by Sam Cameron
Sean joined them, a big cup of coffee in hand. “Think of the odds! Your house gets smashed in and you don’t.”
“I’d rather not think about that at all, thanks,” Captain Anderson said, one hand on Denny’s shoulder.
Kelsey asked, “How’s Steven?”
“Bored,” Denny said. “And he wants a bagel.”
Captain Anderson almost laughed. He looked shaken up, Brian decided. Nearly losing both your sons in a freak accident could do that to a guy.
“I better go check on him,” Captain Anderson said. “Denny, stay here or you’re grounded.”
“So not fair,” Denny muttered.
Sean asked, “What’s it like inside?”
Denny frowned, “Like a big tree smashed everything I own. Everything I was going to take to the academy. My books, my laptop—”
Brian put his hand on Denny’s shoulder. “Stuff that can be replaced, okay? Trust me. I know.”
Denny nodded. “Okay.”
The paramedics didn’t seem too worried about Denny’s bump, especially since he said he wasn’t nauseated or dizzy. Brian thought he might lie if it meant sticking around until Steven got out, but Denny seemed sincere enough. By the time the paramedics were done cleaning the cut, Steven was being helped out through the bedroom window. He, too, was wearing a fireman’s coat. He pounded his dad on the back and flashed a cocky grin.
“Can’t even get killed by a big falling tree,” he said.
Kelsey murmured, “Egotist.”
Captain Anderson hugged Steven as tightly as he had Denny, and then brought him to the ambulance as well. Kelsey threw her arms around Steven so hard he staggered a little.
“I was worried,” she said.
“Piece of cake.” Steven disentangled her with a flash of awkwardness. “The hardest part was keeping Denny calm.”
“You were the one freaking out when the chain saws started,” Denny said.
Steven sat on the tailgate. “Tell any lie that makes you feel better, Miss Screamypants.”
Brian decided that if there was any truth to the situation, it was something they’d keep quiet between them. As an only child he didn’t understand much about brothers, and not a lot at all about twins. He had figured out, however, that with these two you couldn’t always count on what one of them was saying, and you couldn’t always discount it, either.
The paramedics pronounced both twins fine. The on-duty firefighters returned to their trucks but a sizable number of volunteers remained to help with the cleanup and to string tarps over the ruined part of the roof. Denny and Steven both wanted to help, but their father vetoed the idea. Instead, Captain Anderson studied the house and sighed.
“I guess we’ll be living in a tent until it all gets fixed up,” he said.
“Dad,” Steven and Denny both complained.
“What?” Captain Anderson raised both eyebrows. “You like camping. You love spending overnight on islands.”
Steven said, “Overnight, yeah. Not for weeks and weeks with no running water in the middle of summer.”
Captain Anderson scratched the side of his head. “The insurance might cover a motel.”
“A motel,” Denny said dubiously.
“If you have a better idea, now’s the time to volunteer it,” Captain Anderson said.
Denny didn’t look at Brian at all. Brian thought about inviting him to stay with him and his mom, but would she agree? Besides, he wasn’t sure Denny would enjoy that. Mom was having a hard time with things, as evidenced by the ruined date night, and it might be too much to ask Denny to move into all that drama.
Steven said, “Nathan Carter’s boat! He asked me to look after it while he’s in the hospital. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if we moved on board.”
“Mom’s not going to want to live on a boat,” Denny said. “How about the apartment over the Bookmine? It’s full of junk, but we could clear it out.”
Kelsey said, “I’m sure my dad would let you sleep in our guest room, Steven.”
Steven lifted his chin stubbornly. “The boat is perfect.”
They were still arguing over which option was better when a police sergeant approached, a report in hand. Brian didn’t recognize him, but his name tag said H. Martin.
“There’s a tree on your house, Greg,” he said.
“I noticed,” Captain Anderson said. “What’s that?”
Sergeant Martin handed over the paper. “Just thought you’d like to know. NASA lost a satellite last night. Some chunk of equipment dropped into the ocean.”
Steven perked up. “I saw it! Like a shooting star.”
“In your dreams,” Denny said.
“No, really,” Steven insisted.
“What does NASA want us to do?” Captain Anderson asked.
Martin said, “Nothing. Keep an eye out.”
“I bet it’s a top-secret spy satellite,” Steven said. “I could find it for them.”
Denny elbowed him. “You’re going to be too busy helping me clean out the apartment.”
“We don’t need an apartment when we have Carter’s boat,” Steven retorted.
“Tent,” Captain Anderson said. “Right here, on the lawn. One big happy family. Because you’re crazy if you think I’m letting you out of my sight for even a single minute.”
Chapter Five
In the end, it took begging, logic, and a stroke of good luck to save the day. Steven tried the begging (“Dad, come on, Denny goes away in three weeks and you want him to live in a tent?”). Dad looked sympathetic but unmoved. Denny tried the logical approach (“Dad, we’re eighteen years old! That’s old enough to live on our own, right?”), but Dad didn’t go for that, either.
“Camping will be fun,” Dad insisted. “Just like when you were kids.”
When they hauled the family tent out of the shed and spread it on the ground, good luck struck. Green mold covered most of the fabric and something had been chewing on the netting.
Dad blinked at the damage. “Okay, plan B. We’ll all move into the apartment over the Bookmine.”
Steven saw his opening. “It’s tiny up there, Dad. We don’t even know if the plumbing still works. I’m telling you, Nathan Carter’s boat is much better.”
“Except that Aunt Riza gets seasick,” Denny said.
Steven had forgotten about that. “Okay, so Dad and Mom and Aunt Riza take the apartment, and Denny and I move onto the boat, and everyone’s happy.”
Dad looked away from the tent at the volunteers still clearing away the tree debris. His forehead was turning red under the steady sunlight, and his clothes were sweaty and grimy. “All right. Get Carter on the phone.”
Carter was in physical therapy, so Steven had to leave a message. A half hour later he called back and talked to Dad on the speakerphone.
“Sure, take the boat,” Carter said. “I trust the boys. Sorry about your house.”
“Thanks, Nathan,” Dad replied. “How’s things up there?”
Carter huffed. “Fine, except for overprotective mother hens who should go back to the FBI and leave me alone.”
In the background, Agent Garcia said, “I heard that!”
Sean, Kelsey, Brian and some other friends volunteered to help the twins move, but there wasn’t much worth salvaging. Their laptop had a big crack in it, the TV was a total loss, and their books had turned into soggy lumps of pulp. They grabbed some clothes that needed to be laundered, managed a milk crate each of small stuff, and by lunchtime were sitting on the deck of Carter’s old fishing boat, the Idle. Sean and Brian had made a sandwich run for everyone. Steven happily dug into an oversized steak and cheese sub with onions and peppers. He felt bad about the house, but living on a boat? Totally worth enjoying.
“You’re not eating,” Brian said to Denny.
Denny poked at his French fries. He tossed one to a seagull on the dock, and a dozen more started clamoring for their share. “Sure I am.”
Brian frowned. Steven studied his brother. Dad had told him to keep an
eye on that bump on Denny’s head, but Steven thought his brother’s moroseness had nothing to do with a headache. Almost everything that Denny had been packing for the Coast Guard Academy was either wet or ruined—socks, T-shirts, toiletries, photos, even all that study material he’d downloaded.
“There’s plenty of time to replace your stuff,” Steven said.
“Yeah.” Denny threw another French fry. “I know.”
“The important thing is that no one got killed.” Kelsey dug into a blue cooler she’d filled with ice and soda. “It could be a lot worse.”
Steven appreciated the sentiment, but he wasn’t sure why Kelsey was hanging around. It wasn’t as if they’d gotten back together. She’d let him borrow her father’s boat back when Denny and Brian were stranded on Mercy Key, but she was still mad that he’d slept with Jennifer O’Malley. Or at least she should be. That had been a kind of rotten thing to do. Yet she’d given him a big hug this morning and kept looking at him fondly.
No women, he reminded himself.
Brian’s phone rang. Steven had heard it buzzing before, but Brian had ignored it until now. “I’m right here,” Brian said when he answered, and then he walked away for some privacy. When he came back he said to Denny, apologetically, “I have to go home.”
Sean stood up. “I should go, too. Robin’s been at the Bookmine by herself all day.”
“The store!” Denny exclaimed. “I totally forgot.”
“We can take care of it,” Sean promised. “Completely under control.”
Brian reached out as if to touch Denny’s arm, then stopped himself. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
Denny nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”
Something passed between them that Steven couldn’t quite figure out. He was glad Brian had come over. He still wasn’t sure, based on Denny’s answers about their date, whether they were officially boyfriend-and-boyfriend now, or just friends waiting to see what came next.
Not that Steven had any interest in Denny’s love life, but if Denny ended up moping about this relationship for the next three weeks, Steven would have to throw him overboard.
After lunch, Kelsey dropped Denny and Steven back at their house. She had to leave after that, and Steven was relieved she didn’t try to give him a good-bye kiss. Instead she said, “Call me if you need anything,” and Steven said he would, though he probably wouldn’t.
“Are you two getting back together?” Denny asked as they crossed the yard.
“No. Absolutely not,” Steven said.
The house looked positively peaceful now that the fire department and police cruisers had left. An electrician was working on the damaged mast and wires. Most of the fallen oak tree had been piled up nearby, waiting to be mulched or hauled away. The blue tarp tied over the roof flapped in the salty breeze.
“Are those sandwiches?” Dad asked when he saw the bag in Steven’s hand. “I have the best sons in the universe.”
Steven handed over the food. “How’s it looking?”
Dad sat at the picnic bench near the dock and tore the bag open. “The good news is that the living room and kitchen are okay. The rest of the house, not so much.”
“Your room?” Denny asked.
“Wet and soggy.”
Steven straddled the bench. “What did Mom say?”
“That we needed a new roof anyway,” Dad replied. “And that you shouldn’t have any parties on Nathan Carter’s boat.”
“No parties,” Denny agreed.
Dad eyed him. “How’s your head?”
“Doesn’t hurt,” Denny said.
Dad bit into a tuna sandwich and made a happy noise. “I have to wait for the insurance guy from Miami. Why don’t you two go relax, I’ll catch up to you.”
They said they would, mostly to make Dad feel better, but once they were in Steven’s truck they decided to go clear out the apartment over the Bookmine. There were only three tiny rooms up there, plus a bathroom that had a tub full of dead palmetto bugs. Layers of dust, stifling heat, and the disturbing smell of rat droppings made Steven pull his T-shirt over his nose.
“I think a hotel is a much better idea,” he said.
Denny moved a box and tried to open one of the windows. “You know Mom’ll want her own space.”
Every room was full of heavy book boxes. It took a dozen trips up and down the rickety staircase to empty the place. They piled the boxes in the far corner of the bookstore’s philosophy section, which few people visited anyway. Sean and Robin were too busy at the front desk to offer much help.
“At this rate we’ll be done by Christmas,” Denny said, once they’d uncovered an ancient sofa and he could plop down on it. Like Steven, he’d sweated through his T-shirt. With the windows open and a fan going the apartment had cooled, though not a lot. “Why don’t you call Eddie to come help?”
“You and Eddie don’t get along,” Steven reminded him. Which was Eddie’s fault, really, for being such a homophobic jerk sometimes, but Steven didn’t say that.
Denny yawned and tilted his head back. “If he can lift a box, we’ll get along just fine.”
Steven’s phone rang. He knew the caller: Captain Flaherty, over at the Coast Guard station.
“How’s your house?” Captain Flaherty asked, loud and cheerful.
“Very well ventilated, sir,” Steven said.
Flaherty chuckled. “Nathan Carter called to tell me you’re borrowing his boat. I need some transport. Do you think you could come on in to discuss it?”
Steven glanced at Denny. Denny shrugged.
“We’ll be there in a half hour,” Steven said. After disconnecting he said, “I knew it.”
“Knew what?” Denny asked.
“That missing top-secret NASA satellite,” Steven said. “The Coast Guard is going to hire us to help find it.”
Chapter Six
The Coast Guard station for the Middle Keys was a small collection of concrete buildings and piers that supported five boats. Denny hoped that one day, after he got his commission, he’d be stationed somewhere as busy as this one was with rescues, drug interdiction, and other operations. He really hoped he didn’t get posted somewhere freezing cold, like Maine or Alaska. He had no desire to turn into a human Popsicle.
Of course, that all assumed he’d live past age eighteen.
Which, since four o’clock this morning, didn’t seem as sure a thing as he’d always taken it to be. Certainly he and Steven had risked their lives on cases. More than once they’d had a too-close call with danger, but honestly? He’d never pictured himself dying because of one rotten oak tree.
The security guard examined Steven’s license and let him drive through to the small parking lot. Neither Denny nor Steven had better clothes to change into, but they’d at least washed up and combed their hair.
Most everything was locked up or closed on this Sunday, but a sailor let them into the admin building and escorted them toward Captain Flaherty’s office. Steven kept craning his head, probably looking for stray top-secret reports, but nobody had left classified information conveniently exposed. They passed a coffee break room filled with three chatting sailors. A man in a wheelchair was in there, too, punching information into a laptop while scowling at the screen.
“Good to see you both intact!” Captain Flaherty said when they reached his office. He was short and balding, and could pass for a desk jockey except for the triathlon pictures and medals on the wall. “Nice bump.”
Denny touched his forehead. He’d pretty much forgotten about it, except when people pointed it out. “Nothing that won’t be gone in three weeks, sir.”
Captain Flaherty grinned. “Reporting In Day will be here faster than you think. Sit down, sit down.”
Steven was barely sitting before he leaned forward eagerly. “How goes the search for that satellite?”
“Satellite? Oh, that NASA equipment. Some kind of weather gauge, I heard. The contractor’s out looking for it.” The captain ruffled through a sheaf of papers an
d scanned one. “A company by the name of Othello Industries.”
Steven said, “We can help find it.”
“I’m sure you could,” Captain Flaherty said, lifting his coffee mug. “I had something else in mind, though. My younger brother’s gotten himself a new hobby. Underwater photography. Good stuff. That’s one of his, over there.”
Denny studied the framed twelve-by-fourteen-inch photo on the far wall. The shot had captured another diver suspended in the water between two undersea cliffs. Sunlight filtered down from above, lending light to a dozen shades of blue and green. The picture managed to be completely ordinary but also spectacular at the same time.
“Brad came down to take pictures all week but his charter boat’s disappeared,” Captain Flaherty said.
Steven asked, “Disappeared?”
Captain Flaherty said, “It was Larry Gold. You know Larry.”
Everyone knew Larry. Not the best diver or captain in the Keys, but he could fast-talk the tourists and was generally a nice guy. His biggest problem was constantly losing money at the Seminole casinos.
Denny said, “There’s a dozen dive boats for hire between here and Islamorada.”
“Not available for five days on such short notice,” Captain Flaherty said. “He’s fully certified and has been diving for two years. All you’ve got to do is take him out and let him follow his bliss. My niece Tristan is with him. She’s certified, too, and knows how to help him.”
“Help him with what?” Steven asked.
“There’s a mobility issue,” Captain Flaherty asked. “But again, good money. And I’d consider it a personal favor. Otherwise he’s going to be hanging around my house all week, driving my wife crazy.”
“I’m the one who owes you a favor, sir,” Denny said. “Your recommendation letter helped me get into the academy.”
Captain Flaherty shook his head. “You earned that yourself. This is separate. And unofficial, since you don’t have a license to run a charter boat. Just say no if you can’t do it or aren’t comfortable—no hard feelings.”
Denny hesitated. He was supposed to be working at the Bookmine, but Mom had already told him to make his own schedule for these last few weeks of his summer vacation. He’d hoped to spend a lot of it with Brian, but if Brian wanted to take things slow, he was going to have a lot of pent-up energy.
