Lana nodded her head in the direction of the bay. “You see anything interesting out there?”
“Take a look for yourself.” He handed her the binoculars and rolled onto his back, letting the stingy rays of the sun—playing chase with the gray clouds—warm his face.
She gazed though the binoculars in the direction of the Double Dippin’. “Peter sure looks different this summer.”
Aidan chuckled. “Yeah, he got his man on over the winter.” Aidan had a thought and turned his head to get a better look at Lana. “You aren’t thinking of…”
“What? No. He’s just sweet on me and it’s—” she shrugged her thin shoulders “—you know…nice.”
Aidan figured he wasn’t the only one wanting to be a part of the Savonski clan. The Savonskis seemed to get along, as though they truly liked each other. Aidan hadn’t heard Nikolai say anything derogatory to Margaret or anyone else at their camp. There was never any drinking, smoking, or yelling coming from across the creek. The Harte camp did enough of that for the whole beach. Instead, there was laughter, music, and fresh-baked cookies. He wanted to be a part of that. He’d almost been, last summer. To coin Lana’s turn of phrase, Sonya and been sweet on him. Then he’d gone and ruined it. With one frustrated swing, he’d thrown it all away.
Now, he was after getting it all back.
What the hell was she doing?
Garrett refocused the dial on the binoculars. He’d seen the Miss Julie II intentionally ram Sonya. It was like bumper cars on water out here. The boats were too close and the fishing area too small for this many fishermen. Someone was going to get hurt, and he had a sinking feeling that “someone” captained the Double Dippin’.
“You want to run interference?” Judd asked, his binoculars pointing in the same direction, obviously catching what Garrett had.
“Let’s head over there and see if our presence reminds people of their manners.” Garrett tightened his fingers over the binoculars as Sonya gave another captain a hand gesture. At least this time she did it with a smile. She hadn’t been kidding when she’d told him she didn’t play well with others.
Judd hollered at Skip to power the boat toward the skirmish.
Garrett shook his head in disbelief as the Double Dippin’ laid her net right in front of the Albatross, effectively corking them off.
“Did you see that?” Judd asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“Kendrick isn’t going to take that well,” Judd said.
Sure enough, words were being slung, and then a pop can went flying toward Sonya. Sonya actually threw her head back and laughed as it missed, spraying soda against the pilot house. Garrett swiveled his binoculars back to Kendrick.
The face of the Albatross’ captain was red as a heart attack. “Let’s hurry this tug boat along, Skip.” Before another weapon, more deadly, was produced. They’d already unarmed and cited another boat and the fishing period wasn’t even half over for the day.
“The woman sure isn’t out to make friends,” Skip commented, clicking his tongue.
“Doesn’t look that way.” She was going to make his job a hell of a lot harder this summer.
“What’s Kendrick doing?” Judd asked.
Garrett lowered his binoculars. “I think he just ordered his crewman to cut her line.” The Calypso was too far away to intervene. By the time they reached the feuding vessels, threats were being swapped and Sonya’s net was about to be cut. Funny how the knife disappeared and the crewman dropped her cork line when he saw the troopers.
“What do you want to do, Garrett?” Judd asked, lowering his binoculars. “He hasn’t broken any laws…yet.”
“Let’s board him anyway and see what we can find.” It would dispel the situation between Sonya and Kendrick, and remind Kendrick that the law was watching.
Didn’t Sonya know better than to cross men like him? Garrett caught her colorful threat of making Kendrick fish bait on the wind. Guess not.
Skip announced their intent over the loud speaker, and with the way Kendrick went off with his foul language, they weren’t welcomed. Meanwhile, Sonya smiled ear to ear, and waved to the captain of the Albatross as her crew began pulling in their full net.
Before disembarking the Albatross, Garrett wrote Kendrick up for three safety violations. The fisherman was not happy, but he’d wisely taken the tickets, stone-faced and menacing. The man was imposing with his three-foot breadth of shoulders, lumberjack arms, and keg of a belly. He reminded Garrett of Brutus in the cartoon Popeye, though a lot smarter and more dangerous.
Sonya had better watch who she pissed off. Some tussles weren’t worth the trouble.
Garrett reboarded the Calypso. “Where’s the Double Dippin’?”
“Are we policing her or protecting her?” Judd asked with a cocked brow.
“Both. She needs a friendly warning.”
“Another?” Skip asked. “We babysitting the woman and no one told me?”
“Just do it.”
“Would you look at the new guy, throwing his weight around?” Skip said to Judd.
“Just because he’s a decorated SEAL, the man thinks he’s hot stuff,” Judd returned.
“Stow it, boys. And I am hot stuff.” His comment was followed by snorts of laughter.
“Ahoy, Captain,” Peter said in a sing-song voice. “The Calypso’s back.”
They’d finished hauling in their net and had moved closer to the beach to lay out the next one. Nice thing about the flat bottom boat was that they could position themselves in the shallows, as long as they were careful and didn’t beach themselves when the tide turned.
Corking off the Albatross had been a smart, if somewhat risky move. The net they’d pulled in was stocked with fish. Looking at all the silver flashing on deck, made up for the gamble.
The Calypso drew as close as she dared in the shallow water. Garrett stood at the bow, his brows lowered, his face a chiseled mask of intent. “You got a death wish?” he hollered.
“No more than anyone else out here,” Sonya yelled back.
Deep lines bracketed his mouth. “Chuck Kendrick isn’t someone you want to be messing with, Sonya.”
“You know what, Garrett. I’m not someone to mess with. Why don’t you spread that around instead of telling me how to fish these waters?”
His eyes narrowed, and he anchored his hands on his hips. His stance reflected more than ever his position of power. He looked manly and macho, and frustrated as hell. It started private places of hers thawing, and she didn’t want to thaw for him.
“I feel sparks in the air,” Gramps commented, his voice easily reaching Sonya. Gramps turned to Wes and Peter. “You feel sparks?”
“Yep,” Wes responded with an easy going grin.
Peter glanced around the deck. “Something on fire?”
“Your sister’s about to go up in flames,” Wes said, tongue in cheek.
“You ladies through gossiping?” Sonya knew her face was flushed. She just hoped Garrett couldn’t hear the men’s scuttlebutt.
“I’m not trying to tell you how to fish,” Garrett said. “But if I have to intervene in another one of your squabbles, I’m going to write you up for harassment.”
“Harassment! Squabbles! Listen, fish cop, I haven’t been the one starting things out there.”
“You started that last one.”
She opened her mouth to argue, and then shut it. He was right. She had started it by laying her net out in front of Kendrick’s, but he’d escalated it. Besides there wasn’t anything illegal about what she’d done. Hell, she’d just been returning the favor as Kendrick had corked her off earlier. “There’s nothing in your rule book that says I can’t cork someone off.”
“Don’t make me find a reason to beach you.”
“You threatening me?”
“You bet your sweet ass I am.”
Sonya’s mouth dropped wide open in shock. How dare he? Who did he think he was? Sweet ass? “I don’t know where you’ve policed be
fore, but it’s cutthroat fishing out here. I’m only trying to fit in.”
“Quit trying so hard. You’re going to get yourself killed.” With that, Garrett motioned for the captain of the Calypso to move about. She watched him until he was out of range.
“Damn stinking fish cop,” she muttered, and then looked to her crew to see how they’d taken the trooper’s warning. They regarded her with a mix of emotions—amusement from Peter, concern from Wes, and then the clincher, Gramps’s solemn look.
“You’re going to have to make nice, Sonya,” Gramps said.
“I know it.” She wanted to stamp her foot in aggravation, and would have done it, too, if it wouldn’t have undermined her as captain in front of her crew. A captain needed a level head in order to make level decisions. Right now, she was so off balance with whatever she was feeling, she wondered what it would take to get her back on even keel again.
The rest of the day proceeded fairly smooth. That was, everything except the promised rough waves and wind joining the party. They’d finished with a very respectable eight thousand pounds and had tendered, unloading their fish just as the weather started to bite. The storm had been threatening all day, but thankfully waited until the fish opening had closed to let loose her fury. Cold northwesterly wind cut like talons through the summer tease they’d been experiencing. The forecasted rain had yet to appear, but the waves had arrived. They were wicked enough that instead of returning to Red Fox Camp, where they’d have to traverse the open bay, they’d radioed to Grams, and she was meeting them at the cannery. Sonya would have to tie up to the docks for the night. It was too dangerous to be anchored out in the bay.
How dangerous would the docks be?
They tied up at the crowded dock. She wasn’t the only one thinking safety tonight. Gramps studied the line of boats nestled together like the cork line of a net. “Sonya, I want Peter and Wes staying with you tonight.” Before she could interrupt, Gramps continued, “Besides—” he punched Peter playfully on the shoulder “—the boy here needs a shower.”
He wasn’t the only one. So did she. It did made good sense to have someone stay with her, especially with the vandalism they’d already had.
Grams showed up with a cooler packed with salmon sandwiches, chips, canned green beans, and oatmeal raisin cookies. She was a welcome sight. Gramps returned with Grams on the 4-wheeler to camp.
Sonya, Peter and Wes chowed down, and then the men headed for the showers.
After they returned, Sonya informed them that she’d be late getting back since she had to find Garrett. Wes gave her a grin and wished her good luck with her apology. Peter was already engrossed with his hand-held video game and only grunted when she told him she was leaving.
Sonya grabbed her toiletries and headed for the cannery’s showers. After washing the day of fishing off of her body, she took extra time to smooth on lotion and apply a bit of make-up, even though she normally didn’t bother with cosmetics while at fish camp. She was going to see Garrett, and that girly part of her insisted she at least try to look her best. She wasn’t out to attract. On the contrary, she was mad at Garrett. She hadn’t liked the Calypso shadowing her every move. She could take care of herself, thank you very much. She proved that today, even with Garrett’s unwanted interference.
She was still a woman, and it made her feel good to take a few extra minutes over her appearance. That was all. Really.
Finished, she began the dreaded chore of tracking Garrett down. After giving him a thank you for the earlier heads-up, she planned on informing him that she didn’t need him “protecting” her from all the other big, bad fishermen. She was a big, bad fisherman herself. Someone to be reckoned with. She was smarter, and had a faster boat. They’d all taken notice. Every move she’d made today had been cataloged and most likely used as gossip now that drifting was closed for the next twenty-four hours. Set netters got their chance tomorrow, which meant she’d still be catching fish. Just liked she’d planned.
She searched for Garrett around the docks where the Calypso was tied up. She also tried the mess hall, and the pay phone with its line of callers wrapped around the corner. This wasn’t cell phone country, unless you could afford a satellite hook up. The two phones got a lot of business.
There was no sign of him. She was about to give up when she stopped in at the General Store. A place where you could buy a can of bacon and a marine battery all in the same shopping spree.
“Well, if it isn’t the celebrity of the hour,” Davida greeted from behind the counter. Davida with her multi-colored spiky hair of golds, reds, and deep browns, and her equally spiky attitude, ran the store much like an army general. She was the one person who knew everything worth knowing. “Let me pour you a cup of coffee and you can fill me in on what I’ve missed.”
“Why don’t you first tell me what you’ve heard? Could save time.” Sonya took the cup of coffee, though she preferred tea. Tea was considered a sissy drink out here. She wasn’t going to add to the stereotype.
Davida filled her in, taking her time since the store was empty. There wasn’t much she’d missed. “You didn’t actually cork off the Albatross, did you?” At Sonya’s nod, she shook her head and chuckled. “Damn, wished I could have seen that. I like it when bad things happen to Chuck Kendrick. Lord, knows he should be plagued with bad karma, considering all the things he’s done.”
“Agreed.” Sonya changed the subject before Davida decided to visit the many things suspected of Kendrick. Some of those things were against her own family and too raw for casual conversation. “I’m looking for Garrett Hunt. Have you seen him?”
“The new trooper? That is one delicious-looking man.” She closed her eyes and hummed. “Yes, almighty, I wouldn’t mind getting a piece of him this summer.”
Sonya didn’t like the image that picture painted. Davida had a reputation for not only knowing the men, but really knowing them.
“He was in here a few hours ago. Bought a bag of trail mix, some jerky, a water bottle. Oh, and some wax.”
“Wax?” What would he need wax for?
“Believe you me, I was hard pressed to find it. Wax isn’t something that’s called for every day.” She leaned her impressive bosom on the counter. “Word is that he brought along a surfboard. You ever heard of anything so crazy?”
Now the wax made sense. “Saw it with my own two eyes.”
“Get out!” Davida shook her head again. Her hair didn’t budge from its sprayed-stiff state. “I really thought he was pulling my leg when he said he was going to ‘catch a wave’ down at the old Diamond O.”
Seeing Davida always paid off. “Why don’t you ring me up a bag of chips and a candy bar?” She needed to borrow some wheels. “Any chance you’d let me use your ATV?”
“You headed to the Diamond O?” Davida tilted her head as though to hear Sonya’s response better.
The going price for a rented ATV looked like firsthand information. “Yes.”
“Now why do you want to meet up with a fish cop with that blustery wind out there?”
Here came the risky part. If Sonya didn’t give enough information, Davida would fill in the lines. Too much, and gossip would spread like fireweed that she was shagging a fish cop. “I have some words to say to him regarding his conduct today.”
“Going to put him in his place, are you?” A twinkling entered her eyes. “You taking on everyone this summer, Sonya?”
“Gotta throw my weight around to be taken seriously around here.”
“Ain’t that the truth. Just be careful you don’t throw out a hip.” Davida handed the ATV’s key to her. When Sonya reached for it, she pulled it back. “You will fill me on how it went between you two.”
Sonya hesitated. Maybe she could walk the distance. It was only six miles round trip to the abandoned cannery. The wind slapped against the metal side of the building with a hard gust. At least one direction would have a headwind. “You have a deal.”
Davida smiled and handed over th
e key along with Sonya’s chips and candy bar. “Happy hunting.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
He was certifiably insane.
Sonya found Garrett right where Davida had said he’d be. Surfing the waves at the abandoned Diamond O Cannery. She parked the 4-wheeler next to a rusted out old Jeep, alongside the remains of the old cannery’s dock. Waves crashed at a height of six to seven feet. Glacial, callous water brutally ate at the rocky beach. Gloomy, heavy laden skies, carrying the promise of rain, gathered overhead.
And the man was out there surfing.
She did have to admire his form. The combination of power and grace she’d witnessed earlier was in high demand now as he rode—no, seemed to command—the wave. His short board sliced back and forth as he carved the water. The temperature had dipped to around forty-eight with the storm, and Sonya knew the water was colder. She’d dressed in jeans, t-shirt layered by a sweatshirt, and a rain jacket and yet she shivered watching him.
Didn’t he know how deadly that ocean could be?
Garrett wore what must be a dry suit, as he was a dark shadow against the gunmetal waves. His board, with its flaming yellows and blues, was a beacon of color on the otherwise colorless evening. At least the Coast Guard would know where he’d gone down. No way would they be able to miss that board.
He rode a wave to shore while white water splashed around him with greedy fingers in an attempt to suck him back into its deadly embrace. Upon reaching the rocky sand, he flipped his board under his arm, and jogged up the beach toward her.
“You’re crazy, you know that?” Sonya hollered at him. She’d heard rumors that a group of surfers had formed an Alaskan surfing club, but she really hadn’t believed that anyone would be insane enough to actually surf that freezing water. Until now.
He smiled a grin that had his eyes alight with amusement, the corners crinkling with deep laugh lines. It was a good look on him and had her repressing the desire to reach out and run her hands over him.
He anchored his board in the dark gray sand next to the Jeep, and tore the skin-tight cap off his head. He grabbed a towel from the seat and rubbed his hair, causing it to spike. Again she had to resist the urge to touch.
Hooked (A Romance on the Edge Novel) Page 6
