Chapter 15
LUKE
More men carrying heavy equipment crates walk past my office window, causing my suspicions to rise.
For the past few weeks they've been trucking in things Hannah tells me are equipment shipments for the festival, but red flags are waving everywhere.
It's early April, and they don't even have the stage structure planned yet, let alone the barricades up to protect their crates, yet they're already bringing things in. Something doesn’t sit right with me.
I rise and walk to the window where I watch muscled men cloaked in dark clothing with heavy tattoos on their arms struggle past. It's clear the crates are heavy, but they bear no markings on the outside other than red cautioned banners that read Fragile and This Way Up.
I try not to be too nosy—I know that's a bad trait for small-town folks—but my gut tells me it isn't festival equipment in those crates.
My hand slides into my pocket and I pull out my phone.
Rico hasn't checked in for a while. I asked him more than a month ago to pull up whatever dirt he could on Calvin Dorsey after he, too, said the name sounded familiar.
It's been long enough that he's got to have something, and I'm tired of waiting.
With the suspicious activity going on, I want an update sooner rather than later.
"Yeah," Rico says, picking up almost instantly. "Maddox, I meant to call you."
My eyes track another pair of men and another crate traveling past my office window as I say, "Yeah, well you didn't… Care to tell me what you found when you dug around?"
There's no point in my trying to track every single movement they make.
It's exhausting me and keeping my nervous system locked in fight mode, and I'm too tired to continue at this pace.
I walk back over and slump into the desk chair where I was going over repair bills.
Some of these things are getting astronomical.
I'll have to take out a loan if this doesn't stop.
"It was nothing for a long time, buddy. I dug into everything I could think of.
That name just sat wrong with me for weeks.
" On Rico's end of the line I hear shuffling of paperwork, then keys typing.
I know he's back from his leave and probably at his desk running strategy assessments, but this can't wait.
If Hannah's buddy is up to no good on my property, I don't want to take a fall with him, or let her take a fall, either.
"But?" I ask, picking up the pen on the desk and clicking the end. It's a nervous habit I have that helps calm me.
"But I found something. It was just last week and I got confirmation yesterday, and I was going to call but we had this work thing…" More typing on his end and he sighs hard. "You sitting down?"
Now no one says that unless they have bad news, so I'm glad I am sitting. Whatever it is, for one Marine to ask another to sit down for something like this, it's got to be worse than I feared.
"Yeah, go on." My thumb clicks this pen harder and faster as my chest starts to tighten. If Dorsey has dragged Hannah into some mess, I'll hurt him—bad.
"So, it turns out Dorsey is a bad man, Luke.
In 2008 he was investigated for illegal arms dealing in the Middle East." Rico continues, but I huff and grumble under my breath.
"Then in 2011 he was arrested for suspicion of aiding terrorist cells in Afghanistan but later let go with no proof to back up the charges. "
"And more recently?" The pen isn't doing its job of calming me. I launch it across the room where it hits one of the business permits on the wall and makes it tip sideways. Now one of them hangs crookedly and annoys me, but not as bad as the roiling anger inside my ribcage.
"Nothing in the past few years, but there's word that he's been at it again.
You're probably dealing with something shady, just like you fear.
" Rico and I go way back—like all the way to bootcamp when I learned he was in the service because his parents forced him to after getting into trouble for hacking things no teen should know how to hack.
If anyone can get me proof of Dorsey's crimes, I know it's Rico.
It's just a matter of whether he has time.
"Can you get me more?" I stand, seeing Hannah walk past my window toward her boat, and wonder if I should try to warn her yet.
If Dorsey is into deep shit, she could get taken down right along with him.
But without proof, she'll just think I'm dragging my feet on festival stuff. I don’t want to upset her when we're finally not at each other's throat.
"I'll do my best. Now that I know what we're looking at, it should be easier to track his activity." I hear more typing and I know Rico is already on the hunt.
"Good, well find out what's coming into this port and where it's going if you can. Look, I gotta run. There's someone I need to catch. But call me with updates as soon as possible. If I can take this guy out, the sooner, the better."
"Sure thing, bud." Rico hangs up and I pocket my phone, already moving toward Hannah.
God, I'd like to go find that fucker Dorsey and tell him off, but if I do that and he gets scared, he may pull out.
And if he goes, his money goes with him.
I might be able to handle these repairs on my own without his help, but no way Hannah can pull off a festival the size she's planning on her income.
She needs his funding. I have to do this right or risk hurting her.
I stalk out of my office onto the pier where the sun is warm and the water is inviting. Hannah stands by her mooring, scowling at something, and I walk straight toward her. Much like I can't tell Dorsey off, I also don't want to alert her.
A warning might frighten her and make her suspicious of Dorsey, so much so that she could pull out and ruin her own festival too.
Without substantiated proof, there's no reason for anyone to get up in arms over this.
I'll wait for Rico, but in the meantime I have to make sure she's okay.
That she's not being coerced by Dorsey. She has been more withdrawn and quieter lately, too, which could be a signal I've missed.
"Oh, good, Luke…" Hannah looks up at me, tossing some hair out of her eyes.
"This thing isn't working right, and we have a party tomorrow.
" She kicks the passerelle and scowls at it, then looks up at me.
"Can you do something with it? Gary is working a charter today with Tank and I can't risk leaving it until tomorrow. If he needs a part or something…"
The request wraps around me like a warm blanket.
Of course I'll help her. Anything I can do to be closer to her is a good thing, and not just because of my morbid need to self-deprecate or feel rejected by her.
I just know if Dorsey is up to something, the more he sees me around her, the less he will fuck with her.
"Yeah, sure," I say, pausing to look down at it.
I know just about nothing when it comes to this sort of work, but I'm not going to tell her no.
"Let's have a look." I follow her across the metal passerelle onto the boat and fiddle with a few knobs and switches.
Hannah vanishes into the salon like she's happy to let me work unsupervised, and I stare at the damn contraption not knowing the first thing to try.
After ten minutes of fidgeting with knobs and buttons, the metal arm begins to retract and the passerelle rises, then lowers into its slot along the side of the yacht, and I feel a bit of relief.
I'm not sure how to make it expand again, but it's working so far as I can tell.
When Hannah pops her head out, she smiles.
"Oh, thank God… You fixed it." She stands in the doorway to the salon leaning on the jamb, looking as addictive as ever.
"Not sure what I did, but it's stowed… Now to get off this yacht of yours." I chuckle, rubbing the back of my head as she walks over and presses a single button which makes the mechanism hum and grind, then the passerelle rises.
"Like this…" She looks up at me, cheeks rosy and lips flushed dark, and it almost takes my breath away. "You just have to…"
Hannah has no clue how beautiful she is.
I could tell her, but there are no words to describe it.
Comparing her to a summer sunset over the ocean or the sight of wild flowers along the highway, no priceless artwork or expensive material thing could ever stack up.
She is God's masterpiece and I must look like I'm staring.
"Yoo-hoo…" Hannah snaps in front of my eyes and I blink a few times. "Where'd you go?" She shakes her head, tossing her hair, and I find myself moving closer to her.
"Do you have any clue how beautiful you are?"
My question catches her off guard. I know she just wanted me to fix her boat.
She probably has plans to do something and doesn’t have time to waste talking to me, but if I don't tell her what I'm thinking when I'm this close to her, I'll swallow these words and never get the chance.
She'll walk off and find someone else, and my chance will be gone.
I'm sorry, Nick, but I'm falling for your sister.
"Luke?" Those long eyelashes bat as she bites down on her lower lip, and I lean in closer, not yet reaching for her, but damn, do I want to. My entire body feels on edge, like a predator poised to pounce on its prey. Hannah has become something I crave so deep in my gut, I’m not sure how to stop it.
"Hannah, I'm gonna kiss you now unless you stop me.
Because seeing you walk past my window every day, two or three times, is driving me nuts and I can't get you out of my head." I step closer, but she doesn't back away, and I take that as my cue that she's giving me consent. I’d never do anything she didn’t want me to do, so knowing she’s not protesting feels like I’ve already won the checkered flag.