Dark Beach - By Lauren Ash Page 0,33

got a new girlfriend. Thinks he has me fooled, but shouldn’t be out getting Chinese food when his workplace is just across the street.”

Jenny eased up a little. “I am hungry. Soup sounds good.” She began to follow him, but then stopped when she reached the counter. “I got your note.”

“My note?” He kept walking, his back to her.

“Yes. The one you left in the lantern.”

Now he turned to face her.

“I got it this morning. I can’t believe you had the gall to come back, even after the police. You should have just told me it was you. I was terrified.”

“Police? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Oh, he was smooth. Jenny folded her arms across her chest and took a step back. “You left me a note.” She pulled it from her pocket and held it out for him, reading aloud, “What are you looking for?”

Kurt put his hand out. “Let me see it.” He read it, squinted at the handwriting. “I didn’t write this. This is not my handwriting. What happened?” He seemed genuinely concerned. “Follow me, we’ll discuss it over soup.”

Jenny shook her head. “How do I know you’re not lying? I can’t go with you, wherever it is you want me to go. You might be a psychopath.”

Kurt shook his head and ran his hands through his hair. “Boy, you’re trouble, aren’t you? And feisty, too. I like that. I like that.”

Jenny rolled her eyes. “You make me sound like some sort of horse.” She kept her arms folded.

“I was thinking more like a fish—some big unyielding fish.”

She couldn’t help but smirk. “So what is it? What do you want from me?”

“Nothing.” He sounded genuine. “Just your company, a little chit-chat. Where are you from? What do you like to do for fun? All the boring, yet simple stuff.” He fixed her with a gaze. “I didn’t write that note.”

“I don’t know, Kurt. I just don’t know about this. I’m married.”

“So I’ve heard.” He grinned. “And … I’m not looking for that. I respect you there. Here…” He thrust a ledger toward her. “Take a look at my log. This is my handwriting. Compare the two. I’m telling you the truth.”

Jenny took the ledger. Coffee rings stained the pages and it reeked of fish. After examining it carefully, she passed it back to him and nodded. “I believe you. Fine! This soup better be good, then. Show me the way already.” The note was tucked back in her pocket for safekeeping.

Kurt led her out the back of the shop and down tread-worn steps to a sun-bleached wooden pier. A lonely fishing boat bobbed at the end, its name painted in bright green letters across the white fiberglass hull.

The Retty. Jenny recognized it immediately. “Odd name for a boat,” she said, to cover her surprise.

“Unique, I prefer to think. It’s my father’s boat ... my boat now. He named it that. We’d get all fixed up to set out to sea and he’d say ‘You retty?’ instead of ready. I’d answer, ‘Aye, aye captain!’ and pretend I was a pirate instead of a fisherman. Loot seemed more interesting than fish back then.” A smile brightened his face. “I would go toe the line, pull the nets in, sort the baskets—whatever needed doing. He gave me pocket money for it, which turned into steady wages as I got older. I went to school during the year, worked weekends, helped in the evenings, and then came on full time. I suppose I picked up the business where he left off.”

“Where is he now, your father?”

Kurt didn’t answer. She followed him onto the boat and into the main cabin, all dark wood and dim lighting, except for the glow of the stove and an oil lamp.

“It’s cold in here.” Jenny shivered.

He handed her a heavy woolen blanket and she wrapped herself in it and took a seat at a table that could only seat two comfortably.

“I don’t feel the cold much. Too busy most of the time to notice, though it gets colder when we’re out from shore. You’ll see.”

“What? We’re going out?” Jenny pulled the blanket tighter at the thought.

“Yeah. After we eat. Just for a while. Is that all right with you?”

“Yes. The only boat I’ve been on, well besides this one now, is the Seattle ferry.”

“I bet you didn’t catch any fish on that one.”

“No, no fish.” She smiled. “Just a nap.”

The soup was piping hot, so Kurt served them and took a seat across from her.