it was sensible to live near the source. Bait one of those baskets and drop it over the side, will you?”
He picked up a basket and studied it. It was more like a wire cage, but in this case, all four sides opened flat, with a line attached to the top edge of each side. He assumed the four sides would lie flat until the fisherman drew up the center cord, thereby closing the sides and entrapping the crab as it nibbled on the bait inside. It had been years since he’d been fishing, and he’d never been crabbing before.
“How do you know when a crab is in here?” he asked, turning the basket around to see if he could find some signal device.
Cass smiled. “You don’t. You just haul it up every so often and hope to find one in it.”
“Okay.” Dallas tossed it over the side with a loud splash. The basket’s anchor line slithered over the edge of the boat and disappeared into the water. At the same instant he realized he was supposed to have tied the line onto the boat. Hoping to see it floating on the water, he leaned out over the side. No line.
“Ah … Cass?”
She glanced up from baiting another line. “Yes?”
“How much did you like that basket?” he asked, smiling innocently at her.
“How much did I …” The puzzled frown on her face deepened. “What happened, Carter?”
Searching the water once again, he said, “I didn’t know I was supposed to anchor the line.”
She groaned aloud as she leaned over the side in her own search. “Damn! The current must have taken the line, and now we’ll never find it. A perfectly good basket …”
Dallas straightened and flipped off his loafers, then began pulling off his socks.
“What are you doing?”
“The line’s probably under the boat, and we just can’t see it.” Deciding the jeans would have to stay on, he eased his legs over the side of the boat, then flipped over onto his stomach so he could let himself into the water without upsetting the tiny vessel.
“Be careful, Dallas,” Cass warned, grabbing the edges with both hands as the boat rocked violently. “And watch where you put your feet. Who knows what might be down there.”
“I’m okay,” he said as his feet sank slightly into the squishy bottom. He stood chest high in the cool water. Lord, but it felt good, he thought as the heat that had been building in his body instantly dissipated. Still, he didn’t relish the idea of diving under the murky surface to retrieve the basket. The damn line was too light to have gone down deep, though. Reaching under the boat, he carefully swept around with his hands. The tips of his fingers brushed against something nearly under the hull, and he grabbed at it.
“I’ve got it!” he called out, triumphantly holding the sodden line up for her to see. He stepped sideways, closer to her end of the boat. “Here, you can—”
An agonizing bolt of pain shot through him. something had latched onto his left foot. He yelped, and leaped for the side of the boat, nearly tipping it over. His head hit the cooler, and a second sharp pain jolted to life.
“Dallas!” Cass shouted, scrambling toward him. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Flopping half-in, half-out of the boat, he shouted curses as the pain intensified. He must have walked into a shark, he thought in a panic. He was positive his foot was gone and the maniacal thing was eating its way up his leg. Desperately he tried to shake the monster off. He turned his head in an unconsciously morbid attempt to see what was happening, but the awkwardness of his position and the churning water made it impossible.
Suddenly Cass was laughing. She shouted, “Don’t move! I’ll get the net.”
“The net!” he gasped out. “What the hell … !”
“You caught ‘Jaws’!” she yelled in a clearly gleeful voice. “Whatever you do, don’t move!”
“Don’t move!” he exclaimed angrily, thrashing around even harder with his body at the thought of a huge, gaping-mouthed great white
He picked up a basket and studied it. It was more like a wire cage, but in this case, all four sides opened flat, with a line attached to the top edge of each side. He assumed the four sides would lie flat until the fisherman drew up the center cord, thereby closing the sides and entrapping the crab as it nibbled on the bait inside. It had been years since he’d been fishing, and he’d never been crabbing before.
“How do you know when a crab is in here?” he asked, turning the basket around to see if he could find some signal device.
Cass smiled. “You don’t. You just haul it up every so often and hope to find one in it.”
“Okay.” Dallas tossed it over the side with a loud splash. The basket’s anchor line slithered over the edge of the boat and disappeared into the water. At the same instant he realized he was supposed to have tied the line onto the boat. Hoping to see it floating on the water, he leaned out over the side. No line.
“Ah … Cass?”
She glanced up from baiting another line. “Yes?”
“How much did you like that basket?” he asked, smiling innocently at her.
“How much did I …” The puzzled frown on her face deepened. “What happened, Carter?”
Searching the water once again, he said, “I didn’t know I was supposed to anchor the line.”
She groaned aloud as she leaned over the side in her own search. “Damn! The current must have taken the line, and now we’ll never find it. A perfectly good basket …”
Dallas straightened and flipped off his loafers, then began pulling off his socks.
“What are you doing?”
“The line’s probably under the boat, and we just can’t see it.” Deciding the jeans would have to stay on, he eased his legs over the side of the boat, then flipped over onto his stomach so he could let himself into the water without upsetting the tiny vessel.
“Be careful, Dallas,” Cass warned, grabbing the edges with both hands as the boat rocked violently. “And watch where you put your feet. Who knows what might be down there.”
“I’m okay,” he said as his feet sank slightly into the squishy bottom. He stood chest high in the cool water. Lord, but it felt good, he thought as the heat that had been building in his body instantly dissipated. Still, he didn’t relish the idea of diving under the murky surface to retrieve the basket. The damn line was too light to have gone down deep, though. Reaching under the boat, he carefully swept around with his hands. The tips of his fingers brushed against something nearly under the hull, and he grabbed at it.
“I’ve got it!” he called out, triumphantly holding the sodden line up for her to see. He stepped sideways, closer to her end of the boat. “Here, you can—”
An agonizing bolt of pain shot through him. something had latched onto his left foot. He yelped, and leaped for the side of the boat, nearly tipping it over. His head hit the cooler, and a second sharp pain jolted to life.
“Dallas!” Cass shouted, scrambling toward him. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Flopping half-in, half-out of the boat, he shouted curses as the pain intensified. He must have walked into a shark, he thought in a panic. He was positive his foot was gone and the maniacal thing was eating its way up his leg. Desperately he tried to shake the monster off. He turned his head in an unconsciously morbid attempt to see what was happening, but the awkwardness of his position and the churning water made it impossible.
Suddenly Cass was laughing. She shouted, “Don’t move! I’ll get the net.”
“The net!” he gasped out. “What the hell … !”
“You caught ‘Jaws’!” she yelled in a clearly gleeful voice. “Whatever you do, don’t move!”
“Don’t move!” he exclaimed angrily, thrashing around even harder with his body at the thought of a huge, gaping-mouthed great white
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