Chapter Two New Devon #2
“Huh.” Viggo thought for a moment. “I wonder if it was drawn in one sitting or if Kirby occasionally doodled with it.”
“That’s possible. It had different colors that didn’t seem to match,” Madison said. “I guess we’ll never know.” She sighed.
Just then, Viggo’s cell phone rang, and Viggo took the call.
It was Burton. “Yeah, Rob. What’s up?” He paused.
“Really? Okay.” Another pause. “I’m with her now.
” Viggo nodded toward Madison and said, “They found the frame. It was broken. Smashed the glass.” Viggo continued to listen.
“Will do. I should have some CCTV tomorrow. Right. You, too.”
He turned to Madison. “Sorry, kiddo. Map is gone and the frame is in pieces.”
Madison frowned. “Where did they find it?”
“Over by Second Jetty, the restaurant.” Viggo thought for a moment. “They must have been in a hurry. Grabbed the frame, and when they were clear of the boat house, they smashed the glass, took the map, and took off.”
“I don’t get it,” Madison said, and shook her head. “Do you think it was kids?”
“I doubt it. I think this was planned. They knew the boat house would be closed and that almost everyone within a three-mile radius would be at the park,” Viggo said. “They waited for nightfall, as well.”
Madison was pensive. “Can I tell you something?” she asked.
“Of course. Shoot.”
“Please don’t think I’m a loon, but I think there’s more to this than that map.”
“How so?” Viggo squinted, trying to understand what Madison was driving at.
“That’s just it. I have no evidence, obviously, but it strikes me as odd that whoever wanted the map waited until the place had been restored. Why didn’t they swipe it right after Kirby died, or at least before we took over? The place was a mess. No one would have noticed if something were awry.”
“Good point,” Viggo said, then smiled. He was still standing with his arms crossed. “Have you considered going into the private investigation business?”
“Not yet.” Madison let out a long sigh. “Are you going to sit down?”
“Yes. In a sec. Don’t go away.”
Madison was mystified. It had been an odd day, for sure.
She watched him sprint toward the water.
They were a few yards from the dock where Viggo’s personal skiff was tied off.
It wasn’t much of a boat, which was exactly what he wanted.
He spent enough time on patrol boats and a variety of vessels.
Something simple, which simply required a push of a button and turn of a key, was plenty.
Madison watched him squat down, pull the boat closer, then lift what appeared to be a small cooler backpack from the boat. But he wasn’t sprinting back. His steps were deliberate, and she could see a big grin on his face.
“What are you up to?” she said, and tilted her head to one side.
Viggo sat next to her and unzipped the large pouch.
He checked his watch and said, “As of right now, I am no longer on duty. I really lucked out today. Only one stranded beachgoer.” He reached inside and pulled out a bottle of Dom Perignon champagne.
“I was going to give this to you at the ribbon cutting, but there were a lot of people there and I didn’t have enough to go around,” he said, grinning.
Madison was pleasantly surprised. “Viggo! That is so thoughtful. Thank you. But Lincoln and Olivia aren’t here to share it.”
“I guess we’ll have to deal with it ourselves.” He removed the foil and unfastened the cage. He held the cork in one hand and twisted the bottle away from him. It made the unmistakable sound of a popped bottle of bubbly as the air made its escape. He made a mocking frown.
“What?” Madison said, inches away from giggling.
“No flutes.” He handed the bottle to her. “You did say you wanted an adult beverage.”
She grabbed it and lifted it toward the water. “Here’s to Uncle Kirby!” Then she took a swig from the bottle. Using her other hand, she wiped her lipstick off the mouth of the bottle and handed it back to Viggo.
“You have cooties?” he teased.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She feigned insult.
“I was being polite. I didn’t want to get my lipstick smeared on your lips.
” Her stomach fluttered. Maybe she really did want her lipstick on his lips, but not by passing a bottle of bubbly.
She let out a long sigh. “This is the most relaxed I’ve been all day. Thank you.”
Viggo patted her hand. “My pleasure.”
“So tell me, Captain. Who are you really? Right now, you are my knight in shining armor.”
Viggo laughed. “It’s the uniform. Gets ’em every time.” He leaned his forearms on his thighs. “Seriously. What do you want to know?” He kept his stare forward, waiting for the inquisition.
“In all the conversations we have had, you rarely talk about your childhood, your education. All those things that have made you the man you are today.”
“It’s not very exciting.” He did not want to let on that he knew about her father, so he refrained from saying, “my past isn’t as colorful as yours.
” He decided he would let her tell him. Or not.
He turned toward her and proceeded to give her the basics, such as when his family came to the States, his education, his fascination with the water, but not necessarily fishing.
“I don’t know why I always associated boatmen with fishing.”
“Common error.” He wiped the bottle with a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it back to Madison.
“Oh, so you have cooties?” Madison leaned her shoulder into his. She could have sworn she saw a spark.
“No, just scurvy,” he joked, referring to the illness that cursed many sailors whose diets lacked vitamin C.
“I believe there is a supplement for that,” Madison said with a straight face.
Viggo chuckled softly. He looked at her and resisted the urge to brush a few windswept locks of hair away from her face. He didn’t think she looked unkempt. He just wanted to touch her. Softly.
As if reading his mind, she tucked the itinerant strands behind her ear.
He also wanted to ask her about remaining in Smuggler’s Cove. If the answer was yes, they might be able to move their relationship forward, providing she would be interested.
Viggo studied Madison’s profile as she gazed out on the moonlit water. Again, she mysteriously read his thoughts.
“Someone asked me an unexpected question tonight,” she said, still looking straight ahead.
Viggo was nervous. Which question? The words jumped from his brain, straight out of his mouth. “Which question?”
She turned toward him and cocked her head. “If I was planning on staying here. Moving here.” She waited for his reaction. Now it was her turn to be anxious. Would he encourage her or be blasé?
“We would love for you, Lincoln, and his family to join our community.” There. Was that oblique enough? he thought, while his nerves jangled down his spine.
Madison wasn’t sure how to take the matter-of-fact response. She pressed on as if she were in the middle of a conference. Cool. Collected. She did not want to embarrass herself by being effusive. “We are supposed to move out in September.”
Viggo’s heart sank. Was that her conclusion? See ya. Gotta get back to the Big Apple. Viggo was surprised at his own feelings of insecurity. He decided he really, really liked her.
“I was thinking I should approach the owners and see if they are interested in selling the house to us.” Madison said it plainly, as if that were something she had already thought about. Probably, because it was.
“That would be terrific.” Viggo mustered up more enthusiasm. “Would all of you move here?” Viggo decided the conversation was now open for questions.
“I hadn’t put that much thought into it,” she fibbed.
“But I’ve been quite comfortable here. I hadn’t realized it was possible to live somewhere where it wasn’t an ongoing blast of sirens, people yelling, horns honking, and subways rattling your building.
” She paused, then smiled. “I’m kidding.
Some days of cacophony are worse than others.
But one does become deaf to it, and often blind.
Blind to many things,” she considered pensively.
Viggo leaned back, rested against the wood bench, and draped his arm along the top of it. “There are too many distractions.”
“Indeed there are. And … I’ve been married to my job,” she confessed. “You think you know what you want, and you become deeply involved in the goal and ignore the process, the journey, to use an overused word.”
“A ‘stop and smell the roses’ moment? Speaking of clichés,” he said, and chuckled softly. Viggo recognized Madison was opening up to him and hoped she’d continue.
“Funny you should say that. It’s one of my mottos, which I don’t often follow.
It took some time at the shore to recognize how much energy I’ve put into my work.
My social life consists of work events, charity galas, and spending time with Lincoln, Olivia, and Giada.
” Madison hoped Viggo might take the hint that she wasn’t dating anyone now, or for some time.
“May I say something?” Viggo asked gently.
“Absolutely! You saved me from my fans.” She nudged him again.
Viggo’s phone pinged before he could continue.
He hoped he’d be able to get up the nerve once he answered the call.
“Hey, Rob.” He listened. “Okay. Thanks for the update.” Viggo twisted toward her.
“One of the clam boats from the reclamation center was stolen earlier. They recovered it near Second Jetty.”
“The same place they found the broken frame,” Madison stated.
“Correct. When Rob got back to the station, there was a note about the missing clam boat. An hour later, it turned up.”
“The getaway skiff!” Madison’s eyes went wide.
“Yep.” Just as he was about to continue, his phone made an odd sound. Viggo laughed and said, “It’s Diogo.”
“Diogo?” Madison repeated, confused.
“I have a doggie-cam. This way, I can check in on him during a long shift. I taught him how to press a button to find me.”
“That is remarkable! Very impressive. Diogo is quite the clever one.”