Swim Deep - Page 54

“Yeah. He’s a good guy. Very thorough. Trustworthy. But that’s the thing. Keith is off today. He texted me this morning that his seven-year-old fell off the jungle gym at the park and broke his arm and nose.”

“Ouch. Poor kid. But still—you said Keith is trustworthy. He’d only hire good guys for his crew, do background checks, the works. I’ll be fine, Evan. You should go now. You’re already going to be hitting evening traffic as it is.”

I thought I’d convinced him when he stood. But it seemed that between getting his suitcase and finishing up a few things in his office, he still was there by the time Valeria arrived. Once she was there, he suddenly was raring to get on the road. I wasn’t fooled. He’d hung around intentionally until Valeria came.

“I’ll text you just as soon as I get to the condo,” he said as we stood next to the car. “Don’t forget to set the security system just as soon as—”

“The construction crew leaves and Valeria and I are in for the night. I know, Evan. Stop worrying, and just drive safely,” I insisted, going up on my toes to kiss him. He opened his hands at my waist and pulled me closer.

What began as a short goodbye kiss grew steamy. Hungry.

“You’re not making it easy, Evan,” I panted softly a moment later as he ran kisses along my temple. He nuzzled me with his nose and I tilted my mouth up again.

“Maybe I don’t want you to think it’s easy, separating from me,” he said gruffly. He gave me one last kiss; it was swift, hard, and guaranteed to make me bereft when he moved away a few seconds later.

It felt like a hole slowly opened up in my chest as I watched him drive away.

I suspected he’d been teasing me about not wanting to make our separations easy. But if he had wanted to make this hard on me, he’d succeeded in spades.

Valeria and I spent a productive afternoon. We inventoried the storage contents of the boathouse, and made a big pile of things to throw away. Valeria did a thorough check of all the scuba equipment.

During our search of the boathouse, we discovered four different sets of keys in a box, each of them with a tag and boat description on it, like Cuddy Cabin, Cruiser, and Speed.

One set merely said, The Survivor.

An uncontrollable shiver passed through me upon seeing the name of Elizabeth’s boat. It again struck me as especially sad… tragic, that she’d chosen that name.

“Should we take some of the boats out, to see what kind of condition they’re in?” Valeria asked me.

“Sure,” I replied, because I didn’t know what else to say. I imagined what I’d do when we came upon Elizabeth’s wooden sailboat. Did I want to walk the boards where her bare feet had passed? Did I need to see the last things she’d witnessed before she’d gone overboard into the deep, cold waters?

I honestly didn’t know if I was attracted to or repelled by the idea.

Nevertheless, I left the storage facility with Valeria to inspect the boats. We followed the dock to the covered boat slip.

I felt self-conscious walking out on the dock, just like I had earlier when we approached the boathouse from the beach. Truthfully, I hadn’t been able to forget Noah Madaster the entire time we were at the boathouse, even when we were behind the closed door. I wondered if Wes had given him the message about the boathouse and its contents being allocated to Evan’s property. And if Wes had told him, had the information calmed Madaster, or upset him even more?

Whatever the case, there were no incidents coming from the South Twin that afternoon. All was quiet. The big, brooding mansion might have been as deserted as we’d once believed it to be.

When we entered the boat slip, I had my answer as to whether or not I was morbidly curious or disgusted by the idea of getting on Elizabeth’s boat. Only the three motor craft were moored side by side. The fourth birth rem

ained empty. I heaved a sigh of relief.

I wondered if her boat had been sold, and if so, by whom? Did Evan even realize Elizabeth’s boat was absent? Surely he did, since he said the boathouse and its contents had been allocated to him. Although Madaster hadn’t known that. I thought of the men hauling out the scuba equipment, mostly likely at Madaster’s request. I doubted he’d have any compunction about selling or destroying his daughter’s boat, no matter to whom it legally belonged.

We found that all three of the crafts had gas in them and were ready to use. I was comfortable piloting the cuddy cabin and the speedboat. My parents had owned a summer cabin on a lake in downstate Illinois, and we’d gone there during summers for most of my childhood. Jessica and I were both proficient at driving a speedboat. But I felt less certain about the enormous cruiser, which contained two berths, a galley and large lounging and dining area. Valeria took over for the cruiser’s test run. I was comforted to see how confident and easy she was, piloting the big boat with all the complicated looking controls.

“Ever since we were fifteen or sixteen, my brother and I both worked at the local resort’s dock during the summers,” she explained from behind the wheel of the cruiser as we glided along the cerulean blue Tahoe waters. “We valeted people to the resort once they’d buoyed their boats, but they used to pay us to get their boats out of dry dock and into the water, as well. They’d give great tips,” Valeria said with a grin and a wink.

It was such a gorgeous afternoon, we decided to take the cruiser for a longer ride. I laid out on the deck as Valeria drove, soaking in the amazing views and hot sun.

“Doesn’t Evan like to go out on the boats?” Valeria asked me later as we walked along the beach toward the North Twin. She noticed my sideways glance. “I just asked because you didn’t seem to know anything about the boats, before we went out there today. I would have thought you and Evan went out on them regularly.”

“I don’t know why we haven’t for sure,” I said, frowning. “Evan loves yachting and diving. A friend of ours from San Francisco—Tommy—and he used to crew together on a yacht. But Evan’s first wife died in a boating accident, here at Tahoe,” I admitted slowly.

“Wes mentioned something about that. That’s so sad. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t go out to the boathouse much.”

“Maybe,” I said doubtfully.

Tags: Beth Kery Romance
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