Ahoy! by Maggie Seacroft

Author:Maggie Seacroft [Seacroft, Maggie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-06-04T22:00:00+00:00

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It was a clear night. Ironic really, considering my head was so very unclear with muddled thoughts of Bugsy, Hagen, Cynthia, and Nat. I wrapped up some work emails and stepped out to the stern deck to see what stars the evening sky had to offer me. Tilting my head back, my eyes adjusted and I tried to remember what I’d picked up in my astronomy night course at the SSUO (Sonoma State University Observatory).

When I craned my head forward again and stretched my neck from side to side to get the kinks out, I noticed a flickering light on Nat’s boat.

At first, I thought it was a reflection of the streetlamp on the window of the cabin, but the longer I looked at it, the more I noticed its erratic movement. It’s a flashlight. I quickly ducked inside my boat, grabbed my cell phone from the sofa cushion, and hit Aggie’s name and the phone receiver icon next to it. Through the first two rings, I grumbled impatiently. “C’mon, pick up. Pick up.”

In the distance, I could see the lights on in her store and, after the third ring, the phone went to voicemail. Her outgoing message was belabored since, for the benefit of her relatives, she also included a version in French. “Ags, it’s me. I’m going over to Nat’s boat. I think there is someone on it. Anything happens to me, feed my cat and Pepper.”

I hung up and, in an irritated fashion, tossed the phone back on the sofa, closed the door to my boat, and hopped onto the dock.

The beam of light inside Nat’s boat danced around the salon. If Nat were back he’d surely just flick on the lights. I skulked up the dock and did my best to board the stern deck weightlessly. Once there, I reached for the gaff hook Nat kept in a cubby on the starboard side. A gaff hook, in case you didn’t know, is a pole with a hook on the end. It’s commonly used to assist in landing big sport fish. This one was five feet long, telescoping, and lightweight. The three-inch-thick steel hook on the end is the kicker, though, and it’s what I was counting on to save my butt if need be.

I tiptoed closer. The stern door of the Splendored Thing was wide open, sticking to it a remnant of the yellow police crime scene tape that flapped in the breeze. I could see the flashlight beam flicker a little more as it dodged around forward in the interior of the boat. I took one last look behind me down the dock, hoping in earnest that someone would be out walking on such a nice evening, but there was not a soul. Jack Junior’s boat was close, but all the lights were out and I hadn’t seen him since a brief chat that afternoon when he mentioned something about going to his daughter’s for dinner that evening.

I collected my gumption and bounded through the stern door.

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