Hooked (A Romance on the Edge Novel) (25 page)

“Where did Aidan come from?”

“Aidan didn’t have any part in this, Garrett. He saved Peter’s life.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences, Sonya. Where did he come from?”

“We’re both fisherman, Garrett. He must have been in line to tender his fish too.”

“Were there fish in his boat?”

“Well…no. I don’t think so.” Sonya scratched at a mosquito bite on her arm. “He must have just finished tendering before I started to.”

“Did you see him in line?”

Sonya thought about the long wait, bobbing on the waves, as fishermen tendered in front of her. “Uh…I’m not sure.”

“Okay, that’s enough for now.”

Sonya laid her hand on his arm. “Garrett, Aidan didn’t have anything to do with Peter falling overboard. It was an accident. They happen.”

“I don’t like the feel of this.” Garrett whipped off his sunglasses and wedged them in the opening of his shirt. “My gut’s telling me that you’re in serious trouble.” He wrapped his hand over hers where it rested on his arm. “You’ve had too many ‘accidents.’ Peter could have died today. You need to watch out for Aidan.”

“I have no delusions where Aidan is concerned. He helped us today, and I’m grateful, but that doesn’t mean all is forgotten.”

His eyes bored into hers. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing. Now, is there anything else I can do for you, officer?” His hand tightened over hers as she tried to yank it free.

“I’m not the kind of man who falls for the brush off. What’s between you and Aidan?”

“Nothing,” she repeated. “We’ve already been over this.”

“Fine.” His expression hardened. “What
was
between you?”

The man wasn’t going to let it go and in order to end this conversation and send him on his way, she would have to give a little. “Aidan’s always been sweet on me. Last summer we fell together.”

“Fell together?”

“I thought I could love him, okay.”

He flexed his jaw. “Thought you could?”

She yanked her hand free and he let her go. She paced away from him, bent to pick a yellow flower, and raised it to her nose. “We fit, at least initially. We enjoy the same things. Value the same things. But…”

“But?”

She turned back to him. “Will you stop that?”

“Stop what?”

“That. Repeating what I say, making it a question.” She slapped a mosquito, and then flicked the bug off her arm.

“Sonya, I’m a cop, which means I’m a detail kind of man. You’re damn good at giving half-truths. You want me to stop. Better start giving me full answers.”

She stared at him and then gritted out, “Aidan and I just didn’t fit.”

“What happened, Sonya?”

She huffed out a breath. “We fought over me wanting to drift. Among other things.”

“Why?”

She tossed the flower aside. “That’s just it. I don’t know why. I don’t understand why a fisherman wouldn’t want to catch as much fish as he can. Believe me, I know getting into drifting isn’t for everyone. First, it’s a hell of an investment. I’ve been fishing out here all my life and I wanted more. To me, investing in drifting made good sense.”

“Aidan didn’t see it that way?”

“No, he refused to understand that I believe the risk is worth the return. Or will be. He wouldn’t see my side of it. He wasn’t willing to compromise.”

“Neither were you,” he pointed out.

“Why should I be the one to compromise? Because I’m a woman?” She threw her hands in the air. “I’ve dreamed of doing this all my life. So did my dad. He’d been geared up to drift when…”

“When?” he prompted.

Waves of sorrow swirled in the air around her.
Was the past repeating itself?

“When he was killed.” Sonya shook her head trying to clear it. “My dad’s death has nothing to do with Peter going for an unscheduled swim.”

“Sonya.” His voice changed, became softer and had the effect of her fearing what he had to say next. “Wes was found unconscious and the
Double Dippin’
adrift.”

“
What
? Is he—” She couldn’t voice the question, didn’t know if she could handle the answer.

“He’s going to be fine. Wanda checked him over and released him. He’ll have a hell of a headache, but he’ll be okay.”

Sonya released a breath, but her hands shook. “What happened?”

“The details are sketchy. From witness accounts we’ve been able to put together the following scenario. Someone boarded the
Double Dippin’
when she was tied at the cannery’s dock, hit Wes over the head and then cut the boat loose. The boat drifted free until it ran into the
Miss Julie II
. Treat jumped aboard the
Double Dippin’
and found Wes. That’s when we were notified.”

“Where are Wes and the
Double Dippin’
now?”

“She’s beached about a half mile from the cannery. Wes is back onboard waiting for the incoming tide. I’ve already checked the boat over, but you’ll want to have a double look.” He took a step closer to her. “Kendrick’s slipped from our radar. We’re looking for him right now. In the meantime, who else might have it out for you, Sonya?”

Her eyes slid to the side and then back to his. “I don’t know who would do something like this.”

“Yes, you do. Who were you thinking of just now? Harte?”

“No, absolutely not. Aidan wouldn’t be behind anything like this.”

“As much as I’d like to question Harte regarding this, he happens to have a damn good alibi.” His lips tightened. “All this went down about the time Peter fell overboard. Unless Aidan had help, like his father or uncle.”

“While I can’t see Aidan as a party to this, I wouldn’t put it past Cranky or Crafty.”

“What would they have to gain?”

“Cranky wouldn’t have to gain anything. He just likes to make life miserable for people. Crafty, on the other hand, would have an agenda. He always has an agenda.”

“What would his agenda be?”

“I don’t know. You’d have to ask him. No one understands how that man’s mind works.”

“What history is there between you and Kendrick?”

“Kendrick’s a son of bitch. He likes it when bad things happen to good people. He likes it even more if he’s the cause of it.”

“What would he have against you or your family?”

“Listen, the only one who has something against Kendrick
would
be me.”

“Why you?”

“Do we have to start in with the questions again?”

“That’s the only way I get answers. If it bugs you, start volunteering information.”

“I come out here every year to fish. That’s all I want to do. I don’t get involved in the politics between the set netters and the drifters, or jump through the hoops the cannery makes you jump through every year. I just fish.”

“Whether you like it or not, you’ve caught someone’s attention and they want to stop you from fishing. The smallest amount of information might be the lead we need to put an end to this before someone gets killed.”

She regarded him for a minute and then came to a decision. “Look into the sinking of the
Mystic
.”

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-
O
NE

Sonya boarded the
Double Dippin’
after making sure Peter would be fine, and entered the pilot house. “Wes,” Sonya greeted on a whisper. “How’s the head?”

“Pounding.” Wes lay on the bunk with an instant cold pack on the top of his head. He’d draped a sock over his eyes to cut out the light. She hoped it was clean. He lifted the toe of the sock, and looked at her out of one eye. “You look as bad as I feel.”

“We’re quite the pair.” And here she’d thought her wounds seemed better today.

“For Halloween maybe.”

“I’m so sorry, Wes.”

“Don’t. What happened today isn’t your fault. For all we know Margaret’s pissed someone off.”

Sonya chuckled. Grams would be the least likely to offend anyone. Wes couldn’t be hurt too bad if he was making jokes. Either that or he was dying and putting up a good front. “Maybe these will make you feel better.” She uncapped the lid to the plastic container full of Monster Mug-ups.

“They would if you have milk to go with them, and not the powdered stuff?”

She pulled a carton out of the bag she’d carried on board. “I stopped at the General Store.”

“Now, you’re talking. It’s been way too long since we’ve had fresh milk.”

“I can’t vouch for the freshness, only that the milk hasn’t passed its expiration date. We’d better hurry and drink it.” Sonya fetched two paper cups from the cabinet next to the mini fridge, and poured milk into each of them.

Wes gingerly sat up and she passed a cup to him. She hitched a seat beside him, and placed the container of cookies between them.

“I’d thought Peter had scarfed down the last of these.”

“This is my secret stash.”

He bit into one and moaned with pleasure. “Almost makes getting beamed in the head worth it.” He winced as he moved his head too fast. “Almost.”

“Garrett told me what he thinks happened. What do you think?”

He was quiet for a long while. Sonya waited. She knew from experience when something really mattered, Wes took his time. He finished his cookie, washed it down with a gulp of milk and then reached for another. “I think Peter’s right, and we need to be armed.”

That was the last thing she thought Wes would say. He didn’t like guns. Even when a bear ventured too close to camp, his last resort was to shoot at it. Scaring it away with loud noises, throwing rocks—that sort of thing was more his style. Never guns. It told her more than words could how shaken he was over what had happened.

“I’m really sorry, Wes. I never thought my decision to drift would bring about all these problems. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I didn’t think someone would go far enough to hurt one of us.”

He squeezed her knee. “I’ve been thinking and I believe whoever is causing us trouble would have done so with or without you drifting. Plus, we have no idea if that was his trigger or if it’s something else. It could very well be something that’s been brewing for a long time.”

“You’re talking about the sinking of the
Mystic
?” That was twice today she’d mentioned the
Mystic
.

“A lot of unresolved issues with that.”

“I’m the one who lost the most when she went down.” Her father, her mother, her twin. “What more could the person responsible want?”

His somber gaze sunk into hers. “You.”

“What do you know about the sinking of the
Mystic
?” Garrett asked Skip as soon as he boarded the
Calypso
later that evening after returning from Sonya’s. He remembered Skip and Judd touching on it during his debriefing when he’d first arrived.

“I wondered when that would come up.” Skip sighed and stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing his ankles. “Any time the Savonskis and Kendrick are mentioned in the same sentence, the mystery of the
Mystic
resurfaces.”

“Sad, sad times.” Judd shook his head, his eyes trained on the aluminum deck of the cabin. “It was my first summer out here.” He raised his head and looked at Skip. “It’s been what, fourteen years now?”

“Yeah, coming up on the anniversary in about a week.” Skip rubbed the back of his neck. “Sonya’s dad, Mik, had purchased the
Mystic
around the end of the season.”

“Let me guess,” Garrett said. “He bought it from Chuck Kendrick.”

“Yep.” Judd nodded. “Mik wanted to get into drifting.” He gave a humorless chuckle. “Like father, like daughter.”