of the day, so he hurriedly closed the ports and secured Lee’s boat. He had just stepped over Angel’s lifeline into the cockpit when the fat man pounded up the dock toward the parking lot, his weight leaving a small wake of its own with every step.
Sam ducked below and grabbed a pair of well-worn jeans and a copper-colored sweatshirt. It was starting to cool off a little, and a ferry ride could add to the chill. He took the little dry bag from Lee’s hiding place under the galley sink with him, figuring that no one was the wiser that he had it, whatever it was. He’d have to look at it later.
Chapter seven
Sam’s was the last car to board the Fort Fisher-to-Southport ferry. He was waved aboard by a crew member dressed from head to toe in khakis who motioned him to stop while shoving a hunk of wood under his rear tire. Once the ferry was underway, Sam got out of his car and moved about the open platform ferry, all the while looking for a red Miata. It wasn’t aboard.
Maybe she missed the boat, Sam thought, or perhaps brought a different car. Casually walking to the upper deck and peering into the fishbowl-like passengers’ cabin, Sam didn’t see anyone who looked like the woman who had hugged him at this morning’s service.
“Maybe my boat’s getting tossed again,” he thought, feeling the small dry bag in his jeans pocket.
Leaning over the railing of the upper deck, Sam saw a woman standing next to a battered blue bicycle. A ball cap hid her hair, but when she walked to the rear of the ferry, Sam was sure it was her. She was sassy even in shorts and a baggy white cable knit sweater.
Sam slowly made his way against the people walking up the stairs and meandered between parked cars until he was within five feet of her. He leaned on the railing, looking at the brackish waters of the Cape Fear River rushing by. The ride won’t take that long, so if she intends to talk, she had better get started, Sam thought.
Sam kicked the side of the solid metal panels meant to keep cars on and waves off. The thud-thud sound had its desired impact.
She glanced at him, then inched closer until their elbows nearly touched on the top of the railing. She too leaned over and stared at the water.
Sam kept his eyes on the water, but he glanced at her every few seconds. He guessed her to be in her late twenties, nearly half his age. He guessed she was pretty, though her oversized sunglasses hid her eyes, and the too-large black ball cap hid her hair with only a few long strands finding their way out of the hole in the back of it. In canvas sneakers, she was about 5’6”. And she was not smiling this afternoon.
“Thanks for coming,” she started in little more than a whisper. “I didn’t know Lee very well, but he spoke highly of you and told me he was going to tell you about me. I didn’t know who else to trust. Did he have a chance to tell you what happened?”
Sam looked intently at the water, not sure what she meant. “Lee didn’t tell me anything.”
“I am sure he would have if he’d had a chance. He was a good guy.”
“What was it that he didn’t get to tell me, uh, what did you say your name was?”
“Oh, sorry. Deloris, but everyone calls me Del. I guess you can, too.” Del sighed and pushed her hat up a bit, revealing a tan furrowed forehead. “Lee sort of stumbled onto a really bad scene, and I think the further he looked into it, the worse it got. My boyfriend Tommy got killed over it. Tommy wasn’t too bright sometimes, but he took really good care of me and Emily, our little girl. I wanted to nail the guys who left Emily without her daddy, so I found out through the grapevine about Lee, how he was this good cop on a mission to help others. I wasn’t sure how to approach him, so I had one of my friends find him. She said he was trying to help kids stay off the streets by taking them sailing or something like that, and her boy, Sharick, was getting a lot out of it. Sailing was keeping him out of trouble. So one day when Reneeta dropped Sharick off for