Page 58 of Untamed Coast

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Lady Melinda—Eliason Harbor, Sitka, AK

1982—Anya Baron

Anya stepped aboard Lady Melinda and into the salon.

Musk. Men’s cologne—Galley. Gun.

She opened the second drawer next to the stove.

Lady Melinda rocked.

Someone’s onboard.

Anya pushed a dish towel aside and felt the cold, smooth comfort of the Smith & Wesson 357 Magnum grip.

Shadow.

Something darkened the doorway behind her.

She pulled the hammer back two clicks as she pivoted and raised the weapon.

A silhouette stood stoically at the threshold.

She flicked on the lights with her left hand and leveled her revolver at a spot mid-chest on the tall lanky man. “I’m gonna need you to back up right now and get yourself off my boat.” Anya guessed him to be about seventy, with city-slicked gray hair, a smart suit, freshly shined shoes, and a formidable handlebar mustache.

“You look real at ease with that piece.” His voice was deep, calm, and unfazed.

Anya aligned the bead on the barrel of the pistol with the man’s beakish nose. “Don’t be surprised that an Alaskan woman knows how to use a firearm. I won’t hesitate. This is my boat, and you, sir, are trespassing.”

The stranger didn’t budge. “My apologies. I should have asked permission before boarding. I have some business to discuss with you, Mrs. Baron.”

Anya’s spine stiffened. “How do you know…? Get off my boat. Now!”

The man took a small step forward. “I represent Gateway Arch Development from St. Louis. Name’s Thomas. Do me a favor and set that firearm down, Anya. Ain’t here to cause you trouble.”

“If you have business, please deal with my lawyer. You are not welcome aboard my vessel.” Anya took a step forward to show she was not afraid. She let her breath out slowly to maintain calm. When she inhaled, she caught a whiff of the man’s cologne, again.

“Were you onboard before I got here?” She already knew the answer.

Another small step toward her. “Once more, I’m sorry for the intrusion. The situation was…Please, ease up on the gun. I reckon you’ll see it’s not loaded. Had to ensure our safety. We gotta have a talk.”

Bluffing.

“My patience is running out. You need to…”

Thomas stepped through the doorway, toward her.

Anya pointed the gun to the hatch above his head and squeezed the trigger.

Click.

Not bluffing.

Thomas turned and closed the door behind him. “If you don’t mind, can we sit down and talk? Got a mighty lucrative proposition for ya.”

The gun grew heavy in her hand.