Chapter 6
PRESENT DAY
Shayna Hanford had to remind herself to shut her mouth every time she looked up at the ginormous ship docked at the Bell Street Cruise Terminal.
She’d hardly ever set foot out of Van Zandt County, Texas, let alone come all the way to the West Coast. It was a little too easy for her to forget herself and gawk.
There were big changes on the horizon. That was for sure. She had a plan. It was well-thought-out and not too complicated—the best kind of plan.
Before today, she’d only ever seen a cruise ship in magazines or on TV.
It never occurred to her how massive they were.
The Polar Star loomed like a floating apartment building, a skyscraper on its side.
Passengers in raincoats and fleece jackets lined the rail of the top deck.
Others stood at private balconies, waving goodbye to downtown Seattle.
A Southern girl at heart, Shayna fought the urge to wave back from the pier.
No reason to draw that kind of attention to herself.
She shivered—more from excitement than the chill—and tried hard not to look like a gobsmacked tourist as she watched a tugboat maneuver the monster ship away from the docks.
Her boyfriend was like the ship—big, ungainly.
He sure as hell needed a ton of maneuvering.
That made her the tugboat, short, slightly beamy, and very good at her job.
As her daddy would have said, she was the brains of the outfit.
Her Hollywood sunglasses, maroon tracksuit, and white Puma tennis shoes blended perfectly with the crowd that had just minutes before dropped luggage and then queued snakelike outside the Bell Street Terminal.
Now, virtually alone in the shadow of the ship with her back to Anthony’s Pier 66 restaurant, she could have passed for some Russian mobster’s old lady.
A steady drizzle misted her big blond curls and roundish face. It didn’t matter. The hair was fake, and the rain cooled her off.
Men with forklifts and dollies were hustling back and forth like busy little ants loading luggage and supplies until moments before the ship’s hatches closed and it sailed off to far horizons.
Far horizons … Shayna liked the sound of that.
She’d spent almost every minute of her thirty-eight years in the great state of Texas, most of that within a hundred miles of Canton.
Then, a chance website scroll about prison hookups had offered a way out, a light at the end of her extremely boring tunnel.
It didn’t take her long to learn that prison relationships were better than having a dog.
Put a little money on the guy’s commissary for ramen and Honey Buns, visit him as often as you wanted, have a great conversation with someone who was just so damned happy to see you—and then drive away unencumbered when you were done.
Her relationships were always with lifers.
Shayna Hanford loved her independence. She’d been making the two-hour drive to the Wainwright Unit in Lovelady once a week for the past four and a half years.
Her boyfriend’s sudden parole rattled her, but it had led to this trip to Seattle—her first trip anywhere.
She brushed a fake curl out of her eyes and went over her plan again for the umpteenth time as The Polar Star plowed silently away. There would be a shitload more travel in her future—if the guys would just do what she said.
She adjusted the AirPod in her ear and then took a deep breath before phoning her boyfriend.
He began talking the moment the call connected.
Shayna groaned. She’d have to put that on her list of things to teach him.
Telephone courtesy. For that matter, he could stand a lesson or two about courtesy in general.
It wasn’t his fault, but it was the truth.
They couldn’t afford a screwup, not now when they were so close.
She’d made him wait at the hotel. Too many cameras at the port.
It wouldn’t do to give his parole officer any leverage to toss him back in the joint.
“Is he with her? Tell me you saw him!”
“She was alone,” Shayna said.
“Well, hell!”
“Don’t you fret, now,” Shayna said. “We want to talk to her first anyway, right? See how much she knows.”
“I guess,” he said. “But you did see her?”
“I did,” Shayna said. “More importantly, she didn’t see me. And she would have if you’d been here. Babe, you know I love your sheep-killin’-dog look, but it is kind of noticeable. Not what you’d call strategic.”
“I know that,” her boyfriend said. “I just think we should be on the boat.”
“Leo and Bart made it on,” she said. “They’ll stay with her.”
“I don’t know them.”
“Well, I do, honeybunch,” Shayna said. “They’re my cousins. I grew up with them, for crying out loud!”
“I like to be hands-on,” he said.
“Oh,” she cooed. “Don’t I know it.” Flirting kept him on track about half the time. It was worth a try.
“I’m serious,” he snapped, all business today. “I don’t like leaving the work to someone else.”
“We’ve been over this,” Shayna said. “This ship sails through Canadian waters, meaning you’d need a passport to board, something you do not have.”
“That’s not my fault—”
“I know it’s not, hon.” She lowered her voice to try to soothe him.
He could be downright dangerous if she let him get spun up.
He’d never raised a hand toward her, but she’d seen the broody clouds in his eyes, like he might yank her head right off her shoulders before he realized what he was doing.
“We can fly to Alaska with just our IDs,” she said.
“Then they’ll let us get on the ship no problem.
When the time comes, you’ll be the one to …
you know … handle things. I promise. Relax your bones.
We’ll fly to Ketchikan tomorrow. The ship doesn’t dock until the day after.
I read online they have as many as four ships at a time there.
It’ll be crawling with tourists. No one will pay us any mind at all. We’ll be there waiting for her.”
“You’re right,” he said. “What would I do without you?”
“That’s funny,” Shayna said. “A guy like you, you’d find someone younger, prettier, smarter.”
He scoffed. “Everyone’s younger to an old cob like me.”
He didn’t say anything about pretty or smart. She’d have to train him on that, too. “We stick to the plan,” she said. “My cousins will find out what she knows.”