Maritime Caper (Coastal Fury Book 12), Matt Lincoln [good books to read for beginners TXT] 📗

course,” he said, reaching for the landline on his desk. “We’re always happy to accommodate your guests, Paulina. I’ll just call up to Martha and make sure that she’s available.”

We waited silently as Pierce got on the phone, and I studied the young man closely. He looked to be in his early twenties, with a mop of blond hair and a cheerful demeanor, nothing like he had been on the phone with me the couple of times that I’d caught him. He was about average-sized, and he had some lingering acne from his teen years and bright blue eyes. He didn’t strike me as ominous or devious in any way, and his cheeriness struck me as genuine. So the question remained as to why he had acted the way he had on the phone.

Pierce set down the phone and flashed us a wide smile.

“She says you can head on up,” he said cheerfully. “You remember where her office is, don’t you, Paulina?”

“Oh yes, of course, I do,” Paulina said, sounding a tiny bit offended that he would think she didn’t. “I remember exactly where it is.”

“I thought so, just wanted to check,” Pierce said, his cheerfulness unencumbered. “Enjoy yourselves and let me know if I can help you with anything else!”

“We will, thank you,” Paulina said, nodding to him and scurrying along in the direction of a nearby elevator, motioning for us to follow her.

I was glad that Paulina had handed the whole of that interaction for us. I doubted that Pierce would remember our voices from our phone calls, but there was no being sure.

We followed Paulina into the elevator and headed up to the second floor, where the doors dinged open and revealed a wide lobby area decorated like a submarine. There were fish tanks in the steel walls and a steel floor and ceiling to match. The fish tanks were shaped like porthole windows in a submarine, and there were anchors and other seafaring paraphernalia hanging between them, along with some blueprints from old submarines.

“Wow,” I breathed, unable to stop myself from getting distracted and looking around the area before we went on to the manager’s office. It was just too cool.

“This is your happy place, isn’t it?” Tessa laughed, watching me with interest as I examined some blueprints.

“You could say that,” I chuckled, smiling over at her.

“I’m glad to hear that!” Paulina said excitedly. “Are you a fan of nautical history, Ethan?”

“Oh yes,” I grinned over at her. “All my life.”

“He was in the Navy SEALS for years,” Tessa explained. “This is basically his life’s work.”

“Is that so?” Paulina asked, giving me an appraising look. “Now you two just keep on getting more interesting, don’t you?”

“I don’t know about that,” I chuckled, moving on to look at one of the old anchors. I was pretty sure it was authentic, and there was a ‘Do Not Touch’ sign hanging next to it.

“I told you you should write a book,” Tessa whispered in my ear, her eyes dancing at me as I rolled my eyes at the suggestion. “It would sell.”

I just ignored her, moving around the room and looking in all the fish tanks. They were set up such that it really felt like you were in a submarine, surrounded by water, coral, and schools of fish.

Paulina waited patiently for us by one of the many doors leading away from the round area. The others were all labeled with exhibits, some of which I recognized from the outside windows. But the one that the old woman was standing in front of just said ‘Staff Only.’

“We should go,” Tessa said apologetically, coming up behind me and whispering in my ear. “The longer we wait, the greater the chance that someone will realize who we are.”

“You’re right,” I said reluctantly, eyeing an exhibit about an old shipping expedition around the continental United States with particular interest. “Too bad we’ll probably get kicked out and not get to see any of the fun exhibits.”

“Well, let’s try not to get kicked out, then,” Tessa suggested, placing a hand on my back and guiding me toward Paulina.

“Right this way,” the old woman said, reaching for the door. “Pierce said they’d leave it open for us.”

“Oh, let me,” I said, reaching around her and holding the door open for her and Tessa.

“Such a gentleman,” Paulina said approvingly to Tessa, who snickered at me as I followed behind them.

Inside the door was a long hallway lined with doors. Some of them were open, and it looked like those were just storage closets, perhaps for old exhibits. One of the doors was labeled ‘Henry Schmidt.’

“Who’s this?” I asked Paulina, stopping in my tracks and pointing up at the nameplate on the closed door.

Of course, Tessa and I both knew who that was. Henry was George’s friend, the one who hadn’t been returning his calls about me and Grendel’s journal. I was hoping that Paulina would have some insight into whether he was retired and had failed to inform George, or was out of town, or just plain old intentionally avoiding us.

“Oh, that’s Henry,” Paulina said brightly, not thinking much of the question. “He’s responsible for finding all the museum’s artifacts and cataloging them.”

“Really?” I asked, acting as if I didn’t already know this, and it really interested me. “You know, I would love to speak to him, as well, if that’s at all possible.”

“Oh, you’d love Henry,” the old woman gushed. “He’ll talk your ear off for hours about all this nautical stuff. But I’m afraid he’s been ill lately, and he went to stay with his grandson in Charleston.”

“Ah, that’s too bad,” I said, my shoulders slumping slightly as I exchanged a look with Tessa. “I wish him well. Do you have any idea when he might be back?”

“Ah, I couldn’t begin to tell you,” she sighed, shaking her head and laughing slightly. “You know us old folks. Something’s always breaking down on us. I just hope he makes it out of this alright,