eyebrows.
“Well, at least you’re not a ‘slub,’ ” she commented, before climbing into the stern. She tooka pair of sunglasses from her shirt pocket and put them on, then plopped a straw hat on her head. Starting the motor, she said, “Cast off, Dallas.”
He pulled the bow rope off the anchor piling, and stuffed it under his seat as she cast off the stern line. Under her guidance, the small boat drifted purposefully away from the dock and the other boats, and out into the bay.
While they rode steadily toward their unknown destination, Dallas studied Cass. She was dressed in cheap thongs, threadbare jeans, and a man’s old white shirt, which was about six sizes too big for her. Her hair was in a loose topknot again, the stray tendrils swirling softly around her face in the light breeze. She looked almost like a young girl. Except for her eyes, he thought. Behind her lightly tinted sunglasses, he could see an anxious expression in them. He remembered now the redness that hinted at a restless night.
“Did you sleep at all last night?” he finally asked, absently grateful for the same breeze pushing cool air against his short-sleeve knit shirt.
“Barely,” she replied, looking past him to the traffic on the bay. “I kept Jean up all night, too, I think.”
“Jean?”
She glanced at him, then away. “I … I couldn’t stay at my place, so I went over to hers for the rest of the night.”
He could understand her feeling; alone and vulnerable in a house where someone had already tried to break in. She would have been insane if she’d stayed.
“What did the police say?” he asked.
“Just that whoever it was had scratched up the metal pretty badly around the lock. It sounded like they meant an amateur, so I figured a kid.” She smiled wryly. “I think I would have been a whole lot happier if he’d picked a night when I wasn’t home.”
Dallas chuckled at her observation. “Install a burglar alarm. I assume you don’t have one. You didn’t say.”
“I don’t have one. But I think I will after last night.” She shivered in the hot sunlight. “It’s silly to be scared of a kid.”
He refrained from saying that if there were a next time it might not be a kid. She didn’t need another nebulous anxiety; she was clearly suffering from a few, as it was. He decided she’d been wise to come out on the boat. A day of quiet fishing would be relaxing. Leaning his elbows back on the prow, he vowed to give her easy, no-pressure companionship. After what she’d been through, she deserved it.
From beneath hooded lids, he watched her expertly bring the boat across the bay and into one of the numerous inlets. The noise of the boat traffic gradually faded as they made their way around islands of tall sea grass. The breeze disappeared too. The air grew heavy and pungent, and the sun seemed even hotter. Silently Dallas cursed the heavy jeans and the knit shirt he was wearing. Perspiration was already trickling down the sides of his face. He knew he’d feel like a slowly roasted turkey before the day was over. Not only did Cass look gorgeous, but she was no doubt cool and comfortable too.
Cass finally brought the boat to a halt next to one of the islands. Dallas sat up and glanced around. “I never realized that fish used these inlets. Do they breed here?”
“Some do. But we’re catching crabs, Dallas, not fish,” she explained.
“Crabs?” He frowned at her. “But you just caught some the other day.”
“I’d catch them every day, if I could. I have this thing for them.” She chuckled. “Kind of like what Nero Wolfe has for shad roe. Have you ever read the Rex Stout books?”
Dallas nodded. “Wolfe’s a favorite of mine. I remember that he eats roe every day that it’s in season.”
“Just like me.” She dropped a small anchor weight over the side, then started rummaging through the gear. She baited a line with a piece of fish. “Since I like crabs very fresh, I decided years ago
“Well, at least you’re not a ‘slub,’ ” she commented, before climbing into the stern. She tooka pair of sunglasses from her shirt pocket and put them on, then plopped a straw hat on her head. Starting the motor, she said, “Cast off, Dallas.”
He pulled the bow rope off the anchor piling, and stuffed it under his seat as she cast off the stern line. Under her guidance, the small boat drifted purposefully away from the dock and the other boats, and out into the bay.
While they rode steadily toward their unknown destination, Dallas studied Cass. She was dressed in cheap thongs, threadbare jeans, and a man’s old white shirt, which was about six sizes too big for her. Her hair was in a loose topknot again, the stray tendrils swirling softly around her face in the light breeze. She looked almost like a young girl. Except for her eyes, he thought. Behind her lightly tinted sunglasses, he could see an anxious expression in them. He remembered now the redness that hinted at a restless night.
“Did you sleep at all last night?” he finally asked, absently grateful for the same breeze pushing cool air against his short-sleeve knit shirt.
“Barely,” she replied, looking past him to the traffic on the bay. “I kept Jean up all night, too, I think.”
“Jean?”
She glanced at him, then away. “I … I couldn’t stay at my place, so I went over to hers for the rest of the night.”
He could understand her feeling; alone and vulnerable in a house where someone had already tried to break in. She would have been insane if she’d stayed.
“What did the police say?” he asked.
“Just that whoever it was had scratched up the metal pretty badly around the lock. It sounded like they meant an amateur, so I figured a kid.” She smiled wryly. “I think I would have been a whole lot happier if he’d picked a night when I wasn’t home.”
Dallas chuckled at her observation. “Install a burglar alarm. I assume you don’t have one. You didn’t say.”
“I don’t have one. But I think I will after last night.” She shivered in the hot sunlight. “It’s silly to be scared of a kid.”
He refrained from saying that if there were a next time it might not be a kid. She didn’t need another nebulous anxiety; she was clearly suffering from a few, as it was. He decided she’d been wise to come out on the boat. A day of quiet fishing would be relaxing. Leaning his elbows back on the prow, he vowed to give her easy, no-pressure companionship. After what she’d been through, she deserved it.
From beneath hooded lids, he watched her expertly bring the boat across the bay and into one of the numerous inlets. The noise of the boat traffic gradually faded as they made their way around islands of tall sea grass. The breeze disappeared too. The air grew heavy and pungent, and the sun seemed even hotter. Silently Dallas cursed the heavy jeans and the knit shirt he was wearing. Perspiration was already trickling down the sides of his face. He knew he’d feel like a slowly roasted turkey before the day was over. Not only did Cass look gorgeous, but she was no doubt cool and comfortable too.
Cass finally brought the boat to a halt next to one of the islands. Dallas sat up and glanced around. “I never realized that fish used these inlets. Do they breed here?”
“Some do. But we’re catching crabs, Dallas, not fish,” she explained.
“Crabs?” He frowned at her. “But you just caught some the other day.”
“I’d catch them every day, if I could. I have this thing for them.” She chuckled. “Kind of like what Nero Wolfe has for shad roe. Have you ever read the Rex Stout books?”
Dallas nodded. “Wolfe’s a favorite of mine. I remember that he eats roe every day that it’s in season.”
“Just like me.” She dropped a small anchor weight over the side, then started rummaging through the gear. She baited a line with a piece of fish. “Since I like crabs very fresh, I decided years ago
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