Port Starbird (Storm Ketchum Adventures) (18 page)

"Thanks, Ketch, that's right nice of y'all!" Len said.

After he'd finally gotten them off on their errands, Ketch got the dog settled inside. It was too hot now to leave him in the truck. Who to talk to first? He stowed the laptop in his backpack and decided to head over to the shop. He figured he'd have time enough to quickly show Kari what he'd found in that picture and stop at Subway before Len and Mario returned.

Kari was glad to see him, but she actually had a customer for a change. She was able to wrap that up in just a few minutes
. Ketch, fidgety as he was, decided to use the time to give the Captain a quick call on his cell phone. Good, now that was done.

"Well hey, this is a pleasant surprise!" she said with a
n easy smile when the customer was exiting. "To what do I owe the honor? How come you're not out detectin' somethin'? Gallant knight, have you come to take me away from all this?"

"Sorry, but
no, not today. I can't stay long, I've got Len and Mario working at the house," he said as he booted the laptop on the counter. "I found something interesting that I wanted to show you, and I decided I couldn't wait until later. Come on, you dog," he said to the laptop. "I have a theory, and I want to know what you think about it. The Captain, too, I called him and asked him to meet us at the bar at the Froggy Dog later. Is that okay with you? Oh, good, here it comes, finally..."

"My goodness,
you're just jabberin' away there, what in the world are y'all so hopped up about?" she asked, looking over his shoulder at the screen. "Is that the pictures you took this week?"

"Yes," he said, and
then proceeded to show her what he'd found and told her what he thought it might mean. "So, what do you think?"

"
Oh wow... Do you really think?" she said. "That's... I don't know..."

Ketch saw that her face had
turned pale. "Are you all right?" he asked. "Are you going to be sick? Should I get you a chair?"

"
I... No, thanks, I'll be okay. Maybe it was somethin' I ate, maybe there was somethin' wrong with that breakfast sandwich, I don't know, I been feelin' funny this mornin'." She took a deep breath. "Well, that's an interestin' theory. Did you send in your report on those drums yet?"

"Yes, why?"

"Well then, when the Coast Guard or whoever checks that out and salvages those drums, they'll find out the answer then, I guess, won't they?"

"
Probably, assuming they'll do all that. But who knows how long that will take?" Conscious of her discomfort, he tried to rein in his enthusiasm as much as possible, but he wasn't entirely successful. "How many lift bags do you have here? I'd like to buy some."

"Lift bags?
Yes, I have some, but why? Are you thinkin' 'bout tryin' to raise that drum?"

"Yes! Don't you see
? If Ingram's wife is in that drum, there could be DNA evidence. They could put him away for good with that, and then no more development! We'd be able to save not only
Port Starbird
, but also the boatyard and all the other properties that crook has tried to bully people into giving him!"

"Well," she said, still somewhat nonplussed, "that's certainly a
noble thought. And if it's true? Wow. But what if it is her? Wouldn't it be a bad thing for us to tamper with the evidence? Maybe it wouldn't be admissible then."

"We wouldn't have to tamper with it. We can bring the drum to the surface, stabilize it,
and crack open the lid just enough to take a peek inside. If it's what we think it is, we close the lid and radio the Coast Guard to come and get it. If it isn't, we just drop it back down to where it came from and go home."

"Huh. Well, I still don't know..." She considered for a moment. "You said Don's gonna meet us after work? How 'bout we wait and see what he thinks?"

"That's the plan," Ketch said. "Meanwhile, I've got to get going, I promised Len and Mario lunch from Subway." He drew her to him for a quick hug, and tried to inject a little levity into things. "Hey, you should be glad I'm listening to you, and not running right out there and doing it by myself again, right?"

"True," she said
, extricating herself with a wan smile. "Okay then, come pick me up later when it's time."

"Right, see you
then!" Ketch said as he stuffed the laptop into the backpack. "I hope you feel better soon," he called as he headed out the door.

On the way back from the Subway, he started to wonder whether he should have Len and Mario continue with their work or not. If Ingram's plans were finally scuttled, he wouldn't be needing those blocks after all. But then his
new-found pragmatism asserted itself, and he decided he should proceed with his original plan. It wouldn't do to jump the gun, get disappointed somehow, and then be left in the lurch. Any number of things could go wrong - his theory might not pan out, Ingram could find some way to get himself off the hook even if it did, someone else could continue the development project... He'd certainly been burned before when he'd gotten his hopes up - most recently, just yesterday morning, for example. Had that only been yesterday? He again had the feeling he'd been caught in some kind of time warp this past week, so much had happened in such a short time...

Surprisingly, when he got back to the house Len and Mario were there and unloading their truck. There was also a bike leaning against the railing, and a boy sitting on the front steps. "Hello, Henry," Ketch called from his truck as he gathered up his backpack and the Subway bags.

"Hey, Mister Ketchum," the boy replied. "Y'all need a hand with that stuff?"

"Yes, thank you." Ketch passed the bags to him. "What brings you around today, Henry?"

"I was just passin' by and I saw these guys cartin' stuff out of their truck. You doin' some work on the house?"

"Well, they are. I'm not doing much of it myself. Thanks for doing such a good job with the mowing, by the way."

"You're welcome. I can do it again next time too if you want. Say, do you think I could help those fellas out with whatever they're doin'?"

"I don't know. We could ask them. Would you like to have lunch
with us? You could have half of my sub and some chips, I'm not all that hungry."

"Sure, that'd be great - thanks! I'll just call my mama quick, so she doesn't get to worryin'. You want these bags in the kitchen?"

Once the dog had gotten over his ecstasy at having more company, Ketch had Henry set out some plates while he himself handled the beverages. Len and Mario came in soon after and Ketch introduced Henry to them. While they ate in air-conditioned comfort, with the dog lying on the floor in a strategic position to facilitate possible handouts, it was decided that Henry could serve as gofer on the upcoming job. They didn't really need a gofer, but Len and Mario both implicitly understood that Ketch liked this boy and wanted to help him out, and they were agreeable.

It would cost him a few more bucks, but so what. Ketch figured it was a small price to pay. It seemed to him there were too few youngsters these days with Henry's mettle, and he wanted to encourage the boy. He was aware that part of his motivation was
also that Henry reminded him of his own son - or at least, of the way he chose to remember his son. He didn't have any idea what his son was like now; he supposed he should try to do something about that one of these days.

He decided he'd watch the
hired help work for a while after lunch, to make sure everything went okay, and then get himself cleaned up and gather some laundry. He hadn't had time to do any all week and the immediate future didn't look promising that way either, so he'd drop a couple of bags off at the service he occasionally used. He certainly didn't have time right now to sit around the house doing laundry all day, even if he'd felt like doing that in the first place. But he guessed he should at least change the bed sheets while he was at it, so he'd do that, too. Oh, and he should check his e-mail, he remembered.

Then
perhaps he'd go back to the shop a little early. Maybe he could help out some there, fill some tanks or something. He'd be needing some for himself anyway come Sunday, assuming he got his way tonight.

~  ~  ~

Len and Mario appeared to have developed a workable process for installing the foam blocks. They'd cut some wood, put up a couple of crossbeams, and managed to get one block installed. They'd decided to call it a day at that point, since it was Friday and Happy Hour was approaching, and had promised to come back 'early' (or their definition of it, anyway) Saturday morning to continue the work. Henry was also planning on returning, after he was finished with his paper route.

Having
paid them all off, fed the dog an early dinner, and dropped off the laundry bags, Ketch was now on his way back to the shop. He hoped Kari was feeling better by now. Had there been something wrong with the food from the pier? He'd never had a problem himself there, including today. Maybe she'd picked up some kind of bug. She couldn't be pregnant; she'd said she couldn't have children, and neither could he anymore after a minor elective surgery years ago, so they were doubly insured that way - which was fine with him, as the dog was responsibility enough for him at this stage of his life.

Speaking of
which, he should do something fun with the poor little guy tomorrow; he hadn't been spending enough time with him lately. The Captain's boat was spoken for due to his dive charter, and Kari shouldn't close the shop to accompany him to the dump site anyway; she could use the Saturday business, such as it was around here, so he knew he'd have to wait until Sunday. Despite Kari's peculiar reaction at the shop, he was sure he could convince both of them to help him do what he knew he needed to do then, and was not considering alternatives.

In spite of his impatience at the delay, h
e recalled thinking earlier this week that he'd like to hike the trails again in the maritime forest of Buxton Woods. He knew the dog would enjoy that, too, and would have access to the water there as well. Maybe they could do that in the morning and then spend the afternoon at the shop with Kari, while his coolies slaved away with the foam blocks. The dog liked going to the shop as well, and Ketch could line up the gear they'd need for Sunday.

H
e'd remembered to check his e-mail before leaving the house. He'd found one from the NRC as promised, but it was just an automated response saying they'd received his report and giving him his report number. Nothing about sending in the pictures yet. Since the weekend was coming up, he supposed he might not hear more until next week. Well, it was a start anyway. Maybe his photo would turn out to be the icing on that particular cake.

He pulled into the parking lot at the shop just as another pickup was pulling out. He didn't see who was driving, but he didn't need to
- he recognized the truck.

"
Well hey!" Kari said with a startled look on her face as he entered the shop. "You're early."

"Yes. Things went well at the house this afternoon and they've knocked off for the day, so I thought I'd drop by and help you out here if I could.
Is there anything you'd like me to do?"

"Hmm, I don't know, let me think," she said, somewhat distractedly it seemed to him. "Oh hey, I almost forgot somethin' - come over here, you!"

When he did, she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a long hug. "Was that Mick I saw leaving when I came in?" he calmly inquired.

She disengaged and started to blush. "Yeah, 'fraid so. But don't worry, it doesn't mean anythin'."

"No? Well, what did he want?"

She
hesitated for a moment, then exhaled loudly. "He wanted to borrow some money from me, can you believe that? I mean, the nerve - I hadn't seen him in forever, and like I said he never called, and now he wants money. Like I have any anyway. Can you believe it? I told him to shove off."

He'd gotten to know her considerably better over this past week, and what she was saying didn't quite ring true to him. He recalled the questions he'd been asking himself about her earlier in the week, many of which had still not been answered. Was this why she was staying at his house, to avoid Mick? But she was still going to the shop, and Mick
obviously knew he could find her there, so maybe not. But was this why she'd been so relieved when Ketch had given her that money for his upcoming (someday) solo diving class? Was Mick threatening her somehow?

He gave her a good long look. There
would come a day when his patience would run out - but it didn't have to be today. She looked stressed and he didn't want to add to that, so he decided to continue to let things ride for now. There may also come a day when she'd decide on her own to be more forthcoming, he thought; and given everything that had happened this past week, he supposed he should grant her a decent grace period. He hoped he wouldn't regret this decision; but there it was.

"So anyway," she went on, "you don't have to be jealous, there's nothin' goin' on
that way, I promise. Like I told you before, I'm long done with him."

"I trust you
," he said, though meaning only in 'that way'. "And if you ever need my help with anything, I hope you'll trust me as well." She still looked a bit flustered, so he added with a friendly smile, "Well, at least you've got some color now. I take it you're feeling better?"

"Yes I am, and thank you for askin'," she said, looking up at him appraisingly. "You're a good man, you know that?
" He didn't know for sure about that, as a matter of fact, but he didn't say so. "Hey, look," she said, "why don't we close up early and go on over to the bar? It's close enough to quittin' time, and there isn't really anythin' here that needs doin' right this minute." He allowed as how that sounded like a right fine idea, and she laughed at his clumsy attempt at Southernese. "Please don't do that again," she joked, "it makes me downright cringe, I kid you not!"

"I know, it's hopeless. And even if I took lessons, I don't think I could ever leave the 'h' out of 'shrimp' like you people do
. I just can't wrap my mind around that concept."

Since it was Friday and Happy Hour to boot, the lot at the Froggy Dog was just about full. They had to scout around some for a
parking spot, but they managed to luck into a table for four in the Groggy Pub. Ketch ordered a pint and a bottle of wine.

"By the way, I haven't had time to do laundry lately, as you now know," he said, and was rewarded with an eye roll. "So I turned our worn clothes in to my laundry service. I hope you don't mind. They're good, and they follow the cleaning directions on the labels. They'll probably be done on Monday."

"That's fine, and thanks for doin' that. I doubt they could do much harm to what I been wearin' this week anyway - or not wearin', half the time it seems." The drinks arrived, and Ketch poured her a glass of wine. "You know, you're spoilin' me so much I might never want to leave. Down the hatch!"

"I just love this
place!" she reiterated after draining her first glass. "And this is the second time this week I've been here!"

"Well, don't get too used to it," Ketch advised her. "This has been an unusual week. I don't generally eat out
as often as I have this week."

"
Oh, come on! We could come here once a week anyway, couldn't we? Maybe we don't always have to eat, that'd save some money. Oh look, there's Joette. Hey Joette!" she called, waving a hand in the air.

Joette joined them at the table
and occupied the fourth chair, Ketch's backpack having been placed on the third one. "Hey, Ketch!" she said, giving him a once-over. "Y'all doin' okay?"

"Yes, thank you," he sheepishly acknowledged. "No permanent damage."

"Well, that's good. Hey, have I got some scuttlebutt for you-all! Guess what happened at work this afternoon? You know how they been talkin' on the news the last couple days 'bout a retrial for Bob, 'bout his wife that disappeared I mean, on account of there's rumors 'bout some kind of new evidence?" Ketch and Kari glanced at each other in confusion. "Hadn't y'all heard 'bout that?" Joette asked in disbelief.

"No, I haven't been reading the paper much this week, and I haven't turned on the TV all week," Ketch said. "Me neither," Kari added, "I guess we were just too busy."

"Huh, how 'bout that?" Joette said. "Well, that's why he was in such a bad mood when you came to see him yesterday, Ketch. Seems they found some more blood traces somewhere, or somethin' like that. He's been talkin' to his lawyers, and also his backers. From what I heard, it sounds like they're havin' second thoughts 'bout investin' in the marina development."

"He has backers?" Ketch asked.

"Oh yeah, I mean he's got money, everybody knows that, but not enough to do all that all by himself. So the marina might have to be put on hold. And I'll tell you what, I'm thinkin' it probly won't happen at all, 'cause guess what! Some police officers showed up at our place not but two hours ago, and they told him he has to surrender himself first thing Monday mornin'!"

Ketch felt like he
imagined he might if he'd grabbed onto a live wire. Was he dreaming? He considered asking Kari to pinch him. "So that's why he told me I might have to stand in line," he said.

"Huh?" Joette said.

"Wow! Hey, do you know if you'll still have a job?" Kari broke in, saving Ketch from having to explain his remark. Thank you Kari, he thought; she must have remembered his desire to avoid spreading that part of his story around.

"
Well I don't know, I hope so," Joette said. "Maybe I should start lookin' around."

"Hey y'all!" the Captain's voice blared at them from behind a nearby waitress, who almost lost the tray she was carrying. "Hey, foxy lady, how you been?" he said to Joette. Seeing that all the chairs were taken, he swiped an empty one from another table without asking and dragged it over. "Am I late? What did I miss
- besides the beer?" He regained the attention of the startled waitress and bellowed, "Ahoy there darlin', bring us two more a whatever he's got, if you please!"

"Joette was just tellin' us that Bob Ingram is gettin' arrested," Kari informed him.

"You don't say! I heard somethin' 'bout that just this mornin'. So they're really gonna retry him, huh? I'll be damned... Ain't that somethin', Ketch?" he said, casting Ketch a sly look. "Gimme the scoop, Jo, and don't leave nothin' out!"

While Joette repeated her tale, Ketch excused hi
mself to go to the rest room, and almost chose the wrong door. He thought he might be in a mild state of shock. The extent of the relief he suddenly felt made him realize just how much of a strain he'd been under lately. Were his troubles really over at last? It seemed too good to be true - but being the optimist that he was (not), he figured he'd still better hedge his bets. If anything, investigating the contents of that salvage drum now seemed even more urgent to him. If there was any doubt about how that retrial might turn out, he could erase that doubt if he was right.

When he returned to the table, Joette was gone. "Well, ho
w 'bout that?" the Captain said to Ketch. "Between this and nailin' him for dumpin' toxic waste, sounds like you might be out a the woods after all."

"We'll see," Ketch said. "Let me show you the reason why I asked you to come here." He set his laptop on the table and started to fill the Captain in while it booted up. Kari
sipped silently at her wine while he showed the Captain the picture and explained his theory, including what he thought it might all mean in light of Joette's news.

"Well," the Captain ruminated, "seems like a stretch to me
- but it could be, who knows? It's as good a theory as anybody else ever come up with. You gonna call the Guard?"

"No, not right away
. I don't want to embarrass myself and waste their time if it turns out to be nothing," Ketch said. "Captain, I know you're busy tomorrow, so I want to hire your boat on Sunday. I want to go out there and raise that drum and see what's in it. If it's what I think it is, then I'll radio the Coast Guard."

"You and who else?" the Captain asked. "I don't dive
- and I wouldn't leave my boat unmanned even if I did, unlike this other dang fool I know."

Kari finally spoke. "I can go. I usually close the shop around noon on Sundays. We can go after that."

"Are you sure?" Ketch said, carefully watching her. This was a rhetorical question to him; she had to go, and he would have tried to make her see that if she hadn't seen it on her own. She seemed to be reacting to all this better so far than she had at the shop earlier - unless that truly had been due to some kind of illness. "That would be a big help. I don't have much experience with lift bags."

"That's right, you don't," she said. "And you also haven't take
n that class yet, mister solo diver, so you're not gonna do that again on my watch," she sternly added, but with a tempering smile. "I think you should come to the shop tomorrow mornin' so we can do some plannin'. If we have to shop for somethin', it'd be better to do that tomorrow since the day after is Sunday."

"Well
okay, I'm game," the Captain said. "And don't be talkin' 'bout hirin' the boat, just chip in for the gas and let me do some fishin' on the way back and I'll be happy. And oh, hey - what you gonna do with them floats now?"

Ketch had already decided about that, so this answer was easy. "I'm going to install them anyway. Who knows what'll end up happening? I don't want to count my chickens. That way, I'll be covered if Ingram is still able to
go on somehow, and if another one just like him comes along someday. Besides, what else would I do with them? I doubt I can return them, and I'd have to sell them dirt cheap on eBay or whatever."