Metro Girl (Alex Barnaby 1)

“He did,” the man said. “But he called in a couple days ago and quit.”

I did my best at looking shocked. “I didn’t know,” I said. “I just flew in from Baltimore. I was going to surprise him. I went to his apartment, but he wasn’t there, so I thought I’d catch him working.”

“I’m the ship’s purser, Stuart Moran. I took the call. Bill didn’t say much. Just that he had to leave on short notice.”

“Was he having problems?”

“Not on board. We’re sorry to lose him. I don’t know about his personal life.”

I turned my attention to the boat. “It looks like you’re getting ready to leave.”

“We don’t have any immediate plans, but we try to stay prepared to go when the call comes in.”

I thought it might be helpful to talk to the crew, but I couldn’t do it with Moran standing watch. I turned away from the boat and bumped into Sam Hooker.

Hooker was just under six foot. Not a huge guy, but big for NASCAR and built solid. I slammed into him and bounced back a couple inches.

“Jesus Christ,” I said, on an intake of breath. “Shit.”

“Cute little blonds wearing pink skirts aren’t allowed to take the Lord’s name in vain,” Hooker said, wrapping his hand around my arm, encouraging me to walk with him. “Not that it matters, you’re going to hell for lying to Moran.”

“How do you know I was lying to Moran?”

“I was listening. You’re a really crappy liar.” He stopped at the empty slip. “Guess what goes here?”

“A boat?”

“My boat. My sixty-five-foot Hatteras Convertible.”

“And?”

“And it’s gone. Do you see a boat here? No. Do you know who took it? Do you know where it is?”

The guy was deranged. One too many crashes. NASCAR drivers weren’t known for being all that smart to begin with. Rattle their brains around a couple times and probably there’s not much left.

I made a show of looking at my watch. “Gee, look at the time. I have to go. I have an appointment.”

“Your brother took my goddamn boat,” Hooker said. “And I want it back. I have exactly two weeks off before I have to start getting ready for the season, and I want to spend it on my boat. Two weeks. Is that too much to ask? Two friggin’ weeks.”

“What makes you think my brother took your boat?”

“He told me!” Hooker’s face was flushing under his tan. He had his glasses off, and his eyes were narrowed. “And I’m guessing he told you, too. You two are probably in this together, going around ripping off boats, selling them on the black market.”

“You’re a nutcase.”

“Maybe selling them on the black market was pushing it.”

“And you have ange

r management issues.”

“People keep saying that to me. I think I’m a pretty reasonable guy. The truth is I was born under a conflicting sign. I’m on the cusp of Capricorn and Sagittarius.”

“Which means?”

“I’m a sensitive asshole. Whatcha gonna do?”

It was a great line, and I really wanted to smile, but I didn’t want to encourage Hooker, so I squashed the smile.