Stolen Child (Coastal Fury Book 13), Matt Lincoln [ebooks children's books free TXT] 📗

Stolen Child

Coastal Fury book 13

Matt Lincoln

Contents

Prologue

1. Nina

2. Ethan

3. Ethan

4. Ethan

5. Ethan

6. Ethan

7. Ethan

8. Ethan

9. Ethan

10. Ethan

11. Nina

12. Ethan

13. Ethan

14. Ethan

15. Ethan

16. Ethan

17. Ethan

18. Ethan

19. Ethan

20. Ethan

21. Ethan

22. Ethan

23. Ethan

24. Nina

25. Ethan

26. Ethan

27. Nina

28. Ethan

29. Ethan

Epilogue

Author’s Note

Prologue

It had been only three days after my gaggle of fans’ last trip to my bar to hear one of my stories from my MBLIS career when Mike, the bar’s former owner, walked in to pay me a visit.

“Fancy seeing you around here,” I grinned at him as he made his way over to where I was wiping down a booth and slid into a seat. “I thought I bought this place off you.”

“And look what a dump you’ve turned it into!” he cried, spreading his arms wide to indicate the whole of the bar, which was stocked full of old nautical memorabilia. “Tacky, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t,” I quipped back as I slung the bar rag over my shoulder, though I knew that my old friend was just ribbing me. “Besides, it’s way less tacky than the way it looked when you ran the place.”

This was, by all accounts except Mike’s own, very true. Back then, my bar was known as “Mike’s Tropical Tango Hut,” and he’d decked it out in all manner of Hawaiian tiki gear. I’d never liked it, though my MBLIS partner Holm and I had still spent more than a little time there because Mike himself was such good company. A former federal officer himself, Mike always knew what to say to us after a long workday or a particularly tough case.

“C’mon, you wouldn’t have spent so much time here if you didn’t like it,” Mike protested, flashing me a grin.

“Oh no, that couldn’t have had anything to do with the company,” I laughed, clapping him on the shoulder approvingly. “It had to be all those damn coconuts. That was the real draw.”

Mike rolled his eyes, but I could tell he was pleased with the compliment. Even long after my law enforcement career ended, I still loved catching up with the older man. Especially on a slow day like this.

I surveyed the rest of the bar to make sure that no one needed me anywhere else. Just one of my bar girls, Rhoda, was in that day, but it was no matter. I didn’t need anyone else. It was a slow, lazy weekday late in the afternoon. There were only two customers in the place, and there had only been a small handful all day long. If the previous night was any indication, the pace would only creep up a bit after five. Maybe a few of the guys from the nearby retirement home would stop in to give us some of their business, or a couple of locals needing a drink after a long day. Nothing more.

But it was alright. Business had been booming on the weekends as of late, more than making up for the slow roll of customers the rest of the week. I had more than enough time to catch up with Mike.

“You good?” I called to Rhoda, who was washing up some dusty old glassware behind the bar since there was nothing else to do after attending to the customers we did have.

“All good here, boss,” she called back with a chuckle, surveying the near-empty bar and shaking her head at the notion that I had to even ask the question.

“Alright, then, how have you been?” I asked, sliding into the booth across from Mike.

“Oh, you know, I sit around and read or watch TV, and then I might go to the beach,” the old bar owner admitted with a shrug and a half-grin. “Same old, same old.”

“Sounds like a dream come true,” I laughed, though I knew how many in law enforcement resented the idea of retirement for this very reason, myself included at one point. Mike didn’t look too upset about it, though. He’d always planned to retire.

“Sometimes, sometimes,” he said with a nod as Rhoda bustled over to us bearing drinks.

“Thanks,” I said, nodding gratefully to her. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Oh, I have a feeling you’re going to be here for a while,” she said, nodding in the direction of the door.

I realized that the kids from the local base were making their way inside, and Mike gave me a bemused look as Rhoda ran back to the bar to grab the usual round of drinks for my fans.

“Those kids still hanging on your every word?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Hey, the whole thing was your idea,” I reminded him. “Don’t go getting jealous on me after all this time.”

“Jealous? Me?” Mike asked, pointing at himself with mock incredulity. “Never. If I were telling my old stories from my glory days, they wouldn’t be giving you a single second of their time.”

“I don’t know about that,” I said dryly, though I didn’t doubt that Mike had a few tales to tell of his own.

“Back so soon?” I asked as the kids meandered over to us. “It was only last weekend that you were here last.”

“Yeah, well, someone couldn’t wait to hear the next part of your story,” Jeff said, glancing over at Charlie and rolling his eyes.

“Hey, you were the one who suggested we come in the first place,” the shorter man protested, punching his friend playfully in the shoulder.

“Come on, kids, sit down,” Mike said, gesturing at the booth beside him, and they all piled in as the two of us scooted down to make room for them.

Rhoda appeared not long after with drinks for everyone. All the bar girls knew everyone in this group’s order by now.

“Alright, then, where’d you leave off?” Mike asked as he sipped his own drink once everyone was settled.

“I told them the story about Tessa and my trip to Virginia,” I explained.

“Ah,” he breathed, nodding knowingly. “That’s a good one. It