“Normally when I see a woman on all fours, I don’t interrupt.” Christian tossed his keys in the air, caught them right as I looked up from my crawl across the Queen’s aqua-blue deck. I fixed him with a mean glare. “But, summer of firsts,” he said. “Up for a hardware store run? Maybe get lunch from someplace other than Vanessa’s picnic basket? That’s not a euphemism. Seriously. There’s only so much flavored water and finger sandwiches a guy can take.”
I stripped off my yellow gloves and protective mask, offering a relieved smile. We’d been scrubbing grime and barnacles for a week straight; close quarters with Christian on this dirty little vessel had given new meaning to the phrase “cabin fever.”
There was a decent hardware store on Main Street, but Christian said that the owner of Nutz-n-Boltz, a small shop tucked among the pines in the northeast part of town, was an old friend.
Right. Jessica Boltz was older than Christian by a decade, but that didn’t stop her from eyeing him with the same look I’d seen on the younger tourists at the Cove—battle weary, but always up for another fight.
“Captain Kane.” She didn’t set down her magazine as we approached the counter, but the glint in her eyes told me she was watching our every move. “Been a while, sailor.”
“Miss me, Jess?” Christian winked at her.
“Eh,” she said with a shrug. “I could take you or leave you.” She finally dropped the magazine, and her grin widened. “Enough with the mushy reunion, Kane. What can I do you for?”
Christian opened his mouth to say something crass, but Jess cut him off.
“No, that wasn’t an offer.” Her words were for him, but her eyes were on me, assessing. “Hear you two are the team to beat this summer.”
“Heard right. This is Elyse, first mate.”
“Did you say first date?” she teased. “Because I’m pretty sure the Cove’s never seen a lady pirate at the helm.”
“Don’t start, Jess,” Christian said. “We’re taking enough shit from Katzenberg.”
“Lighten up, sailor.” She gave me a polite smile, her eyes flicking briefly over the scar behind my seashell necklace before turning back to Christian. “You’re not actually putting the Vega in the water this year?”
Christian nodded.
“Don’t get me wrong, Kane. You know that ol’ girl holds a special place in my heart.” She waited a beat too long before continuing. “But maybe you should put her out of her misery. Let Noah do his thing.”
Christian leaned across the counter, tapped it twice. “If I let Noah do his thing, you may as well put up the For Sale sign here. Katzenberg has his way, you won’t even recognize the Cove next summer.”
“You’re right,” she said. “I might actually get more than two customers a week. Imagine?”
Christian’s jaw ticked again, but whatever was bothering him, he stowed it. It wasn’t the first time we’d encountered a proponent of the mayor’s initiative. Whether it was snippets of conversation drifting from the other boats at the marina or full-blown arguments at the Black Pearl, we’d heard it all. Yea or nay, no one was on the fence. The town really was, as Kirby and Lemon had told me, divided. It seemed Jessica thought the changes—however they’d resurface the face of the Cove—would be good for business.
“Anyway.” Christian reached into his back pocket and pulled out a list, slid it across the counter. “Here’s what you can do me for.”
She scanned the list, brow furrowing. “Afraid I’m out.”
“You’re kidding,” Christian said. “Everything?”
For the first time since we walked in, Jessica’s gaze dropped to the counter and stayed there. Absently she flipped a page in the magazine. “Had a run on sealants and gel coat last week. Lots of people patching up boats for the summer, I guess.”
Christian turned to check out the shelves for himself.
“Save yourself the trouble,” she said. “I know we’re out.”
“How about I just take a peek?”
“No!” she said, her confidence gone. “I mean . . . I’ve got it all on order. Might take a while, though.”
Christian tugged the wallet from his back pocket, pulled out a shiny gold credit card and dropped it on the counter. “How long?”
Jessica hesitated, which is what Christian wanted, but the trick didn’t work. “Three weeks, maybe?” she said. “A month? Try me again in August.”
Christian grabbed the card and his list from the counter, stuffed them both into his wallet.
When Jessica finally met his eyes again, her mouth was turned down, shoulders drooping. It was a slight change, but like the look that passed between them on arrival, it told me everything.
She felt bad about something. And not just because she’d supposedly run out of sealant.
In an apologetic tone she said, “Christian, I’m just . . . Did you try Big Mike’s?”
“Should we?” he asked. “Or will Mike be out of everything I need too? Mind giving him a call and asking? You guys do stuff like that, right? Look out for all the good people of the Cove?”
Jessica’s freckles paled behind the rosy heat rising in her cheeks.
Christian smacked the counter with his palm and flashed a corporate kind of smile that would make his father proud. “Good seeing you again, Jess. Give the mayor my regards.”
I didn’t hear whatever apologies she fumbled next. With his hand on my lower back, Christian ushered me out the door.
At the far end of the parking lot two men were setting up surveying equipment. One of them adjusted a tripod while the other scanned the area, making notes on a clipboard.
Christian leaned back against his pickup, arms crossed as he blew out an angry breath. “Katzenberg already got to her. Guess I should’ve seen it coming.”
Why?
“It’s in the rules,” Christian said. “The Pirate Regatta means legit pirate games. Cheating is encouraged, as long as it doesn’t cause a safety issue or do any permanent damage to the boats. No one ever screwed with me and Noah, but now that I’m on the wrong side of Team Katz, it’s a whole different shit storm. The mayor wants his kid to win, so he’ll bribe people like Jess and Big Mike to dock-block us—refuse to sell to us.”
I looked again at the surveyors across the lot. The clipboard guy was pointing at something in the distance, the other one smiling and nodding.
Kirby had said that Christian and Noah always won, but now they were competing against each other. The mayor was bribing local shops to fight us. P&D men were scurrying across the entire town like sand crabs. What chance did we have to win? To save the houses?
Christian must’ve sensed my fear, my disappointment. He grabbed my shoulders, looked into my eyes without flinching. “Elyse, I promise you we’ll beat Noah. This is just a snag. Do you believe me?”
When I didn’t respond, he ran his hands down my arms, grabbed my hands. “I need you to believe me,” he whispered. “We’re not going to lose.”
He wouldn’t look away.
Finally, I nodded.
When he released my hands, I pulled out my notebook and scratched out a message.
Jessica was lying when she said she didn’t have our stuff.
“Bingo,” he said.
I wrote again:
So why didn’t we just buy it anyway? Could she refuse to sell? Is that legal?
“We could’ve done that,” Christian explained. “But games like this are just understood. It’s pirate season, and Jess made it clear that she’s taken sides—Noah’s. I have to accept it, otherwise I’m the dick. A bad loser, you know?”
But aren’t you & Jess friends? I mouthed.
He smirked.
I wrote another note, delivered it with a smirk of my own.
You gave her the “grand tour” on the Vega, then you didn’t call again. Right?
Christian’s eyebrows rose, playfulness returning to his smile. He reached out and closed the notebook in my hands. “Enough questions, Stowaway. Coos Bay should have what we need. Plus, there’s this place I want to show you.” With no further clues but a mischievous glint in his eyes, Christian thumped the roof of the truck. “Hop in.”