Jack Beale 00 - Dangerous Shoals

else, another voice, in deeper hushed tones said, “York Harbor, next Tuesday. I’ll find you. Take the boat.”
    “Daniel?”
    He heard a click followed by the dial tone.
    “What the …?” he said to himself. As he stood and stared at the phone in his hand he heard the door at the bottom of the stairs open and then close. Cat came bounding up and over the top step just as Max’s voice called out. “Jack, you here?”
    “Upstairs.”
    Max reached the top of the stairs just in time to see him hang up the phone. “Who was that?”
    He looked up. “No one.” His attempt at nonchalance must have failed miserably.
    “Liar,” she said, studying his face.
    Jack felt like a deer in headlights. He knew what was coming. He knew what he should have done. And yet, his first reaction was to attempt to protect her by not being honest and straightforward. He was wrong and he knew it.
    The look on her face said, “Bullshit. What aren’t you telling me?” What she said was, “It was Daniel, wasn’t it?”
    “Yes. How do you do that?”
    “Do what?”
    “Read me the way you do.”
    “What did he say?”
    * * *
    “Well, Danny boy! I guess you and I will be having a little get-together next Tuesday.” A smile came over Kurt’s face as he lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply, and leaned back in his chair.

CHAPTER 38
    MAX WAS HUDDLED BELOW , trying to stay warm while Jack stood alone at the helm. As he guided Irrepressible between the jetties that formed the entrance to Rye Harbor, he noticed that there was but one lone fisherman on the north jetty as he motored past. He was crouched between two rocks with his head tilted down, face obscured by a wide- brimmed hat. He held his rod low with its tip pointing at the water, the line slack. From the intensity of his pose it looked as if he was trying to will a fish onto that slack line as it disappeared into the dark water. He made no discernable movement even as Jack gave him a nod. What Jack couldn’t see was the excitement that the fisherman felt as he watched Irrepressible slip past.
    Jack’s mood was as gray as the day. Overnight a low-pressure system off shore had moved up the coast from the south, bringing leaden skies and the promise of northeast winds making for a cold, wet day. He shivered and hunched down into his foul -weather jacket while pulling its fleece-lined collar tight around his neck. Then he scanned the horizon. Although the calendar said it was summer, it felt more like fall. He turned and glanced back at the dinghy they were towing. Satisfied that it was secure and the painter was the right length, he returned his attention forward. The engine droned on pushing her forward into the almost unseen swells that announced the impending storm.
    Even though there was little wind and as flat as the ocean appeared, Irrepressible ’s bow rose, then fell, and rose again with a steady rhythmic schuuch … schuush … schuuch. That sound and the motion was hypnotic. As they passed the mile buoy, Jack adjusted course and scanned the horizon again. He saw no other boats and his thoughts wandered. “ Why is it that whenever Daniel is involved and we have to go out on the boat, there is no wind? There must be some seafaring superstition about the lack of wind and if there is, it can’t be good.”
    “Jack … Jack.”
    It wasn’t until she repeated his name for the second time that he snapped out of his thoughts. Max, still below, was looking out at him from the companionway. She was wearing her dark green fisherman’s sweater, her curly red hair spilled over her shoulders, and she was holding a mug of something hot.
    Jack smiled as he looked at her. “Sorry, Max.”
    “What are you grinning at? You okay?”
    “Yeah, I’m fine.”
    “So, what’s so funny?
    “Nothing really. It just struck me that here we are in the early summer on a day that looks more like the late fall, all bundled up in our foulies and sweaters. It just doesn’t seem right.”
    She didn’t respond to his explanation. “You want some coffee?
    “Thanks. That would be great.”
    She disappeared from sight, then reappeared, reached out, and placed first one mug of steaming coffee and then a second mug out on the cockpit seat before climbing out herself. She didn’t notice that Jack’s attention was focused more on her than on sailing the boat. Picking up the two steaming mugs, she paused to time her movements with the motion of the boat and moved aft toward Jack. He took a mug