Page 28 of On Twisting Tides


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“What business do you have with him? At least help me find my lead.” I forced my voice to calmness.

“Why would I disclose anything to you? I don’t know you. I can’t even see your face.”

“I’m…Samuel…Holland. On behalf of…the Dutch East Trade Company.” I used the first company name I could remember to quickly create my alias. “What business do you have with Daven?”

“Something about the way you’re asking sounds personal. And you seem a little too enthusiastic to hear what I might have to say.”

“Let’s just say I have reasons that carry weight. If it’s money you want in exchange for information, name your price and I’ll get it.”

The man eyed me up and down. “I don’t want your money.” He stood slowly, nearing me as his footsteps made the floor creak. He stood just an inch taller than me, an unusual occurrence given my near six-foot frame. “But you seem like the type to take on a fool’s errand. I might could use a hand for a reckoning that’s long overdue.”

“I’m listening.” My eagerness was getting the better of me. This was my only shot to uncover whatever business my father failed to mention to me.

“There’s a sloop out in the harbor, the Lark.” His voice lowered the longer he spoke. “Her captain’s a shameless bastard who mutinied against me. I retreated and he called it weakness. He made his fortune from my losses. Took half my crew and forced me to rebuild from the bottom of the barrel. Let’s just say I never completely made my peace with that.” He looked bitterly at the hook attachment at the end of his arm where a hand should’ve been.

“And?”

“And a man hiding his face and begging for information seems like the perfect pawn to help me repay the favor.”

“What do you want me to do? Spit it out.” I shifted uneasily from one foot to the other.

“I want you to put that sloop at the bottom of the sea floor. If this storm doesn’t get to it first.”

I hesitated, knowing well who captained the Lark. Carl Thane. He was known for his cruelty to prisoners and sailors alike. I was sure it was him who’d taken this man’s hand. He’d even tried to overtake Nassau a time or two. Before he’d disappear for months at sea. I didn’t mind taking out his ship. But if it went wrong…

“I’ll do it.” My fist clenched and my heart dropped as the words left my mouth. “And in exchange you tell me everything you know about Daven Harrington.”

“You have my word.”

“What good is the word of a pirate?” I raised an eyebrow, remembering the time Katrina had asked me the same thing.

“Worth about as much as the word of a shadowy stranger…Samuel.” He spat out the name with suspicion. “But I’m no pirate. I’m as honest a businessman as there ever was in Nassau. Just with a bit of bad luck.” He winked and raised the hook he wore for a hand, turning it so it caught the light, drawing my attention to the jagged scarring around his slightly exposed wrist.

“Where can I find you once the job’s done?” I uttered under my breath barely above the noise of the tavern chatter.

“I’ll be here each night till I depart in three days.”

“Give me your name.” I knew it was a long shot to ask. But I needed something. I cursed myself for not asking sooner.

“Not part of the agreement, stranger.”

“I gave you mine.”

“And I know you’re lying about it. So, looks like we both just have to have a little faith in each other.” He grinned with a mocking air, revealing a toothy wide mouth that stretched across his broad face.

At least he was memorable. It wouldn’t be terribly difficult to find a hulking one-handed man in these parts I knew like the back of my hand anyway. We shook on it, sealing the deal. Before I could say more, he turned and sat back down, resuming his gambling as though our conversation never happened.

I made my way back to my plate and pint. But the sight of the food turned my stomach. Perhaps the rum had clouded my judgment and boosted my confidence too much. I’d just agreed to sabotage a sloop. Because I wasn’t sure if my father was the man I remembered. And the girl I loved was still missing. And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t have a clue what else to do.

But, whether for better or worse, I had managed to acquire a task to keep me occupied until I figured the rest out. And if everything would go according to the plan I’d already devised in my head, by tomorrow night I’d have sunk Carl Thane’s sloop.

16

By the Wind

Katrina

Throughout the night, I struggled to sleep. The rocking of the ship and the coldness of my wet clothing and hair kept me uncomfortable. Once I was sure Bellamy was asleep, I wandered over to the chest I’d seen him open earlier. I had to find something dry, or I really was going to get sick. I opened the chest to find what I expected—men’s pants and tunics. But I didn’t care. I was so cold.

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