What the …
Since Alex and Emily would be out fishing for several months, Mara had agreed to collect their mail and take care of any outstanding bills that might arise.
Marriage had not changed Alex’s business practices and he continued to refuse to pay online, so that left Mara on shore to take care of any additional business in person. Alex had already made payments on what he owed on the Driftfeather well into the next year, so when she got a notice, followed a month later by another notice saying that payments were overdue, she was forced to contact him at sea.
“Everything’s paid up,” Alex told her. “It has to be a mistake.”
After giving her his pin number and other identifying information, and wiring his consent for her to access his account at the bank, she made an appointment and went in to see what was amiss.
Because she was a silent partner and her portion of the money had been placed on the boat by Alex, there was no link between her personal account and the Driftfeather account—a measure that her lawyer had set up to protect her assets. Neither did her name appear on the title of the seiner, although legal documents defined hers and Alex’s business relationship and the fact that upon any sale or loss of the seiner, he would owe her half its purchase price.
“It looks like your little business friend took advantage of your good nature, Ms. Benson, and failed to uphold his part of the purchase of the Driftfeather,” Lessis said, peering over his glasses as he turned the documents outlining Alex’s payments for her to see.
Lessis’s sleazy innuendo was nearly as offensive as the cheap cologne he seemed to like to slather on for his new role as a bank official. His choice of a dark blue overly shiny suit as business attire only added to the image of slovenly tastelessness with which he presented himself.
“I’m not sure I see the problem here,” Mara said evenly, pointing to Alex’s two pre-payments that each covered a span of six months, and trying to ignore the fact that Lessis had gathered too much information about hers and Alex’s business dealings.
“I can see why you’re unable to grasp the issue,” Lessis said, leaning in a little too much.
She bristled at the condescending tone of both his words and demeanor.
“If you will look here, you’ll see that for every payment he submitted, a subsequent withdrawal of 50 percent—sometimes 75 percent—was made from the account over several weeks after each deposit.”
“Mr. Winron assures me that he made no such withdrawals. Is it not possible that the bank could have made an error?” She asked him.
“That is very unlikely, Ms. Benson. Our tellers are of the highest caliber and operate with flawless efficiency. Why, if you’ll look here, many of these transactions were handled by me or by my assistant manager, and I assume you are not intending to question the integrity of a former law enforcement professional.”
Lessis stared at her for an uncomfortably long time before adding, “Then again, Ms. Benson, you seem to have all the information necessary to access the account.”
Mara’s scathing look stopped Lessis from expanding on his inference.
“Nonetheless, Mr. Lessis,” she said evenly, “I would like to request a copy of the payment history on this account so that I can compare it to the receipts Mr. Winron received for the transactions.”
“Well … it appears you have the proper authorization to access this information, so if you’ll give me a moment, I’ll prepare a statement for you.”
“Thank you,” Mara answered, before walking across the bank lobby to take a seat on a bench by the door.
Something fishy was going on here. Hopefully, it would all amount to just a simple clerical error. The trouble was, she was going to have to try to reach Alex again to find out where he kept the receipts, and that was going to be a problem since he had already told her he would be out of range for the next week and unable to be reached except by emergency relay through the Coast Guard.
“Are you aware that Mr. Winron has received his second to the last foreclosure notice, Ms. Benson?” Lessis said, returning with the printed payment history.
“Foreclosure?” she said, looking him directly in the eye. “Foreclosure on what?”
“Foreclosure on the Driftfeather,” Lessis smirked. “Too bad to lose such a fine seiner, too, not to mention the damage that this will inflict on his credit rating.”
“Then let us avert any such potential, Mr. Lessis,” she told him after glancing at the statement. “I will have the $17,035.07 that you say Alex is past due transferred into his account by no later than 3 p.m.today. Meanwhile, I will get to the bottom of what happened here, but it may take me into the week after next to accomplish it.”
“Very well, Ms. Benson. If either Smith Bank or I can be of further assistance to you, please …”
“Good day, Mr. Lessis. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Hmm …
By late that afternoon, Mara had loaded the dinghy, this time remembering to bring the shotgun in its waterproof case. Now that Thor was with her, she continued to climb down to the raft in the usual way, and then maneuver around to the bottom of the floating steps to let him run down the ramp from the dock that held her row of cottages to get in. The tide was almost out and Thor hesitated slightly before inching his way down the steep ramp to her.
“Ain’t heard any barkin’, so guess I didn’t know ya had a dog,” Stu called down from the railing outside his cabin, just narrowly missing her boat with the stump of stogie he threw down.
“I haven’t seen much of you lately, Stu,” she called up. “I see you haven’t managed to get yourself an ashtray yet.”
“Look here now, missy, this ain’t the South-48 where we got all those hi-falutin’ rules. If ya want to be an Alaskan, yer gonna have to learn to deal with real men and real life.”
What was with Stu, anyway? He was usually cranky, but never this much so. Not really in the mood to deal with him or his mood right now, she backed the raft away from the steps and slowly turned it around.
“I’m just going north along the shore,” she called to him. “I should be back around dark.”
The fact of the matter was that it was long past dark when she finally returned. There had been no reason for the delay other than her desire to enjoy every possible second that the time away from all things human could provide.
She had been surprised by how much Thor enjoyed the raft with her, usually lying on the soft bottom, but sometimes standing with his front paws on one of the wood seats to scan the shoreline, once even letting out a low growl when something moved in the brush—something that turned out to be a black bear moving along the shoreline.
But solitude had its limits and this time the limit was the fact that she was nearly out of gas in spite of the two extra gallons she had brought along. Tomorrow she would look into a bigger motor, or maybe even a second motor if the inflatable could handle the weight. As much as she liked her new dinghy, what she had learned was that she wanted broader range with it, and so she would have it adapted to better suit her needs.
When she dropped Thor off at the dock, Stu was standing in front of her cabin with his hand on the doorknob. Startled, he quickly withdrew it and walked briskly to his own door.
“Well, finally gettin’ back, I see,” he called to her. “I was just checkin’ to make sure your door was secure before I went to bed.”
“Thanks, Stu,” she called to him as she maneuvered her boat underneath the pilings and tied it up beneath her cabin.
Strange that her storage box was unlocked, but her keys were inside where she had left them, so she figured she had forgotten to click it shut in her preoccupation with Alex’s account. Besides, the lock was a keyless entry and only she knew the code—she and Alex, who she had given it to “just in case” when she first bought the place.
Thor held back from Stu as he waited for her to call him up from the docks before bounding inside when she called.
; The next day she talked to the salesman who had sold her the inflatable boat, and on his recommendation ordered a smaller back-up engine, which he told her they would come out to mount the next day.
“Not everyone believes in handling it this way, Miss, but I’ve known plenty of folks who were mighty glad they had things set up this way to get them out of a jam.”
She trusted what he said. So far, everything he had told her had been accurate.
“One more thing I’d do if I were you,” he said as she began to leave. “I’d put another 5-gallon gas can in there for your shore trips. I know it’s more weight and all, but it should slide right under one of the seats and I think you’ll be glad you did it.”
A slushy, late spring snow was falling as she drove home, but with the temperature hovering around thirty-eight degrees, it would be melted before the next afternoon. After hanging her jacket on the peg behind the door, she threw a couple of logs into the woodstove and put some water on for tea, stopping to pick the feather Joe had given to her up from the counter, and wondering how it had gotten there from the place inside the bookcase where she had last left it tucked inside an old book.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Down Time
It was just over a week later when Alex called her.
“We’re over in Kodiak,” he said, “and should be heading back to Juneau next week.”
Alex sounded good, especially when he talked about Emily and how well she had taken to the sea. He mentioned that the Driftfeather had performed well and that the investment had proven to be a good one.
When she told him about the foreclosure notice, there was a long hesitation before he answered.
“That’s just not possible, Mara. I paid a year in advance. I know you took a chance on me, but you have to believe me that I paid it.”
“I know what a shock this must be to you, Alex. I also want you to know that I absolutely believe you and I want you to remember that.”
She proceeded to tell him how she had paid off the overdue money and of her plans to troubleshoot the problem once he returned.
“You bet I kept every one of those receipts,” he told her. “I have them with my bank records in a safe deposit box at the bank. I also made copies and have them at home in a fireproof box. And, no, I didn’t make any withdrawals from that account.”
She reassured him again, even asking to speak to Emily so that she could reinforce her faith in Alex and his integrity. She hoped she hadn’t ruined their trip home with the worry of it all, and told herself that it was probably just a clerical error.
Just to be safe, she followed up with Lessis to make sure her funds had cleared and been deposited in the account for the Driftfeather, making a particular point to ask for a statement from the bank saying that any foreclosure proceedings had been stopped and that Alex was not in arrears. Cleaning up his credit records would take more time, but she was assured that with his presentation of the deposit receipts, the bank would make sure that was accomplished.
Since there was nothing more she could do, she decided to spend the next week camping out along the coast and taking samples for her study on coastal plankton. Since spring weather in Southeast could be unpredictable, she brought along two full 5-gallon cans of gas and a three-week supply of both dog food and food for herself. She planned to sleep in the raft, but brought along a tent just in case, as well as plenty of raingear. She also brought along a portable water purifier and some extra flares in addition to her regular supplies.
She hadn’t seen Stu for a couple of days and when a knock on his door went unanswered, she figured he must have gone out of town. With no one trustworthy around to tell about her plans, she notified the harbormaster of where she would be and of her expected return, then she climbed through the trap door, made a particular point to ensure that the supply box that held her keys was locked, swung around to the steps to pick up Thor, and headed up the coast.
The first half of the week went by uneventfully. With long sunny days and crisp nights filled with the green and pink waves of the northern lights, she and Thor explored miles of pristine shoreline and slept soundly in the gentle lap of the waves.
Twice each day she would beach the dinghy and take a long walk with Thor, bringing the shotgun along for good measure. Although it gave her a sense of security to have it, she didn’t have to use it, even when a brown bear and two first year cubs came walking out of the brush as she and Thor were returning to the boat.
Since it was low tide, there was plenty of beach to put distance between them, and the sow and her young never even looked her way, although she was fully aware that the bears knew she was there. Because the tide was coming in, the raft floated out easily, and for that she was glad. Although the bear encounter had been a special moment for sure, she didn’t really want to test the tolerance of the animals, especially when she had a dog with her.
At night she used the cement-filled bucket to anchor the dinghy away from shore. Although any animal that wanted to could have swum out to her, somehow she felt more secure this way. On the fourth night, when the rain started, she learned that the 5-gallon bucket she carried was a necessary accessory.
By the fifth night, she decided to beach the dinghy and find a way to get a good night’s sleep. Somehow she managed to secure the inflatable raft on shore and rig up her tent over the top of it so that little water got in. For good measure, because she was so close to the high-tide line, she tied the bowline to a tree and also threw the anchor onto the beach.
When the storm ended three days later, she had actually managed to get some sleep and was ready to tackle refloating her raft. It was harder than she had imagined it would be, and would have been impossible if the back end weren’t already partly buoyed by the large waves of an extra high incoming tide.
She had been careful with the motors, making sure that she tipped them up so their propellers wouldn’t get bent or dinged. When she tested them each, one by one, she was relieved to find they started up without any problem.
Her shoulders ached from the strain and her left one had a searing knifelike pain boring into the backside of the joint. It seemed serious, but she could still use the arm and so she focused on getting home, making it just hours before the harbormaster had planned to launch a search. She had, he informed her, been three days overdue.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Java Java
By the end of another week, Stu’s cabin remained empty. Although it was unlike him to be gone for this long, could it be that he was on vacation and had just chosen not to tell her—especially in view of his recent cranky demeanor?
Mara pondered the situation, but only for a moment. Right now she was busy trying to figure out her own life’s direction, and Stu really didn’t enter into the equation except that he had been a rather constant presence in her life since she had moved to Juneau.
After the difficulties of her last trip, the idea of boating up the coastline had lost some of its appeal, at least for now. So Biological had stalled, too, since her contacts at OR&P had lost some of their grant money.
Since she had paid up Alex’s money due on the Driftfeather, things seemed to have stabilized in that arena, too, as evidenced by recent bank statements showing no unusual activity. Being that things had settled down on all fronts, and in an impulsive move that marked her new persona as a businesswoman, she purchased a small wood-frame building near the deep-water docks, and set up a new business venture called KonaJane’s.
For now she planned to purchase her roasted coffee directly from a small business in Kealekakua, Hawaii that had impressed her with the quality of its beans. If things panned out, though, she was willing to consider their proposal to set up a coffee-roasting operation in her new business—an idea that intrigued her and seemed like a natural way to expand when the time was right.
Alex had been delayed another month, mostly because he had decided to follow Doug and the Storm Roamer into Homer, where the two planned to make some modif
ications on both seiners’ sleeping quarters. It was all based on the fact that Emily needed some privacy from the rest of the crew, and Doug’s agreement that it made sense to outfit both seiners the same way in keeping with their past history as sister vessels.
Doug had also assured Alex that he had the contacts to get the job done right, and so the two formed a friendly business alliance of sorts—and why not? From Mara’s perspective, Doug had a lot to offer from his long experience as a fisherman, and she could think of no one better, really, to mentor Alex than he.
Since the night of Alex and Emily’s wedding, she had softened her position on her ex-husband, even leaning toward complete forgiveness of any wrongs—perceived or real—that had come between them. Who wouldn’t have been driven to near madness or hysteria by the events of both their recent pasts?
Maybe, on some level, she had contributed to the demise of their marriage without even realizing it. Whatever the case, she had done her best and she was now convinced that he had, too. At least the resentment was gone now, and that was its own tremendous relief. The future was wide open and there was nowhere to go but up from the emotional hole into which they both had fallen because of circumstances completely beyond their control.
By the time Alex returned late in May, KonaJane’s was ready for the first cruise ship to arrive.
“I’d like ta be yer first customer before ya get busy with the touri,” Sal’s familiar voice called across the currently empty shop.
“Sal?” Mara exclaimed. “Sal!”
Rushing across the room, she hugged the woman who had so often shown up just when she needed someone to lean on. Hanging a closed sign on the door, she pulled the shades, whipped up two fresh-brewed cups of Kona, and sat down with her friend to catch up on the latest news about her life. Thor, as usual, lay near her feet with his chin on his paws.
“Joe’s fine,” Sal said in response to her question. “Matter ‘a fact, he’ll be joinin’ me here tomorrow, soon as he finishes up seein’ ta Della back in Glenallen.”
Driftfeather on the Alaska Seas Page 7
