Children of the Sea 01 - Sea Witch

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    . .
     
    When his cell phone rang, it was almost a relief. He glanced at the display, his pulse kicking up as he recognized the number of Antonia’s restaurant. Maggie’s shift had ended hours ago, but maybe . . .
     
    “Hunter.”
     
    "Cal, it’s Regina.” Her voice was brisk, but he could hear the worry under it.
     
    He was already swinging the Jeep in the direction of the restaurant.
    “What’s up?”
     
    “Nothing, really. We’re closing, and one of our patrons has had a little too much to drink.”
     
    Had to be something, Caleb reflected. Regina wasn’t rattled easily, and Antonia scared most drunks. “Did you get his keys?”
     
    “First thing,” Regina assured him.
     
    191
    “So?” He was grateful for the distraction. But he wasn’t a damn taxi service.
     
    “He threw them at me,” Regina said. “Broke a couple of bottles. If you could stop by—”
     
    “On my way.”
     
    “The thing is . . .” Her hesitation vibrated over the line. “I don’t want you to think I’m overreacting to some broken glass. But you should know the guy . . .”
     
    Her caginess intensified his sense of something wrong. “What?”
     
    “It’s your father.”
     
    His father.
     
    Caleb’s gut cramped. Of course. Growing up the son of the town drunk should have prepared him.
     
    How many times before Caleb got his driver’s license had Chief Miller brought his father home at closing time? And those nights, humiliating as they were, were better than the mornings when Bart Hunter hadn’t showed up at all, when Caleb stared out his classroom windows hoping Lucy had made it to school, wondering how he would take care of her if their dad never came back.
     
    “On my way,” he repeated.
     
    Bart Hunter stood among the restaurant tables like a fir amid the rocks, bleached by the sun, stripped by the wind and rain, upright only through force of habit and the grace of God.
     
    Caleb felt an old, familiar helplessness rise like bile and bit back a curse.
     
    “You want to press charges?” he asked Regina, who was sweeping up broken glass behind the counter. The rich, fruity aroma of the wine battled with the scent of pine cleaner from the bucket at her feet. The smell made Caleb sick.
     
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    She wiped her hands on her apron. “I want him out of here. I’ll charge him for the wine.”
     
    “The wine, her labor, and a two-hundred-dollar fine,” Caleb told his father.
     
    Bart sneered. “For what? Bad parenting?”
     
    “Disorderly conduct,” Caleb said evenly. “Now get in the Jeep.”
     
    Bart swayed. “I need another drink.”
     
    “Coffee?” Regina suggested.
     
    “No,” said Caleb.
     
    “I want coffee,” Bart said.
     
    Regina looked at Caleb, uncomfortable understanding in her eyes.
    “On the house. You look like you could use it.”
     
    He was fourteen when he figured out pouring coffee down a drunk only produced a wide-awake drunk. But he appreciated the gesture.
    “Fine. Thanks.”
     
    He watched her set the coffee on the counter, watched his father steady the mug with two hands.
     
    Regina followed the direction of his gaze. “I didn’t serve him, I swear,” she said in a lowered voice.
     
    “Who did?”
     
    “He was at the Inn most of the night. They kicked him out, and I cut him off.”
     
    “Appreciate it.”
     
    She shrugged. “No biggie. Stop brooding and drink your coffee.”
     
    He raised his mug.
     
    “How are you sleeping?” Regina asked.
     
    193
    He had nightmares.
     
    He missed Maggie.
     
    This morning he woke up edgy and lonely and raw, and seeing his father like this again wasn’t helping his mood one bit.
     
    He blew on the hot brew, regarding Regina cautiously over the rim.
    “All right.”
     
    “Alone?”
     
    He lifted his eyebrows. “Are you asking? Or offering?” Regina cocked her hip against the counter, crossed her arms over her chest. “You told me to keep an eye out for anybody giving Maggie a hard time.
    You’re not making things easy for her.”
     
    “Is that what she said?”
     
    Regina snorted. “Oh, yeah, she talks to me all the time. Because we’re such close girlfriends.”
     
    “She needs friends,” Caleb said quietly. “She’s all alone right now.”
     
    “So, what’s she doing staying with your sister?”
     
    Good question.
     
    He set his mug down with a snap. “Her choice.”
     
    “That’s right, blame the woman. Bet you hear that all the time.
    ‘Officer, she was asking for