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

and he seemed anxious to know if I’d—”

“Fuck! You didn’t tell him I was here, did you?”

“It’s a bad idea to lie to the police,” Scott said grimly, “but, no. I told him I hadn’t seen a girl with brown hair and glasses, which I haven’t. He seemed pretty intent on finding you. The problem is, if he comes to this marina and starts asking around, he might get the answer he’s looking for. Someone could have seen you climb on board.”

Fear coursing through her veins, she flopped on the end of the bed.

“I can’t stay here,” she exclaimed, shaking her head. “I’m a sitting duck. Can we take off? I’ll pay whatever you want.”

“I told you I wasn’t taking you anywhere until I knew what was going on. That hasn’t changed. In fact, after meeting—”

“But it’s a really long story,” she bleated, cutting him off and staring at him with pleading eyes, “and he could walk down the dock asking questions any minute.”

“Then I guess you’d better start talking, and you can start by telling me if he really is a detective.”

“Yeah, but he’s a crook with a capital K.”

“What about you? Are you a crook with a capital K?”

“No! Of course not!”

“Don’t shout at me,” he warned, lowering his voice. “You disappeared with no word six months ago, and now you’ve shown up out of the blue apparently running for your life. Do you seriously expect me to just say, sure, no problem, I’ll help you disappear?”

“I, uh, when you put it like that…”

“Beth, I don’t know anything about you. Or should I be calling you Elizabeth?”

* * *

Scott could see the panic in her big blue eyes, but the time for fun and games was over. Though he had an unnervingly strong urge to help her, he didn’t want to be found hiding a fugitive.

“So, uh, you know my name?” she asked hesitantly.

“Elizabeth McKay.”

“What else?”

“Nope,” Scott said firmly. “You’re the one who needs to be answering questions.”

“Hello? Anyone here?” As Dan Miller’s deep voice echoed down from the deck, Elizabeth gasped, then hurriedly dove to the floor alongside the bed furthest from the windows.

“Fuck! I should have pulled down the shades,” she whispered frantically. “Oh, dear God, I hope he didn’t spot me.”

“Captain Scott? Hello? It’s Detective Miller. I need to speak with you.”

“If he’d spotted you, he wouldn’t be yelling for me,” Scott said softly.

“Can he get in?”

“No, everything’s locked up, and like I said, he can’t see inside the salon.”

“Hello? Hello?”

“He’s a persistent asshole,” Scott grunted.

“Persistent?” she repeated. “Trust me, you have no idea. What’s that noise?”

“It sounds as if he’s rattling the door.”

“Shit. He knows how to pick locks. He even carries a wallet with special tools.”

“Stay here.”

Darting into the bathroom, Scott hastily stripped, stood under the shower for a few seconds, then wrapped a towel around his waist and hurried up to the salon. He entered just as Dan Miller walked through the door.

“The door was open,” the detective declared, abruptly pausing his step.

“The hell it was. I always lock it when I step into the shower. You just broke in!” Scott exclaimed, then deciding to put the man to the test, he reached for his phone sitting on the table. “I’m calling the police.”

“I am the police,” the detective growled.

“Where’s your warrant?”

“I have cause to believe—”

“You have cause to believe nothing,” Scott retorted, “and I’m calling the real police. The ones who actually have authority on this island.”

Keeping his eye on him and ready for just about anything, Scott picked up his phone and punched in Jack’s number.

“Hey, Scott,” Jack said, answering on the first ring.

“Hi, this is Captain Scott Specter from the Victoria Sailing School. I’m calling to report a break-in. I’m on my boat and—”

But before he could finish speaking, Dan Miller turned on his heel and marched away.

“Scott? What’s going on?” Jack asked urgently.

“That so-called detective just broke into my yacht,” Scott replied, quickly closing the door. “I said I was calling the police, and as soon as I started talking to you, he bolted.”

“What the hell?”

“Exactly, what the hell?” Scott said angrily.

“I’m calling the station right now. A couple of the guys stop in here for drinks after their shift. I’ll ask them if they’ve heard about him.”

“Good idea, keep me posted, and just so you know, I’ll be sailing out of here before sunset.”

* * *

Daniel Miller strode down the wharf and climbed into his rental car. He’d been shocked when he’d discovered Elizabeth had returned to the Caribbean via Puerto Rico.

The girl was crazy, but crazy like a fox.

Victoria Sailing School was the company she had chartered from six months before, and the boat had been captained by Scott Specter. Running into him at the Shady Shack had been unexpected, but the good captain had claimed not to recognize her. Though his excuse had been plausible, Dan still wasn’t sure what to believe—or think—or do next.

Elizabeth had a way of outmaneuvering him, and she always seemed to be one step ahead. He’d found the beach house she’d been renting and staked it out, but she hadn’t returned.

Cursing himself for getting caught breaking into the yacht, he put his foot down and sped from the parking lot—then suddenly slamming on his brakes, he darted his eyes back to the marina.

Captain Scott’s boat was the only one with the shades down.

“Dammit,” Dan hissed under his breath. “You haven’t seen the last of me.”

Returning to his parking space, he pulled out his phone and placed a call to his boss in L.A. Though Dan only had a supposition, he could make it sound like more.

His demanding boss was edgy, but that was nothing unusual.

Finally managing to convince him results were at hand, he ended the call, climbed from his car, and scanned the marina.

The tranquil turquoise water was swallowing up the golden sun.

Long shadows covered the ground.

A clear sky promised a peaceful night.

Taking in a long breath, he wiped his sweating brow with his shirt