Killer Storm: The Fin Fleming Scuba Diving Series by Sharon Ward

Author:Sharon Ward [Ward, Sharon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penster Press
Published: 2022-11-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Jet Skis

Back at home, I worked on my Ecosphere column until nearly midnight. I pushed send with only about three minutes to spare if I were going to keep my promise to have it to Genevra by the end of the day. Then I tumbled into my bed and slept soundly through the night.

I was awakened before sunrise by a scratching sound on my sliding patio door. For the last few weeks, Chico, my next door neighbor’s free-range pet rooster had been coming over before dawn for a handout. I’d made the mistake of giving him a handful of seeds one day when he’d been pecking listlessly at the dirt in my front yard. Since then, he wouldn’t even crow in the dawn until I gave him a handful of seeds. He’d seemed forlorn that day, but now it was apparent he felt like I owed him a handout, and he came over every morning to collect his reward. I had no idea what he did on the days I slept at Newton’s or on the Tranquility.

Sighing at the loss of those last few minutes of sleep, I rose to give Chico his seeds. He gobbled them up and left without a thank you. A few minutes later, I heard him crowing loudly, heralding the dawn. At least I wouldn’t be the only one getting up at sunrise.

I rushed through my morning routine so I could get to the office early. I was dragging with exhaustion, and not looking forward to a long day of desk work.

When Benjamin came in bearing coffee at six fifteen, I thanked my lucky stars Maddy had hired him a few years ago. He was a terrific co-worker and an extremely good friend. He was even a perfect boyfriend—sweet and undemanding. RIO—and I—were both lucky he was around.

“Drink up,” he said. “I have a surprise for you.” He was practically vibrating with excitement.

I couldn’t imagine what could have made him so happy this early in the morning, but I obediently drank my coffee. “Done,” I said after a few steaming swallows. “What’s up?”

“It’s outside,” he said. “Come see.”

We walked down the long hall and through the rear door next to Maddy’s office. When I stepped outside, it was disheartening to see the usually pristine back lawn was still almost entirely bare dirt, even though the debris had been cleared away. What was left of the white crushed shells had been washed and placed back on the paths that led to the dive shop, the main dock, and the shore dive entry point, but we’d lost so many of the shells to wind and erosion the paths looked skimpy and unkempt.

Benjamin and I ambled down the path, but I was distraught by the sorry condition of RIO’s once beautiful grounds, so I didn’t notice the twin canvas-covered mounds sitting side-by-side next to a pile of landscaping supplies near the ocean’s edge.

When we stopped in front of the two tarps, Benjamin was practically jumping out of his skin.

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