Authors: Moore-JamesA
Deeper (2 page)
"I'm Dr.
Martin Ward."
I nodded, because the
name had been offered.
"I'd like to
see about hiring our boat for a rather long time."
"How long
are we talking about, Doctor?"
Ward thought
about that for a few seconds, and while he was thinking, the girl with him
spoke up.
"One month.
Does that sound right to you?"
The first part she aimed at me, the second at
Ward.
He
nodded.
"That sounds almost
perfect."
The look he sent her way
was one of pure gratitude.
"A month?
At this time of year?"
My mind was divided right then.
A big part of me was doing the great math
dance and figuring how far into the black a month of extra cash would put me.
A smaller, but equally vocal part was telling
me that I was dealing with a completely unprepared imbecile who had no idea how
bad the weather could get on the ocean when autumn was creeping in fast.
"Is this
a bad time of year for boating?"
He
looked at me with wide eyes, like maybe he had just realized he'd made some
horrible social blunder.
I half expected
to see him reach down and check his fly.
"Weather
can be tricky, is all.
Sometimes storms
come out of nowhere and linger for a few days."
He nodded his head and looked a little
depressed.
"Doesn't mean it can't
be done, but if you actually want to stay on the water for a whole month,
there're a lot of things to consider by way of supplies."
"Oh, no, not all the time.
We'd want to sleep on land."
Damned if I didn't want to pat him on the top
of his head right then, like a puppy in need of a reward.
"I'm just
warning you that if you want to go fishing every day, some of those days are
going to be a little rough if you don't have your sea legs, and a few of them
are going to be impossible."
He nodded his
head enthusiastically.
"Fair
enough, Captain Joe.
You come highly
recommended; I'll trust you on any decisions about rough weather."
That brought a
smile to my face.
You'd be amazed how
many seemingly intelligent people don't catch on that there are differences in
how a storm affects the land and how it affects a ship on the ocean.
"As long as we understand each other."
"What are
your rates for a month long expedition, Captain?"
That was the girl standing next to him.
I looked at
her and smiled.
The smile was easy.
She was pretty in a very athletic way, and
reminded me just a little of the girl whose name was still stuck on my crab
boat.
Her hair was short, blond, and
curly, and had the sort of color that only comes from being in the sun a lot.
"We can
haggle out the details.
It's the end of
the normal season, which puts me in a mind to be a little generous."
Charlie
laughed and shook his head, his damned grin spreading across his face like a
flash of lightning and then staying there.
The girl
looked his way and frowned slightly.
"You'll
have to forgive Charlie," I said with a smile of my own.
"He's not used to the idea of me being
generous."
I told them what my
normal daily rates were, fully expecting them to turn a dozen different shades
of green.
The thing is, my yacht
requires a lot of upkeep and I like to turn a profit, too.
My summer rates have to pay for the whole
year.
I don't live in
year-round.
I have to make the money
last.
It wasn't Ward
who did the haggling, it was his sidekick.
She put up a good fight, but in the end we came up with a fair and
equitable deal.
"What are
you planning on doing for a month out on the water?
"
Charlie
looked past the couple and studied the mismatched pair who was still standing
on the dock.
I could see why he'd want
to stare; I recognized their faces, but couldn’t decide where I knew them
from.
It wasn't really any of my
business as long as they weren't going to try to use the
Isabella
as a source of illegal income.
Neither of them looked like they were up to
anything riskier than sitting behind desks in a stuffy office and reading a
lot.
The guy looked about ten years
older than me and forty pounds heavier, but not in a good way.
The lady with him looked a good ten years
younger and was probably a looker when she wasn't busy dressing like a
conservative librarian.
No one
answered Charlie's question right away, and that made me a little nervous, but
not overly so.
Still, I was happier when
the girl answered.
"Dr. Ward
is studying rumors about a system of underwater caves not too far from
here.
From everything we've heard this
is the best time of year for actually gaining access to the caves."
"So you
want to go diving?
"
Charlie looked at the girl as
if she'd grown a second set of eyes and they were crossed.
"Is that a
problem?"
"Not if
you don't mind a little cold water..."
Here's the
thing.
It gets cold fast in
The Gulf Stream doesn't even consider coming
up our way and the winds that come down from the
Circle
ocean.
I've had a few occasions where I
managed to get myself properly wet in late October or early November, and
believe me, it's not something I ever wanted to do after the first time.
Hypothermia is a real threat, and anyone who
thinks a dry suit will keep you warm in that sort of chill has never gone
diving into the waters off the coast of
And these people were saying they wanted to
go for swims every day.
We discussed
the matter for a few minutes, just so I could make sure the people who were
about to pay for my Christmas vacation understood exactly what they were
getting themselves into.
I'm not really
fond of the idea of pulling corpses out of the water, especially when the dead
people in question are supposed to pay me a lot of money.
I'm a businessman first when it comes to my
services.
They agreed to sign a waiver
that excluded me and my crew from any liabilities.
They wanted to
go diving, and they were bringing along fifteen college kids to help them with
it.
That would bring their number up to
nineteen, and we added a little more haggling about the cost for feeding them
all.
Two meals a day minimum meant a lot
more food shoved into the larder.
After that, it
was just a matter of working out the details.
You ever hear
that old saying about the devil being in the details?
Well, I'm here to tell you that there is a
lot of truth in that stupid phrase.
More
than I imagined when I met
cronies.
*
*
*
*
*
I was late
coming home from the docks, but Belle was used to that.
Between being a bit anal about how the yacht
looked and the occasional drink with Charlie, it wasn't exactly a news flash.
My wife, being far more adept at changing
than I have ever been, started cooking dinner around the same time I pulled up
in the driveway.
I got lucky
when I met Isabella, We met in college, and had probably a dozen classes
together, ranging from philosophy — a course I never should have taken — to a
few English courses and even a class on marine biology.
I knew it was
lust at first sight.
Love came later,
but when it finally showed up I decided to spend the rest of my life with her
and she was good enough not to have me arrested for stalking her.
She's the only woman I've ever met who could
possibly put up with me, and, as an added bonus, she's a knockout.
She took one
look at my face and knew something was up.
The chances of me ever pulling the wool over her eyes are about the same
as me growing wings.
"What did
you do?"
Her voice was teasing, and
so was the grin on her face.
"I landed
a really big fish."
"Meaning
you went fishing instead of making a living?
Or meaning you made some poor bastard pay you too much?"
Belle stirred a collection of potatoes, meat,
and onions on the stove and my stomach decided to let out a few rude noises to
remind me I hadn't had much beyond breakfast to eat.
"Second choice.
A nice gig.
I get to
run a couple of college types around and watch them freeze their privates
off.
Best of all, they're gonna pay
me."
I wanted to
reach out and hug her, but I knew the rules.
The loving had to wait until she was done at the stove.
She's always had a thing about open flames,
and we had a piece of crap gas stove that I'd planned on having replaced for
the last five or so years.
"How long a run?"
She stirred her concoction again and I moved past her to grab a few
plates and the flatware.
"About a
month, but they want to come in every day."
"A month?"
Her voice raised a few notes higher than usual, and I knew she was
thinking like me, that they had to be nutcases.
"Looks like we'll have a little to sock away for a rainy day
this time around."
"Well, I
won't complain about it."
She moved
over and scraped the potatoes, onions and sausage onto our plates, while I
pulled two Michelob's from the refrigerator.
"You
won't mind not having me here and under your feet every day?"
"Oh,
please.
Now I get to spend extra time
with the milkman every day."
Once
the food was out of her hands and the pan was back on the stove, Isabella slid
into my arms for a proper hug.
There's
little I love more than the feel of that woman against me, her head resting on
my shoulder.
"You
could come with, if you wanted."
"I
might.
Maybe a few days, just to get out
and enjoy the last of the summer."
"Charlie
would love to see you almost as much as me."
"Charlie
would love to see anything female as long as it was in a bathing suit."
"True
enough."
I couldn't help but laugh
because she was dead-on with Charlie and always had been.
He was a heel as far as women went and Belle
had warned him away from a few of her friends in the past.
We sat down to
eat and it was decided.
The job was too
handsome not to take, even if the fools hiring me were in for a few cold and
stormy days.
2
We started off
four days later.
I was ready the next
day, but the group coming along needed more time to prepare, and there was the
matter of the waivers for every one of them.
Fifteen kids, all of legal age except one who needed to
get
permission from his parents.
That took two days by
itself
.
A yacht the size of
Isabella's Dream
requires a few crew members, especially if you
plan on going for extended trips.
And
that, by the way, was a rub I hadn't counted on.
The people who'd hired me wanted to sleep on
land, but that didn't mean they intended to sleep on the same land.
While a few occasions would let me come home
to Belle for my rest the docks at Golden Cove would become my home for much of
the stay.
Golden Cove is
a strange little town, built by a real estate investment firm and then
abandoned only days after it opened to the public.
The original owners were out of the picture
for the most part.
Only a few of them
even came around the place, though it made them a fortune.
It's as pretty
as a postcard, and looks like a little slice of heaven.
Most times you couldn't get me to set foot in
the area.
There were all sorts of rumors
about its past and the bad things that had happened there.
So naturally, I'd been suckered into taking a
small army of people to the waters off the shore and letting them use my
ship.
I'd have been bitter about it if I
hadn't been paid up front.
Having a
handsome sum of money sitting in the bank goes a long way to making me more
forgiving.