Hooked (A Romance on the Edge Novel) (22 page)

Two other men stood nearby, one thin as a rail looking like a tough piece of jerky, the other average, non-descript, except for the tattoo of a skull on his forehead. The guy obviously had no imagination. The three looked like a trio of schoolyard bullies.

“Day before yesterday,” Garrett began, “just after two in the afternoon, the
Double Dippin’s
window was shattered and her captain injured. You were in the vicinity.”

“Is that a fact? Hurt, was she?” A gleam snaked through Kendrick’s eyes, turning them an eerie pearl. “How bad?” He gave a sinister smile, showing a row of front teeth badly needing an introduction to a toothbrush.

Garrett wanted to wipe that black smile right off Kendrick’s face with an ache so great it made him shake.

Kendrick relaxed against the large fishing reel wrapped with net, and folded his arms across his bulky chest. “Is this what your visit’s about? Sonya Savonski? The woman’s a looker…at least, she was.” He made a clicking sound with his tongue. “That little girl’s gonna end up fish food, if she’s not careful.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Why don’t we call it an observation.”

Judd grabbed Garrett as he lunged for Kendrick, and held him tight. “He’s not worth it, man.”

Garrett struggled to shake off his need to retaliate. He clenched his jaw and planted his feet on the deck. He knew better then to let a suspect provoke him. What the hell had gotten into him?

“Ah, personal is it?” Kendrick taunted, obviously enjoying Garrett’s momentary loss of control. “I didn’t think Sonya would sink low enough to fuck a fish cop.”

Fury gnawed at the thin thread of control Garrett hung onto. He wanted to kill the son of a bitch. How had this asshole lived as long as he had without someone doing exactly that?

Judd stepped in. “Did you take a shot at the
Double Dippin’
?”

Kendrick buffed his nails on his dirty shirt. “Did anyone see me do it?”

The man was rubbing their noses in it. Kendrick knew if they’d had a witness, he’d already
be
charged with criminal mischief and assault. For the first time in his law enforcement career, Garrett wanted to go vigilante.

“Do you have a slingshot onboard?” Garrett asked, taking over the questioning. He wouldn’t let this bully get the better of him.

“Sure. I’ve got a slingshot aboard. There’s also a gaff hook, a few knives, a handgun. You get the idea. This is Alaska. A man never knows what he’s going to come up against.”

“We’d like to see the slingshot.” Garrett doubted it would tell them anything, but it might make Kendrick squirm.

“You gotta warrant?” Kendrick acted bored with the conversation.

So much for squirming. Garrett had no witnesses. He couldn’t search the boat without a warrant, and he couldn’t haul Kendrick’s ass up on charges without him confessing. He didn’t see Kendrick volunteering to do that. Right now, all he had was speculation. The reality of the situation stank like this boat.

Fishy.

Garrett paused. Why
did
the
Albatross
smell so bad? He looked at the deck. It was wet. There had been no rain in the forecast for a change. Had the man been fishing in closed waters? Was that the reason they hadn’t been able to find him?

“Judd, something smell fishy to you?” Garrett signaled to Judd, pointing at the wet deck.

“Something does smell rank.” Judd caught on.

“What you got in the holds, Kendrick?” Garrett asked. He smiled when not only Kendrick squirmed, but so did his crew.

Gotcha
.

“Like I said,” Kendrick repeated, his eyes hardening to steel. “You got a search warrant?”

“Don’t need one if there’s suspicion of illegal fishing.” Garrett looked at Judd. “Do we?”

“Nope.” Judd’s smile was as wide as Garrett’s.

He gestured to the skull-tatted crewman. “Open the holds.” The crewman glanced at Kendrick. Garrett swore steam wafted off the man’s body. The crewman moved toward the hold, bent, and lifted the cover.

“Well, well. What do we have here?” A brailer full of fresh red salmon lay packed like sardines in a can.
Man, he loved his job.
“Open the other holds. Please,” Garrett instructed politely, enjoying himself.

Jerky man swore and kicked a bucket. Kendrick eyed Garrett with malice, and Garrett smiled wider in return.

“Didn’t you hear?” Judd asked, shaking his head. “Crime doesn’t pay.”

“Kendrick,” Garrett added. “I hope you don’t have any priors. You could be looking at jail time, if that’s the case.” He couldn’t help doing some taunting of his own. This was the most fun he’d had in days.

Kendrick stared at him, his face getting redder as each fish hold revealed more illegally caught salmon.

C
HAPTER
E
IGHTEEN

They returned from escorting the
Albatross
to the tender, confiscating the drift boat’s catch, and writing Kendrick up for fishing in closed waters. Skip grinned ear to ear, looking happy as he steered the
Calypso
back to the mouth of the river. Garrett filled his empty stomach with a bag of salt and vinegar chips.

They badly needed to get some real food.

“Can you believe Kendrick had eight thousand pounds of illegally caught fish on his boat?” Judd shook his head again, reaching over and helping himself to Garrett’s chips.

Yes, Garrett could. The man thought he was above the law. Kendrick had been taught a lesson this morning, and Garrett had enjoyed being the one to teach it. “The State of Alaska is a little richer today.”

“Wait until Kendrick shows up in court, and they fine him ten thousand big ones, and possibly confiscate his boat and gear.” Judd chuckled and shook his head. “You should have seen the SEAL man, Skip. One minute he was ready to tear Kendrick apart, the next he was smiling like a kid at a surprise birthday party.”

“Did you touch Kendrick?” Skip asked, worry stealing his happy grin.

“Naw,” Judd answered as he dug his hand into Garrett’s bag of chips again. “I pulled him back in time.”

Garrett shoved the bag at him and wished he’d stuff his mouth.

“What do you mean you pulled him back in time?” Skip’s shrewd eyes narrowed.

“I didn’t touch the scumbag,” Garrett pointed out, knowing it was too late to stop the unofficial advice Skip would deal out. It sucked that Skip was right. He’d never lost his cool on the job. He knew Sonya was at the heart of the reason why.

“This time.” Skip tightened his jaw. “Face it, man. Your relationship with Sonya Savonski is interfering with your ability to do your job.”

“I don’t have a relationship with Sonya.” Hell, they hadn’t even slept together. Even though he battled a serious need to. A relationship implied that they were a couple. She was ashamed to be seen with him.

“Right.” Judd scoffed, a few crumbs flew out of his mouth. “What would you call it then? I’ve got an itch for Davida. You’re craving Sonya like a starving man craves a meal. You’re seriously smitten, dude.”

He was seriously something. Question was, what was he going to do about it?

“You need to keep a clear head so there is no conflict of interest,” Skip said. “I don’t have to tell you where our case against Kendrick would stand, if you’d laid a hand on him.”

In the toilet.

He was right. The situation with Kendrick could have gotten out of control. If Judd hadn’t been there to pull him back, Garrett didn’t know what he would have done.

He needed to do something about Sonya.

Once the fishing period had closed for the day, Garrett located the
Double Dippin’,
boarded, and found her captain in a mood that matched the foul weather that had returned. He was dressed in raingear as rain slashed him. Sheets of water fell so hard that it splashed the ocean with enough force to send water raining upward. His gear wasn’t doing much to keep him dry. The evening had darkened with the storm-filled clouds showing themselves. Any leftover light from the sun was buried deep under bruised and boiling thunderheads.

“I’m not up for company, Garrett,” Sonya said, standing in the open doorway of the pilot house. She’d tied up to the cannery’s dock for the night, which made it easy to locate her. He knew if he’d tried to contact her via the radio, he’d be facing more than her cranky attitude.

“This isn’t a social call.” Garrett planted a foot on the step to the pilot house. “I’d thought you’d like to know what happened with Kendrick.”

She seemed to struggle for a moment, but when she glanced around to see if anyone was watching he knew he had permission to come aboard. The weather was angry enough to keep everyone inside somewhere warm and dry. Where he wanted to be.

“Get in here,” she muttered.

As invitations went, he’d had better, but the wind and wet were getting the best of him and he hurried up the stairs. She’d pulled homemade curtains—printed with puffins—over the windows, making the area seem smaller, cozier. He could see where she’d patched the broken glass with a sheet of plastic and duct tape. He pushed back his hood, pulled open the snaps to his rain jacket, and soaked in the sight of her. “How are you feeling?”

She tightened her lips before answering. “Fine.”

She wasn’t fine. The circles under her eyes were more pronounced, though the fire in her gaze was hot enough to warm him. She was dressed in gray sweats, wool socks, and a hoodie with a picture of a large Alaskan mosquito with the words, “Bite Me,” written across the front.

He didn’t need anymore ideas where she was concerned and wondered for a moment if she chose clothes to dress her body or her mood. Her silky dark hair lay loose around her face and shoulders. She’d combed a section to fall over the bandage on her forehead. The length of hair failed to hide the butterfly stitches marring her cheek. Her long day of fishing had obviously been too long.

“You staying on the boat tonight?” he asked, knowing the answer. She looked dressed for bed. Besides, he doubted she’d planned on heading to camp with the rain pelting outside.

“Yes.”

“Alone?” He hoped to God she wasn’t going to be alone tonight. Not only for her safety, in case Kendrick decided to cause more trouble.

“No, Peter went for ice cream and pizza. He’ll be back soon.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Comfort food?”

She cracked a smile. “Yeah. I’d really like a serving of KFC’s mash potatoes and gravy. My mom used to get me that when I didn’t feel well.”

He shared her smile. “It’s homemade mac’n’cheese for me. No one makes it like my mom does.”

They stared at each other until the silence dragged and sexual tension pressed. The pilot house was too inviting, too intimate, and they were too alone.

Where the hell was Peter?

This was not going the way he’d wanted this visit to go. A few moments in her company, and all he could think about was how did he get her into bed? This was definitely going against the plan.

She nervously licked her lips and then blurted out, “Kendrick? You came to tell me what happened.”

The name snapped him back from images of her naked in his arms. He’d come here to put a stop to thoughts like that. She was interfering with his job, his sleep, his life. Right now he was supposed to be…oh hell, what was he supposed to do? Right, Kendrick. He quickly informed her what had transpired earlier that day, enjoying her smile when he got to the part of the
Albatross’s
illegal take.

“Nice.” She grinned, the emotion reaching her eyes, making them glimmer with warmth in the low lighting from the battery operated lantern.

“It made up for not getting him for hurting you.” Garrett stepped back and came into contact with the counter behind him. Sonya was pressed up against the bunk across from him.

Only a few feet separated them.

“You don’t know for sure that Kendrick was responsible.” Sonya brought him back to their discussion.