Deceived - Laura S. Wharton Page 0,5
completely forgot about it. Would you mind checking on it? I haven’t been there in a few weeks. We were going to get it ready for the season this coming weekend, but I don’t have the heart to go see Stormy now.”
Sam nodded.
Jenny felt around the inside of the closet door for the keys to the padlock on the boat’s hatch boards. “Thanks, Sam; I appreciate it.” She gulped and tears welled up in her eyes again. Sam pulled Jenny to him in a bear hug. It was the only thing he could think to do. “I’ll be here if you need me.” He patted her on the back gently until she stopped crying. “Call me if you need anything, Jen. I’m only a few blocks away, so I can be here in no time flat.”
She nodded, and they walked silently to the back door. “Thanks for coming, Sam. Would you do me one favor?”
“Anything.”
“Find whoever made me a widow.”
Sam nodded and closed the screen door quietly behind him. Jenny’s words echoed in his ears all the way back to the marina.
Sam walked past his slip and six more boats to Stormy Monday, her deep blue hull gleaming in the mid-morning sun. The hatch boards were locked in place. Sam opened them and saw that the boat’s interior was straight, just the way Lee would have left it after a day of sailing. Everything was put away where it was supposed to be, and Sam envied the boat’s tidiness. He sighed, then climbed up the companionway steps and replaced the hatch boards and lock.
Stepping back aboard his own boat, Sam threw the two little notepads on a shelf over the galley sink and changed his clothes. He opened all the hatches, popped in an old cassette tape of Elmore James, and got to work putting his boat back in order. As he worked, he tried to recount every call he and Lee had investigated over the past year, but he could think of nothing that would get Lee killed or his boat tossed. But then what were “they” looking for? Who were “they”? Why wasn’t Lee’s boat tossed, instead of his?
Once he got the salon and galley back in place, he made himself a turkey sandwich, grabbed a Foster’s from the top-loading refrigerator, and reviewed the two notebooks. Maybe one held a clue.
Chapter four
For the next few days, Sam reviewed every page of the boat book, searching for irregular comments about engine repairs, notations in the radio log, or errant comments in cruising notes. Lee was a safety-conscientious sailor and routinely maintained all systems aboard Stormy Monday. He had upgraded the battery banks to handle a new refrigerator, added small solar panels to keep a charge on the batteries when he and Jenny anchored out on their weekend cruises, and took exceptional notes in his engineer-like block printing of all boating-related activities. “Anal retentive,” Lee used to claim about his habit of writing everything down, but there was nothing unexpected or irrelevant in the boat book.
“Anybody home?” a voice called out from the dock.
Startled, Sam quickly put the books on the settee beside him and threw a dish towel over them. “Yeah. Oh, hi, Chuck.” Sam waved him aboard as he climbed up the companionway stairs. “You want a beer?”
The boat rocked as Chuck Owens clamored over the safety lines and under the cockpit’s covering bimini. “No thanks, man; I’m still on duty. I just stopped by to check on you. I don’t know how you can possibly live aboard, Sam; you got to be a damn contortionist just to get on the boat!” Chuck’s 280-pound bulk made the otherwise spacious cockpit seem small as he plopped down on one of the cushions. Noting the torn cloth, he let out a low whistle. “Wow, you must have some kinda cat on board.”
“Yeah, a large cat with attitude,” Sam sneered, sitting opposite Chuck, stretching his long legs across to the molded seat on the cockpit’s other side. Not interested in volunteering information, he steered the conversation. “Any thoughts on what happened?”
“No, Sam. Dan’s got half the department on it, so you can rest easy that there will be an answer. We all want to know. Have you been to see Jenny yet?”
“Yeah, and I’ve checked on her some over the last few days. She’s trying to stay busy, Chuck. She appreciated that Andy stopped by that night. Sorry I couldn’t be there myself. I just wasn’t ready to face her,” Sam