Romance on the Edge 01 - Hooked

he’d found aboard the Double Dippin’.
    “Sonya could be right,” Judd said. “This could be an accident. Some kid having fun with a slingshot.”
    “The other boats were too far away. No kid would have enough power to shoot that distance and break a window,” Garrett said. “Besides, with the other troubles the Savonskis have had, I don’t buy that this latest one is a random accident. I don’t believe in coincidences.”
    “Garrett’s correct,” Skip said. “We need to follow this up. I’ll give a holler over the radio to see where the other boats are that fished around her today. It might take a while to find them now that the fishing period is over.”
    “Damn, I was looking forward to some land time,” Judd said, his tone wistful.
    “Don’t you mean some Davida time,” Skip said with a knowing look.
    “Got that right. If I don’t keep showing up at the cannery every now and then to remind her what a great catch I am, she’s going to go fishing for another man.”
    Garrett didn’t bother telling him that he was better off losing a woman who wouldn’t wait for him. If he did, Judd would probably follow it up with some advice of his own regarding Sonya. Judd had picked up the vibes sweltering between him and Sonya this afternoon. Since Garrett was already confused over his feelings for the woman, he didn’t want to invite more opinions. Pushing thoughts of Sonya aside, he focused on the job.
    They located the Mary Jane first. She was anchored just south of the cannery. The crew was on deck cooking salmon on a Hibachi grill. The sweet, tangy smell caused his stomach to rumble. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten well.
    The crew groaned as Judd informed them they were coming aboard. Some days it was tough doing a job when nobody wanted you around.
    “We ain’t doing nothin’,” hollered one of the men, dressed in sweats, short boots, and a stained sweatshirt. The man badly needed a shower. The stench overpowered the salmon sizzling on the grill and had the added benefit of silencing Garrett’s stomach.
    “Hell, we aren’t even fishing,” added another crewman, similarly dressed and also hygiene-handicapped.
    “We’re just here to ask a few questions concerning the Double Dippin’ ,” Garrett said, taking a step back. How did these guys stand their own stink?
    “Heard Sonya had some trouble,” Stained Sweatshirt said. “Was she hurt bad?”
    “Bad enough,” Garrett replied.
    “Pretty girl like that should be home making babies, you know what I mean?” He made an insulting hip thrust that had the two other guys hooting
    Garrett clenched his fists. Judd took a step forward, grabbing the guy’s attention. “Any information you can give us would be helpful.”
    “Don’t have much to tell ya. We were fishing. Heard the news after it had all gone down.”
    “Who informed you?”
    Stained Sweatshirt turned to the third crewman aboard, who was keeping an eye on the smoking salmon. “Ringo, where’d you hear the news about the Double D ?”
    “Davida at the General Store.”
    Judd turned to Garrett, and his raised brow seemed to say they should have started their questioning there. They finished their interrogation, getting names, times, and places. Garrett knew in his gut that these guys didn’t know anything. It was a relief to get off their boat and take a deep breath of clean air.
    They tracked down the Intrepid next with pretty much the same results. Treat, the Captain of the Miss Julie II, pointed them in the direction that Garrett had wanted to start with.
    Chuck Kendrick.
    Treat was the first fisherman to regard them as less than fish slime. He was a fit, observant man, around Garrett’s age with a shrewdness about him Garrett immediately connected with.
    “Sonya’s a fine fisherman,” Treat said, hooking his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans. “I hated hearing that she was hurt today. She going to be okay?”
    “Sore for a while,” Garrett answered steering the subject back to Kendrick. Recalling images of Sonya hurting and bleeding impaired his ability to do his job. “Tell me why you think Kendrick had a hand in this?”
    “It’s something sneaky the asshole would get off on. Saw Sonya cork off the Albatross the first day of fishing. That woman has balls.” He chuckled, the sound full of admiration. “It was only a matter of time before Kendrick got back at her for it.”
    Kendrick’s threat of payback seemed to keep most afraid to