Samantha (Barrett 2)

By now everyone on the dock must have figured out her disguise. Including this odorous mongrel.

Slowly, she raised her eyes.

Not one person had even glanced her way.

Sammy sagged with relief. "What do you want?" she demanded through clenched teeth.

The dog sat and wagged his tail, his eyes glued to her hand.

The bread. She had completely forgotten about the bread. "Here." She thrust the bit of crusty food at him. "Take it."

Eyes gleaming, the mongrel snatched the bread and bolted.

Sammy rolled her eyes skyward. How could she solve a critical mystery when she couldn't even deduce that a half-starved dog would be lured by a stale piece of bread?

"How much ye drink last night, Grady?"

The voice made her jump. Whirling about, she spied two staggering workmen en route to the wharf.

"Not as much as ye did!" The other man laughed heartily. "But we'd better be sober enough t' make sure all that cargo gets on the right ship ... and that th'ship checks out okay."

"What d' ye mean?"

"This one's Allonshire's, and his foreman says if anything goes wrong, our jobs might go with it. 'E's even sendin' another carpenter around to check out the ship before she sails."

The first man looked startled. "What's up?"

"They're all gettin' nervous, what with th'ships goin' down one after th'other. I'll tell ye, I wouldn't want t'be sailin' on one of these ... rather be loadin'. 'Tis safer."

"Yer right about that. Did ye 'ear about Goddfrey? 'E's disappeared since 'is last ship went down."

"Disappeared?"

"Mm-hum. They say 'e couldn't take it—all the questions, and the guilt. Lost a full crew, 'e did. And 'is best cap'n."

"So 'e took off?"

"That's right." The workman leaned closer to his friend. "Although I don't think it was only 'is conscience what made him bolt. Between ye and me ..."

Sammy strained her ears, inclining her head as far in the men's direction as she could without toppling over.

". . . rumor 'as it that until 'e gets some insurance money, 'e's in trouble. And I've seen 'is wife—she's one who likes 'er men plump in the pocket."

"Goddfrey's been 'it bad," his companion agreed. '"Is customers are all lookin' elsewhere to ship their cargo." He snickered. "Maybe 'is wife's arrangin' for 'is ships to go down as an excuse to get rid of 'im."

Howling with laughter, the workmen made their way to the dock.

An interesting thought, Sammy speculated, sidestepping a crane preparing to load. Could one person actually be the target for all these disasters, with the other disappearances merely diversions employed to cast aspersion elsewhere?

It was a high price to pay for profit, but perhaps profit alone was not the motive. Perhaps it was vengeance. Or jealousy. Or power. Not to mention the measures a criminal might take to avoid discovery.

Sammy's eyes sparkled. Yes. It made sense. She would find this Goddfrey and interrogate him. His name sounded vaguely familiar, which could only mean she'd heard it from Drake. And, since Drake was at Allonshire, she'd have to question his right hand, trusted friend, first mate and valet.

She could hardly wait to get back to the Town house and grill Smitty.

All caution cast to the wind, Sammy took off at a dead run, dodging crewmen and equipment alike, darting toward the warehouses.

The drone of voices accosted her an instant before she saw the two gentlemen conversing alongside the warehouse wall. Normally, their appearance wouldn't have troubled her at all. Given the view she had of the gray-haired gentleman facing her, it did.