Mine Until Moonrise (Lost Harbor, Alaska Book 1)

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Mine Until Moonrise (Lost Harbor, Alaska Book 1) Page 9

by Jennifer Bernard


  Chapter Sixteen

  Lucas had been joking about digging up Megan’s secrets. Or at least he’d thought of it as a joke. But as soon as they reached one of his favorite halibut holes—two hundred feet deep with a nearby underwater ledge—curiosity got the best of him.

  How had this smooth-talker ended up with someone as genuine and authentic as Megan? And how had he let her go?

  He gave the controls to Ralphie and got Dev settled into the cushioned swivel chair with his best Okuma SST halibut rod. He baited the round hook with herring, attached a lead weight, and gestured for Dev to toss the line overboard. “Wait until the weight hits bottom, then close the reel. Have you done much fishing before?”

  “I went fly-fishing once. I never got the feel of it. Waste of an afternoon, except that I signed a big client that day.”

  “Yeah, fishing’s good for that kind of thing. It’s relaxing. Kind of a bonding experience.”

  Dev’s coppery forehead wrinkled. “Don’t worry, I’m not here for the bonding.”

  “Got it. No bonding allowed.”

  Something tugged at Dev’s line. He reeled it in too roughly and whatever it was disappeared.

  “Keep a nice even pace on that reel,” Lucas instructed. “It’s easy for the hook to get dislodged if you yank too soon. Let the halibut eat the bait first. Every once in a while, pull on the line and let the weight fall back to the ocean floor. That releases the scent of the bait, which draws the halibut.”

  Dev gave a curt nod. Oh great, one of those guys who didn’t appreciate instruction. Lucas had met all too many of them. He decided to scratch the interrogation section of the fishing trip and just enjoy being out on the water.

  The sun struck a million crystal lights on the faceted surfaces of the waves. A gaggle of Arctic terns floated nearby. A whiff of seaweed drifted past his nostrils; probably one of those rafts of kelp that had gotten uprooted in the last storm. It mingled with the smell of baitfish in a nostalgically nauseating way.

  The gentle rocking of the Jack Hammer lulled him into a sense of security that was smashed by Dev’s next question.

  “Are you interested in Megan?”

  Okay then. Getting right to the point. “Why would you ask that?”

  “I saw you together on the boardwalk. I know Megan very well. We weren’t married for long, but we’re intertwined because of Ruby. I got the sense that she likes you.”

  He had no interest in this line of discussion. “She’s been pretty clear about disliking me.”

  “No, that’s not what I saw. She likes you. It’s okay, I’m not fighting you for her. We only got married for Ruby. Bad idea all around. No regrets on the divorce.”

  “That’s…good.”

  He looked around for some kind of distraction, but there was no escape from this conversation. “We share office space. That’s more or less it.”

  “See, that’s what I wanted to know. If you’re not interested in her, I’ll hold my tongue. But if you are, there’s something you should know. Something I’m sure she hasn’t told you because she doesn’t talk about it. But she should.”

  This sounded like the textbook definition of invading someone’s privacy. It felt wrong—beyond wrong. And yet he was only human—and therefore curious.

  “Whatever it is, shouldn’t she tell me herself, if she wants to?” he managed.

  “She should. But she probably won’t. She dragged Ruby here to Alaska for a reason. I understand that. But she’s alone here and I don’t like it. At least one person ought to know the truth. So that’s why I’m asking—are you interested in her?”

  Lucas wrestled with how to answer. “Interested” seemed simultaneously too bland and too risky. He glanced back toward the wheelhouse. Was Ralphie listening to this conversation? He didn’t want any word of it spreading around. But Ralphie was talking to someone on the two-way handheld. Maybe checking in with Carla back at home base. And the engine noise, even at this low idle, would mask their conversation.

  “We have a…something…going on. Not exactly sure what it is,” he admitted. “But we’re not ‘involved.’”

  Dev nodded a few times, as if that matched up with his suspicions. “Not yet,” he offered.

  Lucas shrugged. He couldn’t predict the future. He definitely couldn’t predict anything having to do with Megan.

  “All things considered then, I feel I should tell you something before you go any further.”

  Lucas glanced longingly at the sixty-pound Dacron line extending into the water. This would be the perfect time for a halibut to make its presence known. Or anything really, even a clump of seaweed. This conversation was making him extremely uncomfortable. “Megan’s business is her own.”

  “She was the victim of a workplace shooting.”

  “What?” Lucas jerked his head around. “What are you talking about?”

  “Just before she moved to Alaska, she was working part time in the admissions office of the university where we met. An expelled student came in with an automatic weapon and started firing. Several were injured, but fortunately there were no deaths.”

  “Was Megan hurt?”

  “Not physically. But she struggled with insomnia and panic attacks afterwards. She went on medication for a time. She may still be on it, I’m not sure.”

  Now that definitely sounded like personal information that was none of his business. “She seems to have recovered pretty well. I’ve never seen her have a panic attack.”

  “Let’s hope she doesn’t, especially at the wheel of a boat with passengers aboard. Or Ruby.”

  Lucas glanced at him sharply. What was Dev’s true purpose here? Was he trying to cast doubt on Megan’s ability to run a boat?

  Frankly, he already had doubts about her boat skills. Ever since Megan had arrived, he’d questioned whether she knew what she was doing. With this new information...well, he didn’t yet know how it fit in.

  “You want me to keep an eye on her,” he finally said. “That’s why you’re telling me this.”

  “Yes.” Dev nodded and tugged at the line. “Felt a bite.”

  “Don’t react too soon. Gentle now.”

  Alertly, they both watched the line slide through the water. “Nothing,” Dev finally said. “Perhaps we should change locations.”

  “I’ll check the depth-finder.”

  Lucas went into the wheelhouse to consult his Lidar and his deckhand. “Got a good feeling,” Ralphie said. With one ankle propped over his knee, he aimlessly picked his nails with a fishhook. “No sense in moving yet. It’s nice here. Feel that day breeze? It’s gonna start pushing us around soon.”

  “Sure. Hope the fish start biting because...” He shrugged. Badmouthing a client didn’t sit right. “Find us some fish, that’s all.”

  “Want me to take a turn with the client?”

  “Nah. Don’t want to interrupt your manicure.”

  Ralphie laughed good-naturedly and scratched his head with the same fish hook. “Good the TV crew isn’t here now. I’d go viral.”

  As soon as Lucas rejoined him, Dev picked up where he’d left off. “You obviously know what you’re doing on the water. I look at Megan and I think, is this some kind of post-traumatic stress reaction, is that why she wants to be out here with nothing but birds and fish? And I suppose that’s understandable, but I need to think of my daughter. So I’m asking you, man to man, just keep an eye on her. Even if you’re nothing more than colleagues, or fellow boat-owners, or whatever it is.”

  “Harbor neighbors,” Lucas murmured.

  “I’ll even pay you.”

  Stunned into silence, Lucas didn’t answer at first. The quiver of the boat deck under his feet told him the day breeze was picking up, just as Ralphie had said. It happened every afternoon, a brisk onshore wind sweeping through Misty Bay and making the waves dance.

  Why was he thinking about the day breeze when this man had just seriously insulted him?

  “Pay me for what, exactly?” he asked in
a dangerously soft voice. “To spy for you?”

  Dev seemed to sense that he’d overstepped. “More like…be a kind of bodyguard. To watch over Megan for her own protection. And for Ruby’s. You seem to have a good rapport with my daughter.”

  Lucas fought to get a grip on his anger. As much as he’d clashed with Megan, he knew how much she loved Ruby. He’d never consider her some kind of risk to her daughter, but that was what Dev was implying. A panic attack at the helm of a boat would be dangerous. But he’d been watching her operate her business, and she was never reckless or careless.

  And yet—it was true that he didn’t know Megan very well. She’d definitely never mentioned anything about a shooting or panic attacks.

  “I won’t take your money,” he finally told Dev. “But I keep an eye on everything having to do with the boats in our harbor. Not just me, everyone does. And then there’s the Coast Guard.”

  “That doesn’t reassure me.”

  He thought of another thing. “The nature tours require calm conditions. Megan doesn’t generally take her boat out unless the seas are under two feet. Maybe you should just trust her to know what’s best.”

  Inwardly, he rolled his eyes at his own hypocrisy. How much trust had he afforded Megan? He’d written her off as a flighty Lower 48 wannabe without getting to know her.

  “I trust Megan, but PTSD is unpredictable.” Dev fished out a business card from his jeans pocket. “Here. My private number’s on the back. If anything seems like a red flag, call me. This is for Ruby,” he emphasized again.

  Just then, a firm yank on the line made him jerk around. He pushed the card at Lucas and turned to the rod, which was now arching deeply from the weight of a fish snagged at the end.

  Ralphie ran out from the wheelhouse to lend a hand. The next adrenaline-packed minutes were a blur of reeling, yelling, staggering across the deck and making way for the enormous hundred-pound halibut that eventually flopped onto the floorboards.

  “Nice one.” Ralphie exchanged a high-five with Dev, who wore a shell-shocked look.

  “I caught that thing,” he said in awe. “That’s simply…bizarre.”

  “Never caught a fish before?”

  “Not one like that. What happens to it now?” He backed away from the thrashing halibut.

  Lucas was kind of enjoying his discomfort. “We’ll pack it in ice until we get back to the harbor, where Ralphie here will gut it, clean it, fillet it and pack it into a shippable container for you.”

  “And then what?”

  “You take it home with you. Or I supposed you could mail it. I recommend next-day air.”

  Dev stared at the fish again, looking so queasy Lucas almost felt sorry for him. Except that the dude had tried to hire him to spy on Megan.

  “So a massive container of fish is going to show up on my doorstep and I’m supposed to…what, cook it? Eat it?”

  Lucas exchanged an amused glance with Ralphie. This was probably the oddest reaction to a newly landed fish that Lucas had ever witnessed. “That’s generally what happens, although we don’t usually follow up with our clients after they go home.”

  Dev wiped his hands on the seat of his jeans and studied the captured halibut as if it was a problem he was determined to solve. Lucas recognized Ruby in that look. “I don’t suppose you have any recipes you can share?”

  Lucas bit back a laugh. “We’ll set you up. No worries about that. Ralphie, take it away.” As Ralphie bent to extract the hook from the halibut’s mouth, Lucas clapped Dev on the shoulder. “You up for more? Or you want to head back?”

  “More. The next one’s for Megan and Ruby.”

  Lucas gave him a thumbs-up and strode into the wheelhouse. He opened up the throttle and pointed the bow in the direction of Deep Hollow, his go-to spot for rockfish. He happened to know that Ruby loved rockfish much more than halibut.

  Dev’s business card rustled in his pocket. It felt like his conscience pricking him with needles. If Megan knew about his conversation with Dev, she’d be livid. He didn’t have to know her very well to understand that.

  He should tell her what Dev was up to. She’d probably appreciate the heads up. Yes, that was what he’d do at the next opportunity. “Megan, I think you should know that your ex-husband is telling people that you have PTSD and wants to hire a spy.”

  But then he’d have to reveal that he knew about the shooting and the PTSD, something Megan clearly didn’t want to share.

  Better to pretend he still knew nothing about it. And maybe keep an eye out for trouble. Which he always did anyway.

  Chapter Seventeen

  After three more days of awkwardness, Megan drove Dev to the tiny Lost Harbor airport. She’d never been so relieved to see someone off before. Never before had his patronizing ways been so obvious. Was it because she’d been running her own business for months now? Had the Forget Me Not at least given her that?

  All in all, she considered the visit successful. Dev’s main purpose had been to give Ruby an online math aptitude test he’d discovered. Once that was done, the two of them had spent several happy hours beachcombing. They’d found a starfish as big as a manhole cover and a washed-up jellyfish that Ruby was determined to rescue.

  The expression on Dev’s face as he’d tried to prod the jellyfish onto a towel for transport—priceless. He really was the ultimate city boy.

  “I’m glad you came, Dev. Ruby really had fun showing you around. We’re going to make a photo album of all those rocks you found on the beach.”

  “So I’ll see her next month, yeah?”

  “Yeah.” It went against the grain to send Ruby away during the heart of the Alaska summer. But Dev had enrolled Ruby in an excellent math day camp at the local university. She was excited about it, so Megan didn’t object. It would only be for three weeks. She’d manage.

  Oh, who was she kidding? She’d be a mess. But she’d survive, as she always did during Ruby’s absences. Ice cream, lots of random projects, and intense housecleaning usually helped.

  “About the Forget Me Not. Does the business need a bailout?”

  “Absolutely not,” she said quickly.

  Dev really knew how to dent her self-confidence. A bailout?

  He’d already offered her some extra money beyond his regular monthly child care amount, but she’d refused. She didn’t want to give him any ammunition to think she wasn’t taking care of things here.

  “The Trekking show is airing tonight and the extra exposure is really going to help.”

  “Here’s hoping.” Dev held up two crossed fingers, then bent to kiss her on the cheek. “Offer’s open. If there’s anything I know how to do properly, it’s rescue troubled businesses.”

  “Good for you,” she said through gritted teeth. Troubled business? Why couldn’t he just mind his own business? But, of course, her business would always be intertwined with his, because of Ruby. “Are you going to watch the show?”

  “I’ll have my assistant record it.”

  And thus ends the latest chapter in the co-parenting adventures of Megan Miller, she thought as she drove her truck back from the airport. She’d left Ruby at the beach with Hunter and his mother. They were collecting driftwood for a fire and Megan hadn’t wanted to drag her away from the fun. Ruby didn’t like extended goodbyes. Airports made her restless and snappy. Megan often wondered if it was because so many of their family partings happened at airports. She probably had bad flashbacks every time she stepped into one.

  Megan could relate to bad flashbacks. Good thing she had complete control over hers.

  Her phone rang. Captain Kid was on the line. “Big viewing party tonight at the movie theater,” he told her. “Spread the word. They’re putting it up on the big screen.”

  The “movie theater” was little more than an old warehouse with a projection screen and rows of seats from an old school bus.

  “I was thinking I’d watch at home with Ruby.”

  “Ruby can come. That’s why they’re h
aving it at the theater. Family friendly.”

  “Okay, maybe.” She wondered if Lucas was going to be there. She hadn’t seen much of him since the fishing trip with Dev. “I need to make sure our website is up to snuff in case we get a rush of new bookings.”

  “Ya never know.”

  He didn’t sound especially hopeful. It didn’t matter much to him, since he could get work on any fishing boat he wanted. The only reason he’d chosen the Forget Me Not was that he wanted to stay close to home instead of leaving for weeks at a time.

  She parked in the gravel lot of Seafarer’s Beach, where a bronze statue honoring all the lost fishermen gazed wistfully out to sea. Long driftwood logs separated the parking area from the beach. Beach peas and lupines added touches of color—radiant purple and cheerful green. She sidestepped between two logs and shaded her eyes against the sunshine. In the hazy sparkle of ocean light, she had trouble identifying the people on the beach. Dog-walkers, kids making castles in the dark sand, teenagers flirting with the icy surf.

  The sand in Misty Bay wasn’t anything like the fine stuff she’d lain on during her honeymoon in Mexico. The sand here was a close cousin to mud, with a weighty density to it. Clams lurked under the surface, their homes revealed by tiny air holes. It had a spongy feel underfoot and squished pleasantly between the toes.

  Finally she spotted Ruby, who had her arms wrapped around the neck of a handsome Irish setter. Fidget, it looked like. A sneaky thrill shot through her. Was Lucas here too?

  And why was that possibility making her pulse pick up a beat?

  She spotted Lucas a little distance away from Ruby. He gripped a stick in one hand. With a dramatic windup, he winged it down the beach. Fidget chased after it in long galloping leaps. Ruby shrieked and clapped her hands with glee.

  “Go Fidget, go!” she called to the dog. He pounced on the stick, then raced back toward Lucas. Then paused, torn between the excited little girl to his left or his beloved owner to his right.

 

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