Going Under (Wildfire Lake 2)

We arrived in town a little over a month ago, and while Poppy and Jazz have managed to make a few friends at school, Violet hasn’t.

“Hang in there, son. She’s a good girl with a good heart. She’ll find her way.”

“In case that takes longer than expected,” I say, looking at Jackie, “can you scout for a backup babysitter?”

“Sure will.”

Jazz enters the living room, crying. “Daddy, Poppy and Violet won’t let me…” I can’t understand anything she says after that. I lift Jazz into my arms and she immediately lays her head on my shoulder, sniffling. “I want my new bed.”

“Yeah.” I pat her back. “I want my bed too, muffin.” I call my other daughters, pack up, and we make our way to the door. It’s an emotional, moody production that takes thirty minutes and mentally exhausts me. When I’m walking down the front steps to our SUV, I turn to look at Jackie. “We’re still on this week?”

With doctors taking time off during the holidays, Jackie’s hours are shorter, and she’s helping me out with daycare while I’m waiting for the nanny service to find me someone suitable and flexible enough to work with my crazy schedule.

“Absolutely,” she says. “I’ll be there at six thirty tomorrow morning.”

This will give Isabel a break from my fussy, fighting girls. I’m hoping I’ll be able to keep her, because looking for another sitter is going to be a bitch, and I’m not up to it. “I owe you.”

5

KT

I loosen the last bolt on the manifold cover from one of the pleasure boats, set it aside, and pull the top off. I’m greeted with more sludge.

“Jesus.” I take the cover into the shop Levi built for me next to the marina and lay it on the workbench. “Another complete rebuild.”

I like doing rebuilds, but I know I’ll have my head and my hands in this engine for the next week, more if I run into problems. And I still have a lot of work to get done to have everything up and running for the opening of the season, Memorial Day weekend.

Every time I think about dates lately, my mind drifts to Ben. It’s been nearly a full two weeks since Christmas and I haven’t heard one word from him. Yeah, I’m surprised. Most men find me reasonably attractive, but it was the offer of uncomplicated sex I thought he’d jump at.

I head back outside and find a kid on the dock looking into the boat I’m repairing. I’m no good with kids’ ages, but she’s not little. She’s maybe a preteen. I search my mind for what day it is, because I work every day and my days often bleed together. I have to take my phone from my pocket to figure out it’s Saturday.

I look around, searching for an accompanying adult. Maybe someone is in the office with Laiyla or Chloe, talking business.

I make my way down the dock, and she looks up. Her expression is shuttered. She steps away from the boat and crosses her arms.

I stop a good distance away and smile. “Hey there, where did you come from?”

“I live up the street.”

I nod. “Where are your parents?”

“Working.”

“Who’s taking care of you?”

“My aunt.”

These terse answers expose just how defensive she is. I totally get it. I was a defensive kid too. Always getting into fights on the playground, taking on the bullies, girl or boy.

I keep my voice curious and caring. “Does she know where you are?”

The girl looks down at her feet, sullen.

“I guess that’s a no.” I pull my phone from my back pocket.

“Don’t call her.” The girl turns pleading. “I just needed to get out of the house. Can I watch? I won’t be trouble, I promise.”

“I’m not going to call her.” I offer the kid the phone. “You are.”