchor and headed for the
docks, I went for the slop bucket I'd used to gut our dinner. The bucket was still there, but was knocked
on its side.
There was
nothing left inside it but a little fish blood. It wasn't unsettling so much as it was weird. No one on my crew would have been careless
enough to dump the bucket and not put it away. I wouldn't have hired them if they were the sort to do that. A bluefish is a damned big animal, and I'd
cleaned and scaled one and left the nasty bits in that damned bucket. If what I took out of the thing weighed less
than fifteen pounds, I'd sell the Isabella to the first bidder. There hadn't been
any waves, and I knew the wind hadn't caught the bucket and knocked it
over. Besides, the deck was clean.
It was
possible that one of the passengers had done it, but I didn't think so. I don't think any one of them would have
considered it, seriously.
But the bucket
was empty and the evidence was right in front of my eyes. So was a sign of the culprit.
There was a
thick trail of seawater that spilled over the side not far from where the
bucket lay. I wouldn't have given it
much thought, would have probably just taken for granted that it was a spill
from earlier, but first, I saw Tommy take care of swabbing the deck and second,
the divers had come up on the other side of the yacht.
In the end I
decided to let it go. I rinsed the
bucket and stowed it where it belonged and barely gave it another thought.
Remember what
I said earlier about Belle liking mysteries? I would have never made a detective in one of her novels.
6
Charlie wasn't
thrilled about the idea of having a couple of parapsychologists hanging around
on board the Isabella . He didn't have much say in the matter. Way I looked at it was that they were paying
the bills and that meant they could stay on board if they wanted to. He'd just have to deal with it.
I called Belle
after we docked. I'd only been gone for
a day and was already missing the hell out of her. One of the things I have always loved about
my chosen profession is that I seldom had to stay out overnight and I had never
had to commute across the country in order to get any business done. I know people who spend half of their time on
airplanes and in
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