Hooked (A Romance on the Edge Novel) (32 page)

“Yes?” Their eyes met and his turned hard.

His jaw tightened, and he let go of her. “Nothing.”

Puzzled over his actions, Sonya returned to the pilot house and fired up the engines as her crew, plus one, cast them off from the dock. She turned the boat toward the line, in the mood to fight for her share of the catch today.

The door slid opened and in stepped Aidan, the breadth of his shoulders sucking the air out of the small room. “You slept with that fish cop last night, didn’t you?” His eyes were full of anger, accusation, and…hurt?

“Excuse me?” How could he know? Did someone see Garrett leave her boat this morning? Had word swam down the cork line that fast?

“You have that look.”

“What look?” What the hell was he talking about?

“The one you always got after we made love. You would develop this glow about you, like heat radiating from the inside out.” He swallowed and glanced away for a moment before nailing her with reproachful eyes. “Why, Sonya?”

How dare he make her feel guilty, like she’d somehow cheated on him? They were no longer together. It was none of his business who she slept with and vice versa. “Whatever happened between Garrett and me doesn’t have anything to do with us.”

He stared at her long and hard, the wounded look in his eyes changing to something dark and dangerous. “Don’t kid yourself.” Then he slammed out of the pilot house, and stomped his way to the deck where Peter and Wes were readying the net.

A chill chased up her spine.

She reached for the small aluminum pan she kept near the stove. Turning it over, she gazed long at her reflection. Did she give off a “just been satisfied” glow every time she had sex? Why had she never noticed before? Yes, her cheeks were flushed but that could be due to the accusations Aidan had just flung at her. For that matter it could be due to the weather.

Who was she kidding? It was a beautiful morning. Clear, calm, with a caressing breeze.

Suddenly she seethed.

She tossed the pan back to the stove, and it clanged as it hit, rocking until it settled. She wished she had something else she could throw. A glance at the clock told her she had ten minutes until the fishing period opened. The boats in front of her were lined up like an aluminum wall.

Damned if they wouldn’t make room for her today.

“Sonya, whatcha doing?” Peter asked as she bumped her way past the
Miss Julie II.

“You want to show Aidan how to drift, don’t you?” she hollered back at him, tired of the men in her life questioning her actions.

“Not if it involves putting ourselves at risk.” Peter turned to Aidan, and she heard his words as they traveled into the open window of the pilot house. “What did you say to rile her up? I thought you two were getting along.”

Aidan turned and gazed at Sonya, his expression downfallen. “So did I.”

The look stabbed her.

Come on already, she had nothing to feel guilty about. She was a grown woman who hadn’t had sex in over a year. Hell, she had needs, damn it. She didn’t have to explain those needs to anyone. She glanced away from Aidan and focused on finding a place to set out the net in the cramped area crawling with other drifters trying to do the same.

“Five minutes! Peter, get that buoy ready. Wes, keep an eye out.” They couldn’t put their net out until the clock struck time to fish, but if a fisherman let his buoy fly a little earlier, then all the fisherman dropped their nets. After all, how would the fish cops be able to discern which fisherman dropped their net first?

Time clicked slowly and silence settled over the bay, except for the slow rumble of diesel engines. It was as if the very air waited on baited breath.

“There!” Wes pointed, and Peter let the buoy soar. Sonya gunned the engines and the bay roared as drifters rushed to catch every last fish swimming upriver to the spawning grounds. It was a buzz that never failed to exhilarate Sonya. Forgotten was the risk of being pregnant, the reprimand she’d received from Aidan, the guilt she couldn’t seem to squash. Instead, she let the excitement and the fight for fish steal over her.

White fire erupted along the cork line as salmon hit the net. Peter and Wes pointed to areas of the net, hollering a “Hot damn,” and “Did you see that?” Even Aidan seemed to forget what had transpired between them as a smile lit his face.

He turned to her, and his smile lost some of its shine, but he nodded to her and Sonya knew he got it. Set netting did bring a portion of this thrill, but not to the heightened level that drifting delivered.

“Hey, hey, Captain. Looky there!” Peter pointed to a ten fathoms section of net where the corks were sunk.

Now that’s more like it. A sunk net usually meant they’d caught lots of fish. Wes hollered a, “woo-hoo!” and Peter did a touchdown dance. Even Aidan slapped Wes with a high five. Sonya let the net soak a little longer then hollered that they were going to pull it in. Her crew took up positions, readying themselves for a morning of picking fish and hopefully filling all the holds aboard the boat. She switched on the hydraulics and started pulling in the full net. Now if they could keep that up for the rest of the summer. With the “accidents” they’d been plagued with lately it had been awhile since they’d been able to fish out an opening.

She turned on her iPod that she’d hooked into the stereo speakers placed on deck and Bon Jovi belted out
Wanted Dead or Alive
. She sang along, running the hydraulics as her crew picked fish after fish after fish. Today might be their best day of the season. It was definitely the best stocked net of the season.

She engaged the reel and pulled on the sunken section of net.

“Hold it!” Peter held his hand up like a stop sign. “Something’s not right.” He leaned over the bow and swiftly turned to her, his face sickly white. “The net’s full of…Chuck?”

“What?” She killed the music and leaned out the pilot house window. “What did you say?”

Wes rushed to the side and bent to see what Peter had. He quickly turned back, looking as sick as Peter. “Better call the troopers.”

Peter ran for the starboard side and threw up over the edge. Sonya cut the engines while Aidan took a look and Wes tossed out the anchor. Dread lay heavy in her stomach as she made her way to the bow. Dead silence onboard caused her boots to echo like hammer blows on the aluminum deck.

Aidan suddenly stood in front of her, blocking her path. His hands held her shoulders, keeping her in place. “You don’t want to look, Sonya.”

“Move aside, Aidan. I’m captain of this boat, and I’ll handle whatever I have to.” He released her, and she leaned over the bow.

There, caught in her net, was Chuck Kendrick.

Floating belly-up.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-
S
EVEN

Sonya radioed the
Calypso
. By the time she’d finished, the anchored
Double Dippin’
had attracted a swarm of drifters. They swooped around her like a flock of squawking seagulls seeking a free lunch. She and Aidan had looped a rope around Kendrick’s body so the swift tide didn’t work him free of the net. Lord knew Kendrick was in no condition to help himself, as he was seriously dead. They’d also released the tension on the net so that Kendrick sunk under the surface, with the weight of the lead line keeping him under. She couldn’t imagine the squawking of the crowd if they caught sight of Kendrick’s bloated body.

The main problem—besides the obvious dead body—was that the other drifters were getting downright nasty over the
Double Dippin’
weighing at anchor while her net was still fishing.

“What the hell you playing at, Sonya?” The captain of the
Intrepid
rammed them on the portside. “Set netting in a drift opening? You’ve got your rigging confused, woman.”

A crewman from the
Gale Force
added from starboard, “The
Calypso’s
headed this way, and she sure as shootin’ better write you up.”

Sonya ducked as a can of pop sailed over from the
Intrepid
. The can nearly hit Sonya, exploding on deck in an arc of fizz.

“Hey!” Aidan yelled, ready to take on
Intrepid’s
crew.

Sonya grabbed his arm before he could make the leap. “Don’t provoke them.”

“This is getting dangerous.” Wes stepped to her other side so the men flanked her like a pair of bookends. “Somebody’s going to get hurt.”

“Tell that to Kendrick.” Aidan turned to Sonya. “Wes is right, this is dangerous. Too dangerous for a woman like you.”

“A woman like me?” she sputtered. The
Intrepid
tossed over another can. This time Sonya caught it and threw it back, taking great satisfaction when it boomed onto the aluminum deck and sprayed one of their crewmen. “What do you mean
a woman like me
?” She turned on Aidan.

“You know, one…who is more…refined. What did you say about
not
provoking them?”

Swearing erupted aboard the
Intrepid
and a few colorful names were directed back at Sonya along with a threat or two. She flipped them the bird. “How’s that for refined?” She raised a brow at Aidan.

Did the man even
know
her?

Wes slapped Aidan on his shoulder. “She might be a classical musician, but she has a bit of a rocker in her too.”

“I know that, but…Sonya, you can’t tell me that you enjoy this?” He indicated the boats, the fishing, the brawling.

She gave a half smile. “Yeah, I do.” Though she could have done without the dead body.

The
Miss Julie II
butted her way between the Double Dippin’ and the
Intrepid
. Treat’s concerned face appeared. “Are you aware of what you’re doing, Sonya?”

“Yep.” She nodded, shading her eyes from the high sun glinting off the aluminum boat. She’d left her sunglasses somewhere. She made a mental note to check the cabin later. She’d already searched the boat.

Treat studied her and her crew for a moment. Wes stood, arms crossed over his chest, Aidan with his jaw clenched, fists at his side, while Peter sat on an overturned bucket, head resting in his hands. “What’s really up? You need help?”

Sonya relaxed a bit and gave him a small smile. “Thanks, Treat, but looks as though help is on the way.” She indicated the
Calypso
bearing down on them.

“You’re in bad shape if you’re looking for help in that quadrant.”

“Don’t I know it,” she muttered under her breath, forgetting how sound traveled over water when Treat chuckled.

“Why don’t I stick around, help buffer the worst of them?” He nodded to the
Intrepid
and many of the other drifters of the same ilk.

“It’s really appreciated, but I don’t expect you to give up fishing to watch out for me.”

“Who said anything about not fishing?” He gave her a wily smile. “If you don’t mind me rubbing up against you every now and then, my net can drift freely from the stern.”

In a sense, Treat would use her as an anchor while he fished. He wouldn’t be tied to her but being able to rub up against her helped to keep him stationary.

“Just don’t get your net tied up with mine or my boat.”

He winked at her. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep us from getting tangled.”

Good, because nobody wanted to be tangled up with her right now.

The
Calypso
cut in along Sonya’s starboard side, forcing the
Gale Force
to back out of the way. “
Double Dippin’
, prepare to be boarded.”

How she hated those words.

Wes grabbed one of ropes the
Calypso
threw over and Aidan grabbed the other, securing the ropes to the cleats, linking the boats together from bow to stern. Peter continued to sit on the bucket, looking as sallow as tissue paper. He hadn’t said a word since losing his stomach contents. She wished she could shield him, send him below deck until it was all over, but she couldn’t do that to the man inside of him, or embarrass the boy in front of his shipmates. No matter how much she wanted to shelter him, there came a time when life dictated the course.

Garrett swung over the rail, like a buccaneer ready to pillage. “Sonya?” He whipped off his sunglasses and greedily took her in from head to toe. Her breath caught at the intense flare of heat from his worried eyes. Then his gaze swiveled to Aidan and it turned to ice. “Harte.” He took in Peter’s sickly appearance and Wes’s uneasy one. “What’s happened?”

When she’d radioed for the
Calypso
she’d been vague over the reason, just gave them her position and instructed them to hurry.