Chapter 11
Cressida left Braden by his car, relieved he hadn’t resisted her plan so far.
The sun shone bright on the water, but the cool bite in the wind reminded her she was in the Pacific Northwest. She strolled along the planked walkway toward the Bayfront Chandlery.
A large portion of the boats in the slips were older, some in need of repair.
Many slips were completely empty. She might not have noticed if it weren’t for Braden’s tale about the liveaboards out on the water.
Officials were preparing for the Hidden Bay Pirates’ Bash.
Nautical elements—fishing nets, barrels, treasure chests, wheels, anchors, and more—were set about on tables.
A couple of guys erected large tents and, sure enough, pirate flags.
Someone was stringing twinkling lights about the area.
A big sign advertised sea shanties sung by a local band, skits, and treasure hunts.
And her favorite was a game called “Walk the Plank.”
She had every intention of attending the event to enjoy the local maritime culture and perhaps learn more about what the locals had to say about the ghost ship. She could add more to her father’s book.
Oh, Dad, it would have been fun to be here with you.
No time to get melancholic. How far had Dad gotten?
Had he talked to Diggins before cutting his research short?
She couldn’t wait to meet the guy, especially after Braden had described such a colorful character.
When she was done talking to Mavis about communicating with Diggins, her next business was to secure another laptop.
She pushed through the door to find Mavis behind the counter today. Her smile was big but faded slightly when she realized Cressida had entered her domain.
Cressida, the woman who’d committed the crime of being a victim, and that news could scare away potential tourists.
“Good morning,” Cressida said.
“What can I do for you?” Fear and suspicion laced her words.
Hello, I’m the victim! But she wouldn’t use that to her advantage. She’d take the high ground. Did Mavis actually think Cressida would cause her trouble? “I’m looking forward to the festivities.”
“Oh, you’re staying around for the Pirates’ Bash?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, but there is something you can do for me. I’m working on completing my father’s book. He passed away last year.” Yeah, she was using the sympathy angle, and why not?
“Oh, I’m sorry for your loss.” Mavis’s attitude shifted slightly. Who couldn’t relate to losing a loved one? “It’s wonderful you’re taking the time to finish what he started.”
Cressida relaxed a little, finally making a connection with this woman.
In fact, before she left, she would make a big purchase as a show of goodwill.
“He was a maritime historian,” Cressida continued.
“I’m here for research, and I would love to chat with Captain Diggins.
” Cressida brightened her eyes. “I’m sure he has so many stories to share. ”
Cressida glanced through the big windows to focus on the group of boats floating deep in the bay, then back to the woman.
Mavis’s demeanor once again shifted as she narrowed her eyes, but then she forced a smile. She hadn’t learned how to school her features. “I have no idea how to contact him.”
“Oh, but don’t you?” Cressida didn’t believe her, and Braden had warned her. “He owns a boat in the bay and must frequent your shop. I hear you’re kind of the unofficial harbormaster.”
“He comes and goes. Lots of people do. I don’t keep their contact information in an old-fashioned Rolodex.”
“Will he participate in the Pirates’ Bash? Seems like he and the others would since they call themselves pirates.”
“I’m assuming so, but I can’t know that.”
“Can you at least get him a message for me?” Cressida pulled out her business card, relieved that her bag had been returned. She laid the card on the counter, then pushed it forward.
The woman lifted it. “Cressida Valentine.”
She wasn’t sure the woman had remembered her name from two days ago. “Yes. My cell number and email are on the card. You can do that for me, can’t you?”
“Of course. I’ll give it to him if I see him.”
Emphasis on if.
“And please feel free to call me if you learn of a way I can contact him directly.” Cressida smiled. “I’m going to browse your shop now.”
She left the counter to look at all the boating paraphernalia and supplies, touristy gifts, and a couple of grocery aisles. Along the top of the wall, black-and-white photos depicted fishermen, boating activities, sea lions, and a breaching whale. Everything one would expect to see.
One of the photos caught her attention and included a signature at the bottom, as if from a famous actor.
Jonas “Diggins” Daggerty. Cressida took a photo of it.
Now she knew what he looked like in general, but this photograph was definitely a man much younger than a bazillion years, or even seventy.
Cressida searched for something to purchase and stayed near the photographs.
And there she found it. A few historical photographs of the marina from years before, including a fully intact dock and building—the Hidden Bay Museum that had burned.
The image wasn’t overly large, but at fifteen by thirty inches or so, it wasn’t easy to carry to the counter.
“I want to buy this, but it doesn’t have a price on it. ”
“Because it’s not for sale.”
Cressida wanted to make friends. “Please. I see you have another picture of the museum. I would love to include this in my father’s book. I’d love to own it. This is my last stop before I start compiling the manuscript. Name your price.” She wished she hadn’t added that last part.
Mavis stared at the image, pursing her lips. “I don’t know. A hundred bucks?”
“A hundred bucks it is.”
The woman’s smile seemed genuine. Cressida smiled too, feeling equally as genuine.
The purchase was well worth it to earn this woman’s trust and cooperation.
Whatever it took. “This will be perfect. I can’t thank you enough.
You can have the frame though. Just stick this in a bag if you have it, or a large envelope. Anything.”
Mavis disappeared into the back room and, a few moments later, appeared again and handed off the gently wrapped photograph—at least the image was on hard card stock.
“I’ll contact you as soon as I pass your card along,” Mavis said, “so you’ll know.”
Progress.
“Thank you, Mavis. I’ll be here a few days, and I’ll see you again soon.”
Thrilled that she’d accomplished her task, Cressida left and strolled the sidewalk, taking in the salty, fishy smells and the chirps of seagulls fighting over dinner.
In the distance, honking, noisy sea lions relaxed on a rocky outcropping.
Holding the photograph under one arm, she lifted her cell to take a picture, wishing she’d brought her good camera.
She found Braden walking the planks—pacing back and forth, actually—and on his cell? He eyed her as she approached. Even though he spoke into the cell, his bright-blue eyes were sharp and took her in like he focused on her alone. Her heart sped up.
He ended his call. “Well?”
“I want to know how you got a cell signal.”
He looked at his phone. “Sometimes you get lucky. So how’d it go?”
He glanced at the package she held.
She shrugged. “She’s going to pass on my contact information. I’ll give it a day, and then I’ll just have you take me out there. Not sure if I need to rent a boat or if you have one.” She gestured to the docked boats.
“I’ll take care of it. What next?”
“What about that museum you mentioned? I bought a picture of the museum when it was here at the marina. If possible, I’ll include it in Dad’s book.”
“Let’s grab a quick lunch, and then . . . Hidden Bay Museum, here we come.”