Alaskan Catch
Page 1
Praise for the novels of Sue Pethick
“Quirky characters abound in this gentle romantic comedy with a hint of suspense. But it’s the comic scenes featuring Shep that steal the show. . . . Readers who delight in tales about the bond between people and their dogs will enjoy spending time in Fossett.”
—Booklist on Please Don’t Feed the Mayor
“Filled with romance, drama, and family love, The Dog Who Came for Christmas is a fun, lighthearted read that is sure to give you warm fuzzy feelings.”
—Modern Dog on The Dog Who Came for Christmas
Boomer’s Bucket List is a
CLOSER WEEKLY STAFF PICK!
“Grab a treasured pet and a box of tissues before sitting down to read this endearing tale. Pethick has a knack for writing dogs with personality, and Boomer is no exception. Both witty and emotional, this touching novel is a journey through America’s heartland. The romance takes a back seat while supporting the plot in all the best ways.... This is a great road trip read!”
—RT Book Reviews on Boomer’s Bucket List
“A beautiful book filled with warmth, Boomer’s Bucket List will tug at your heart strings for more reasons than one as you join Jennifer, Nathan, and Boomer in this journey filled with love, loss, and friendship.”
—Modern Dog on Boomer’s Bucket List
“If you want something squeaky-clean to share with any teen or adult you know, this is it. No profanity, no steamy scenes, no problems—just a nice romance with a few curves. That’s Boomer’s Bucket List, so jump on it.”
—Terri Schlichenmeyer, “The Bookworm,” on Boomer’s Bucket List
“A relatable story of how much our furry friends mean to us.”
—The Parkersburg News and Sentinel
“A quirky and endearing cast of characters invading a historic inn gives this novel a cozy mystery vibe, especially when factoring in the hilarious antics of a certain four-legged character. The brewing romance tempers the humor with heart.... This is a light heartwarming read perfect for a wintry afternoon at home or a sunny beach vacation.”
—RT Book Reviews, Four Stars, on Pet Friendly
“Pethick combines a love story about second chances, a mystery, paranormal elements, and a winsome dog in her feel-good debut.”
—Barbara McMichael, “The Bookmonger,” on Pet Friendly
“Amusing . . . cute . . . the perfect airport book.”
—Terri Schlichenmeyer, “The Bookworm,” on Pet Friendly
“A funny and sweet book with plenty of howls!”
—The Parkersburg News and Sentinel on Pet Friendly
Also by Sue Pethick
Please Don’t Feed the Mayor
The Dog Who Came for Christmas
Boomer’s Bucket List
Pet Friendly
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
ALASKAN CATCH
Sue Pethick
KENSINGTON BOOKS
www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Praise for the novels of Sue Pethick
Also by
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
ARRIVAL
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
EPILOGUE
Teaser chapter
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2019 by Sue Pethick
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 978-1-4967-1982-9
Kensington Electronic Edition: October 2019
ISBN-13: 978-1-4967-1982-9
ISBN-10: 1-4967-1982-4
For Doug and Amanda, with gratitude
Acknowledgments
In writing this book, I’ve been fortunate to have the support of a great team. A writer toils in solitude, but a book is the product of many dedicated individuals, every one of whom is crucial to its success. Among them this time are my agent, Doug Grad, and his former assistant, Amanda Blott, who suggested I write a story about a marine biologist and an Alaskan tender operator; my editor, Gary Goldstein, who trusted me to run with it, and his assistant, Liz May, who somehow manages to be equal parts diplomat and cheerleader—bless you.
My publicist, Vida Engstrand, keeps my name in front of the book-buying public, for which I’m inexpressibly grateful, and Paula Reedy is not only a wonderful production editor, but she writes me thoughtful notes about proofing my manuscripts that I always need, always read, and probably never adhere to perfectly, alas. Larissa Ackerman, Alexandra Nicolajsen, and Lauren Jernigan communicate, social mediate, and work their magic on my behalf, leaving me both humbled and grateful. No doubt, there are others on the Kensington team whose names I haven’t included here. To you, also, I give my thanks.
Finally, love and thanks to my husband, Chris, whose wise counsel and gentle encouragement have often kept me going when I was ready to throw in the towel. How did I ever get so lucky?
ARRIVAL
Emily Prentice pressed her forehead against the airplane’s window, hoping for a glimpse of the place she’d be calling home for the next three months. When she heard that the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration had an internship in Ketchikan, she’d jumped at the chance to go, but the truth was, she hadn’t really thought much about what it would be like to live there. Now, seeing the snow-capped islands that hugged the coast like ships in a storm, she hoped she hadn’t made a mistake. After twenty-three years in Southern California, what on earth was she doing in Alaska?
There’d been a fight about it, of course. There was always a fight when Emily made a decision her mother didn’t approve of. Veronica Prentice had tried everything short of holding her breath and turning blue to keep her daughter from leaving home.
“What will I do without you?”
“Your friends will miss you.”
“You’re going to hate the cold!”
And the biggest one, of course:
“Won’t Carter be lonely?”
The two of them would probably still be arguing about it if Uncle Danny hadn’t stepped in.
Veronica would be fine, he assured her, and Emily and her friends could call or text each other every day. As for the cold, he was sure the new Canada Goose parka would keep his favorite niece toasty warm. And Carter? Well, with his final year of residency ahead of him, he’d probably be to
o busy at the hospital to notice she was gone.
Emily nestled back in her seat, smiling at the thought of the young man her mother called her “steady beau.” Their parents had known each other since before she was born—the Trescotts had been the first to arrive the day her father died—but Carter had never been anything more than Chelsea’s big brother until last year, when he’d kissed Emily at a New Year’s Eve party and everything changed. Since then, their families had been acting as if the two of them would always be together.
And who knew? Maybe they would.
Nevertheless, whether or not Carter Trescott turned out to be “the one,” Emily was determined to have a career of her own, and the job market for marine biology majors was limited to only a handful of research facilities. To find employment in San Diego, she’d have to have more than just good grades; she’d need experience and the endorsement of professionals in her field. Her adviser at Scripps had already written her a letter of recommendation and one of her professors had promised to do the same, but she figured the word of someone with practical expertise would carry more weight than a person in academia. Being an inspector at a fish cannery might not be the most glamorous job in the world, but it would add some much-needed work experience to her resume and prove that she wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty.
The thought of everything that awaited her when they landed was making her feel antsy again. Emily picked up her book and started rereading the first chapter, hoping to distract herself, but it wasn’t long before her attention began to drift.
If only her mother could find a boyfriend, she thought, both their lives would be so much easier. She knew how hard it must have been, being widowed at thirty-nine with a twelve-year-old to raise, and Emily appreciated everything her mother had done for her, but as time went on, her mother’s care and concern had turned into manipulation and control. There were days when Emily felt as if she were being smothered by her mother’s attention, to the point where she wanted to scream. Why couldn’t she just let go?
As the airplane started its descent, the butterflies in her stomach took flight. Emily reached for her bottle of ginger ale and took a sip. She had to stop worrying about her mother, she told herself. It did nothing but keep her from concentrating on moving forward with her own plans, and she had no intention of letting this opportunity go to waste. Chances were, her mother was already consoling herself with some intensive retail therapy.
Shadows swept across the cabin as the plane banked toward Revillagigedo Island, a mitten-shaped swath of green with two small towns—Ketchikan and Saxman—clinging to its leeward edge. As the pressure in her ears increased, Emily took another sip of soda and put it away, then brought her seat back to its full, upright position. Minutes later, she closed her eyes and felt her body strain against the seatbelt as they touched down and the engines reversed, slowing the plane and allowing the pilot to taxi toward the terminal. Emily took out her phone and texted her mother with the news that she’d arrived safely, then turned it off and shoved it deep into her bag, determined not to take it out again until she’d arrived at her new quarters.
When the plane stopped and the flight attendants had secured the doors, Emily grabbed her bag and the parka her mother had insisted she carry onboard—You’re going to Alaska; people live in ice houses up there!—then stepped out into the aisle. She thought she was heading out on a new adventure, a chance to live and work on her own in a part of the country where she’d never been before. Instead, her whole life was about to be turned upside down. And all because of a dog.
CHAPTER 1
Tim Garrett was waiting for her at the security gate, holding a hand-lettered sign that said: PRENTICE/NOAA. A tall, angular forty-something with springy brown hair and hazel eyes, Tim had interviewed Emily when she applied for the internship and he would be her supervisor while she was working at the cannery. She was surprised to see that he was wearing shorts.
“Welcome to Ketchikan,” he said as she approached. “How was the flight?”
“Great!” Emily moved the parka to her left arm so she could shake hands. “Got a late start out of Sea-Tac, but we made good time once we were in the air.”
“Come on.” He pointed. “Baggage claim’s this way.”
Tim turned and strode through the terminal, his long legs making it hard for her to keep up. As she hurried after him, Emily juggled her bag and the bulky black parka, feeling like a dork. The sky outside was intensely blue; not an igloo in sight. Why hadn’t she just packed the darned thing?
When they reached the baggage carousel, Tim checked his watch.
“With luck, this won’t take long,” he said. “The next ferry leaves in eighteen minutes.”
Emily glanced out the window at the stretch of water that separated them from town.
“So, we’re not actually in Ketchikan?”
He shook his head.
“Not enough flat land over there for a runway,” he told her. “Planes land here and people and cars have to ferry over.”
“Why don’t they just build a bridge?”
“We tried. Remember ‘The Bridge to Nowhere?’ That was us.” Tim chuckled ruefully. “Maybe I should have said, ‘Welcome to Nowhere.’ ”
The first of Emily’s bags slid onto the conveyor belt.
“I’ll get it,” Tim said when she pointed it out. “Let’s go.”
“Um, I’ve got another one,” she said, feeling her face flush. “Sorry.”
“Oh.” He set the bag down and checked his watch again. “Sure. No problem.”
Luckily, the second bag showed up seconds later. They caught the ferry in the nick of time.
“I’m afraid there’s not much storage room in your quarters,” Tim said, glancing in his mirror at the bags in back. “Things might be a little cramped.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
Emily already felt foolish for bringing a parka that looked like it belonged to Nanook of the North. She wasn’t going to let anyone accuse her of hogging up all the storage space, too.
“And don’t worry about your stuff while we’re at the cannery,” he said. “Folks there know better than to mess with my car.”
He reached around and grabbed a package off the back seat.
“Here you go,” Tim said, dropping it into her lap. “Hope it’s the right size. We’ll pick you up a hard hat and some rubber boots when we get there.”
Emily looked at the plastic bag in her lap: ARAMARK lab coat WHITE Size S.
“Go ahead,” he told her. “Try it on.”
Was this guy serious? She’d been on a plane all day; she’d just gotten there, for heaven’s sake. She hadn’t even had time to go to the bathroom. Besides, it was already after five o’clock. Wouldn’t the cannery be closed?
“You mean we’re going there now?”
“Sure,” he said, grinning. “Gotta make hay while the sun shines, right?”
Emily looked out the window, where a blazing sun still sat high above the patchy white clouds. If memory served, twilight at that latitude wouldn’t start until sometime after nine o’clock. There were still four hours of daylight left.
“Oh, yeah,” she said, wilting slightly. “I guess I forgot.”
A horn sounded the all clear and the ferry started its trip across the water.
“Would you like to get out?” Tim asked. “Stretch your legs? You’ve been cooped up for a while.”
“That’d be nice, yes.”
As she stepped out of the car, a stiff breeze tousled her hair, carrying with it the familiar smells of the ocean: seaweed and sand and driftwood. Emily took a deep breath and sighed contentedly. She’d been expecting Alaska to feel like a foreign country. Instead, she thought, it felt a lot like home.
* * *
It was almost six by the time they reached the cannery, an enormous white building perched along the quay. Tim pulled into the gravel parking lot and got out.
“My office is in here,” he said, motioning toward a do
or in the back of the building. “Once you’re suited up, I’ll give you the grand tour.”
Tim’s “office” was a cluttered room about the size of a closet, tucked away beside a door marked MECHANICAL. He grabbed a hard hat off the wall and handed it to Emily.
“See if this fits,” he shouted over the racket coming from next door.
She put it on and jiggled her head.
“It feels a little loose.”
He took it back and fiddled with the liner.
“Here,” he said. “See if that helps.”
Emily put it back on.
“Yes. That’s better.”
“Okay,” Tim said with a wink. “Let’s go see what you’ve gotten yourself into.”
Even at that hour, the waterfront was a hive of activity. Boats with fish to sell were being secured to the dock, buyers and sellers were haggling over price, and greedy-eyed gulls were waiting for a chance to pilfer a meal. Farther along the dock, men in thigh-high boots grabbed containers of fish as they were passed up out of the holds, stacking them on hand carts that were taken through a pair of open doors on their right.
“We’ll start at the beginning and move through each step of the process so you can see how things work,” Tim said as they stepped inside.
The cannery floor was enormous—the length of a football field, at least—crisscrossed with conveyor belts and metal ducting and lit by rows of cold fluorescent lights. Workers in yellow slickers and rubber boots stood shoulder-to-shoulder at long metal tables while blood poured over their feet. The hiss and clang and hum of machinery were deafening.