Her Very Strict Captain, Carpenter, Maggie [top 50 books to read TXT] 📗

loose fitting, but looked expensive, and the timepiece on his wrist would have cost a detective six months’ salary.

He was either corrupt, or he wasn’t a cop at all.

Lifting his phone from his pocket, Scott opened a web browser and typed in the name Elizabeth McKay…

* * *

Waiting in the small cabin, invisible to the outside world, Beth could finally take off her wig, stand under a shower, change her clothes, then stretch out and nap. But much as she wanted to relax, there was an important task that couldn’t wait. She needed to hide the money…

Chapter 2

Dumbfounded by what his internet search revealed, Scott slid onto a barstool, placed his food order, then bought a beer. As he took a drink, he found it hard to believe the capricious young woman on his boat would be capable of committing the heinous crimes described in the news reports.

“You want another beer, Scott?”

Jack’s voice snatched his attention. Glancing at the bottle, Scott discovered he’d been so lost in thought he’d almost finished it off without realizing.

“No, thanks. I’ve ordered dinner and I’ll be taking it back to the boat.”

“Why don’t you stick around? I’m about ready to eat. I want to be done before the happy hour rush.”

“I’d like to, but I might have company and I need to get back,” Scott replied, picturing Beth in her sexy sundress. “Nothing’s definite, but I’m getting enough just in case. I might even take off for a few days.”

“Sounds promising,” Jack said with a grin.

“Here you go, Scott.”

Turning around, Scott found Mandy, Jack’s perky waitress, placing several plastic bags on the counter.

“And here’s your receipt,” she continued. “Do you want to check it’s all there?”

“No, I’m sure it’s fine,” Scott answered, reaching into his pocket for the fifty-dollar bills Beth had given him, but thinking about what he’d just read, he abruptly changed his mind. Retrieving his wallet, he handed over a credit card.

“Are you having a party?” Mandy asked hopefully as she ran the charge.

“Nope, just a friend over, and I’ll probably take off for an evening cruise so I wanted a bit extra.”

“Rough life you lead, Captain Scott,” she quipped with a wink, handing him the credit slip.

He paused.

It was a phrase he often heard, and he’d usually reply with, Hey, it’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta to do it, but caught between a questionable cop and a woman in distress, his cheery quip rang hollow in his head.

“Mandy, sometimes things are not always what they seem.”

* * *

The bed took up most of the cabin with a narrow shelf between the mattress and sides of the hull. Climbing on, and dragging her bag up to the pillows, Beth had studied the decorative cushions.

Elated to find they were zippered, she quickly opened them, removed some of the foam fill, replaced it with wads of bills, then put back as much of the padding as possible. Emptying the few items of clothing she had with her, she pushed the leftover stuffing to the bottom of her bag and repacked it.

But she still had four rolls of cash.

An idea flashed through her head.

Moving quickly into the compact bathroom, she opened the cupboard under the sink and immediately broke into a smile. Sitting in front of her was exactly what she’d been hoping for: an unopened packet of six toilet tissue rolls. Hastily pulling it out, she poked her finger through the plastic wrap into each of the cardboard cylinders and dropped in the rolled bills. Letting out a breath of relief, she pushed the package back into the cabinet.

With the cash safely tucked away, she quickly stripped off and stood under the small shower. Washing away two days of grime and shampooing her matted hair, she toweled off and dressed in shorts and a T-shirt.

Though she was feeling almost normal, her shoulders and neck were cramped from being on the run and carrying the heavy bag. Moving back into the cabin and stretching out on the bed, she gratefully closed her eyes.

Scott’s image floated to the front of her mind, and as if by magic, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” she called, opening her eyes and sitting up.

Scott entered, his face solemn.

“After sleeping on the ground this bed is sheer heaven,” she remarked gratefully.

He tilted his head to the side as if studying her.

“I used to take surfing trips to Tijuana with my boyfriend,” she continued, uncomfortable under his inscrutable gaze and lack of response. “We’d sack out in the bed of his truck or on the sand. It was great, but looking back I don’t know how I did it.”

“It was a choice,” he said, finally speaking. “Doing something because you want to is very different from doing something because you have to.”

“No kidding,” she murmured, thinking back to the carefree days as she absently rubbed the back of her neck. “Those were happy times.”

“Sore?”

“Very, from lugging that bag around.”

“I’ve closed up the salon and lowered the sunshades. You can sit at the table for dinner and not be seen.”

“That’s great, thanks, I’m starving.”

Sliding down the mattress, she accepted his hand to help her off, but he didn’t step back, and as she stood up they were only inches apart.

“Glad to see that wig is off.”

“You didn’t like me as a blonde?”

“Let’s just say I prefer you as a brunette. Turn around.”

It had been a command, not a request.

Not sure what to expect as she pivoted on her feet, to her great relief he began kneading her knotted muscles.

“That feels amazing,” she breathed, closing her eyes. “Your hands are so strong.”

“I’m a sailor,” he said simply. “Tell me, Beth, are you acquainted with a cop named Detective Miller?”

Jolted by the question, she spun around and stared at him.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“H-how do you know him?” she asked urgently, trying to control her panic.

“I don’t, but I ran into him when I picked up dinner. He had an old photograph of you,