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“Beth, the first thing you need to do is calm down.”
“Easier said than done,” she retorted, running her fingers through her long golden hair.
“Have a drink and gather your thoughts,” he suggested, splashing a good amount into a glass and handing it to her, “then tell me what’s going on, but calmly.”
“Okay, thanks,” she murmured gratefully, lifting it to her lips. “I’m sorry. You must think I’m crazy.”
“Not at all, women jump on my boat and ask me to sail off with them all the time,” he quipped with a chuckle, hoping a little levity might help to settle her nerves.
“Really? Where do you take them?”
“It depends on the wind and currents—and my mood. What’s with your hair, or is it a wig?”
“Uh, yeah,” she replied, taking another drink.
“Are you ready to tell me what’s up? I can’t help you if I don’t know.”
“I want to tell you, but if I do—”
“You’d have to kill me?”
“I wish I could laugh, but this is serious. If you help me and something goes wrong you could end up in a lot of trouble—or worse. I don’t want that to happen.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“With the law,” she said, lowering her voice, “and worse is, uh—”
“Dealing with whoever is chasing you?”
“Yeah.”
“Then why are you here talking to me?”
“I was looking for someone who might let me charter them right away. I knew it was a long shot—but then I saw you. I guess I didn’t think it through, not really. I just needed to get off that wharf. Sorry, my mind is going in a million different directions. Scott, the bottom line is, I need to disappear, at least for a little while, and it’s better if I don’t tell you why.”
“That won’t cut it,” he said solemnly, “and I also want to know why you disappeared six months ago.”
“Shit,” she groaned, sitting back down and swallowing the last of her vodka. “I promise I’ve done nothing wrong, but a bad guy is trying to make it seem like I have. I need time to figure out what to do before he catches up with me. And he works for some awful people. They’re after me too. It’s just a big, complicated mess. Like I said, I have to disappear.”
“How much time are we talking about?”
“I’m not even sure. I’ve been on the move and I can’t think straight.”
“What do you mean, on the move?”
“I rented a cottage on the beach. When I came back the other day I noticed the door was slightly open, and I know I’d locked it. I risked looking through a window, and I saw him. I kept a bag hidden outside just in case something like this happened. I grabbed it and took off, but I’ve been terrified of showing my face anywhere. Walking down the dock just now, I was freaking out.”
As the story had tumbled from her lips, her voice had cracked. The difficult, stubborn, independent young woman was vulnerable and close to tears.
“Can I at least pay you to stay overnight?” she continued. “I’m desperate for some sleep.”
The sun was already setting, and he wouldn’t deny her a bunk, but he needed a minute to process what was happening. Picking up his beer, he took a swig.
“Scott, please…?”
“You can use your old cabin below,” he began, “but if you expect me to weigh anchor and sail you out of trouble, I need to know why you took off without a word six months ago, who’s chasing you now, and what’s behind it. And Beth, if you decide to tell me, I want the truth—all of it,” he added sternly. “No bullshit. You can give me your answer in the morning.”
“Thank you, really, thank you,” she murmured earnestly, slowly rising to her feet.
