Two Captains, One Chair: An Alaskan Romantic Comedy (6 page)

BOOK: Two Captains, One Chair: An Alaskan Romantic Comedy
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“Whaddya need internet for?” she countered.

What was it with the people around here?  Untrusting, always expecting tit for tat…

“I want to see if anyone’s put my gold nugget on eBay,” I explained.

“Huh.  You’d think there’d be some sort of regulations on selling gold nuggets.  You said it was worth over a hundred thousand, right?  Does it need a certificate of authenticity, or… I dunno, a deed?”

“Ralph didn’t give me anything,” I said.  “He said its name was Georgette.”

Helly chortled.

We pulled up to her cabin, and she led the way in through the door.

I was immediately assailed by the sounds of blows, grunts, and the rat-a-tat of automatic gunfire.  I looked over and spotted a guy on her couch.  He had dark blond hair, and a slim build under lots of black.  He was playing some sort of video game, where it appeared he was being very successful at killing things.

I cocked my brow at him.

“J.D.,” Helly said.  “My youngest brother.”

Oh.  Right. 
The one who hadn’t said much to me at the barbecue last summer, where I’d seen him last.  Helly had later suggested he’d be a much better pick for me than Zack and Rory—more my age, much less of a troublemaker—but I knew that anyone I couldn’t even freaking remember was out of the running.  If he was my soulmate, I would have noticed him. 
Right?

He didn’t even glance up, further solidifying my conclusion that we weren’t meant to be.

I dropped into the cushy office chair at her writing desk, and flipped her laptop open.  I minimized the open document there, unfazed by the words that jumped out at me:  ‘thrust’, ‘quivering’, ‘sopping’, ‘grunted’.

“So you talked to Dotty, right?” Helly asked.  She picked up a bag of Barbecue Lays—a habit she’d picked up from Gary—and tossed one in her mouth.  “You learn anything?”

“Did you know Ed grew up here, every summer since he was born?”

Helly dragged a chair over next to me and shook her head as she plopped into it.  “I had no idea.”

I brought up the web browser, plugged in ‘eBay’ and waited for the page to load.

“No unusual traffic through the airport?” she asked.

“Nope.”

“Did you actually tell her your nugget was missing?”

I huffed out a breath as I typed ‘gold nugget’ into the search field.  “No.”

“Do you still think it might have been Ed?” she asked.  “Did you learn anything about him on your barge trip?”

I was having difficulty concentrating on her questions
and
the screen in front of me.  “Besides what I told you on the phone?  He’s actually got a pretty nice body hidden under those baggy clothes of his.”

Helly’s chair legs thumped back down as she leaned forward.  “Re-ally?”

“Tell us more,” J.D. said from the couch.

I glanced over at him, but he hadn’t looked up.  His fingers moved madly over the controller as—I swear to god—it looked like he choked a zombie to death with his bare hands.  Was that even possible?

“Yeah,” I said.

“So you didn’t find out anything incriminating?” Helly prodded.

“No.”  eBay had gold nuggets, but after I sorted them by price, it didn’t seem like any were even close to as big as mine.  Now kinda curious, I did a general Google search, ‘gold nugget’.

“Okay,” she said.  “So you’re gonna move on, then?  Maybe look at the guides?”

“I’m still looking into Ed,” I said.  “It may not be my gold nugget, but like you said, I think he’s hiding something.”

“Hold the phone,” said J.D. from the couch.  “Gold nugget?”

“Yeah,” said Helly.  “Somebody stole hers.”

“How big?” he asked.

I didn’t bother to glance over.  My eyes were practically bugging out of my head as I stared at the screen.  I was looking at a photo of one of the biggest gold nuggets ever found.  I’d always thought Alaska was a big gold state, but Australia (not that it was a state)… Holy fucking god.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Helly’s hands move, showing him.

“Dude,” he said.  “And it’s gone?”

Okay, now he was starting to irritate me a bit.  “Yup,” I said, stabbing my finger onto the mouse a little harder than necessary.  That’s right, my $100,000 nugget was gone.  Fucking missing as of two days ago, and I didn’t even have a lead.  Not a single friggin’ one.

“That sucks,” he said.  The sounds of zombie death picked up again.

‘Gold nugget Georgette’.  Nothing.  It’s like my gold nugget never even existed.

But it
had
.  A dying man had put it in my hands, and I’d almost dropped it because it’d weighed a ton.

I made a sound of frustration.

Helly patted my back.  “You’ll find it,” she said.

I looked over at her.  “You don’t know that.”

She shrugged, her blue eyes earnest as she smiled gently.  “I believe in you…”

Awwww.
  I felt my heart melting.

“…you stubborn wench.  As if you’d let some petty thieves make off with what was yours.  I believe you’ll tear this place apart until you find it, and I believe you’re gonna find out just exactly what makes Ed tick while you’re at it.”

Well, she’d almost ruined it, but I liked those last sentences too much to be upset with something so small—and incidentally honest—as her calling me a wench.  “Helly,” I said.  “I love you.”

Her hand came to rest on my shoulder.  “I love you, too.”

We stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before the silence from the couch drew my attention.  J.D. was staring, his body turned toward us, and his hands braced on the arm of the couch.  He was giving us his complete attention at long last.

“Are you two gonna kiss now?” he asked, his voice hoarse, his expression hopeful.

“J.D., that’s disgusting,” Helly informed him.  “I’m your sister.”

“Please?” he said.

She reached over, grabbed a banana off the table, and chucked it at him.

Chap
ter Five

 

T
wo seconds after I’d cut off my boat engine, the silence was interrupted by a gunshot.

I whipped my head around and glared up toward my cabin.  That sound had come from my yard.  And the only people in my yard (supposedly) were the blond idiots Helly was unfortunately related to.

I ran up from the dock, hunkering a little lower when I heard another shot.  I rounded my cabin, and the brothers came into view.

They were standing in my back yard, pointing up into the trees.  Zack held a shotgun at half-mast.

“What the hell are you doing?” I demanded.

On closer inspection, the shotgun was mine.  I stepped up to Zack and swiped it from his grasp, then planted my fist on my hip.  “Well?”

Zack whipped off his shirt, almost making me grin.

“We were shooting squirrels,” Rory said, after he’d followed suit.


Squirrels
?  With this?”

Rory chuckled.  “They explode.  It’s awesome.”

Oh my god.  Men.
  “I guess the better question is, why the heck are you shooting squirrels, when my cabin is still not fixed?”

“There’s no point in fixing it, until we get control of the squirrel situation,” Zack said.

“They’re cabin-destroyers,” said Rory.  “They’ll eat their way into your roof, churn your insulation until it’s urine-soaked and useless.  Heck, I’d be very surprised if they haven’t already.”

Zack was nodding.  “They’re insidious tree rats.  The only good squirrel is a dead squirrel.”

“And one blown to bits,” said Rory, “even better.”

I rubbed the ache growing between my eyes.  Maybe Helly’d been right.  Maybe it wasn’t worth the trouble…

No! 
They broke it, they’d fix it.  That’s how it worked.  That’s how it was
going
to work.

I sucked in a deep, calming breath, the type that I usually prescribed to Helly.  “Okay, this is what’s going to happen.  You’re going to stop shooting squirrels.”

“But—”


No more
shooting squirrels.  Instead, you’re going to fix my roof.”

“But—”

“You’re not going to do anything except work on my house.  Got it?”

They grumbled something that sounded like assent.

“First, I want you to look at everything Helly and Gary brought over, decide what else you need.  Put in an order, get the rest of the boards shipped in.  Some more roofing, blue so it matches the existing.”

They glanced over at my barge.  “But we thought maybe you—”

“No.  I don’t want to wait that long.” Additionally, I wasn’t going to allow them to saddle me with extra work, just to save them a few bucks, after they broke my house.  They were going to
pay
, dammit!  “Have the supplies flown in.  ASAP.”  Let them kiss their $300 goodbye for the flight.  These boys were in dire need of a lesson on consequences, and I was just the woman to give it to them.

My gaze had landed on my crushed generator house.  “Also,” I said, “I want you to dig out my generator.  Do it now.”  I’d probably need to run it tonight if I wanted to keep the lights on.

Swinging my shotgun to point at the ground, I gave them a final ‘Don’t Fuck With Me’ look, then made for the house.

I brought my mail inside, and found my goat cowering under the table.  I ground my teeth.  Mimi wasn’t a timid sort, but gunshots and explosions didn’t agree with her.

After handing her a carrot, I started opening bills.  Living out in the bush, I didn’t have a lot of traditional bills.  No electric or gas.  No water or trash pickup.

Before you get excited, no, it’s not like I wasn’t paying for those things.  My generator, which provided electricity, ran on diesel.  My oven, on propane.  My boats, gasoline.  I had to buy all of those fuels directly.  By the time they got out to the bush, the price had basically doubled due to transportation cost—gas that was three-something in town became $7/gallon, etc.

I had an advantage here because I did the transporting myself, a thousand gallons of gasoline or diesel at a time.  The problem was, I bought all of these fuels on a credit card—one that got me Alaska Airlines miles—and I had a few clients that had not yet reimbursed me.  I had one client in particular that hadn’t paid three bills totaling $15,455.25, accumulated in the past two years.

So, I had a big-ass credit card with an obscene interest rate, and I was paying that interest on a balance that wasn’t mine.  I cringed as I opened this month’s bill, then clenched my teeth as I saw the bottom line.  In that mysterious way that credit cards seemed to have, my payments weren’t chipping away at the balance at all.  I really needed to get it paid.

I’d bugged Clint Lascomb in the past to pay his bill.  The frustrating part was, he probably had several times that amount in the bank right this very moment.  He owned a posh fishing lodge upstream, and had several lucrative side businesses.  So he wasn’t
unable
to pay.  No, the man was just a stingy dick.  He didn’t pay a bill he felt he didn’t have to, and apparently, he didn’t feel he had to pay me.

Setting the bill down, I pulled out my phone and dialed.  As the phone rang, I looked out the window.

The brothers had my generator shack half-deconstructed.  A corner of a dented generator was appearing from the mess.  I felt my stress level rising as I mentally estimated what that generator had cost, and how much money I
didn’t
have to buy another.

“Majestic Lodge, how may I help you?”

“I need to speak with Clint,” I said.

“May I ask who is calling?”

“Suzy Ramsey.”

“Ah, Ms. Ramsey, I’m afraid Clint isn’t in.”

Sure, he’s not.

“May I take a message?”

“Yes.  Please.  Tell your boss I’d really appreciate it if he’d pay his bills.  As I’m sure he knows, he’s got an outstanding account with me, several thousand dollars dating back two years.  I need that money.”

“Of course,” the woman said, not sounding at all surprised.  “I’ll pass on your message.”

“Thank you,” I said, not having much hope.  I’d had identical exchanges with whatever newest help Clint had, at least a half dozen times before.  He was never in, he never returned my call.  He never paid, and I continued to pay interest on his debt.

Setting the bill aside, I leafed through the rest of the envelopes, wanting something positive to help me climb back out of my funk.  One in particular caught my eye:  ‘Law Offices of Schenk & Little’. 
Huh
.  I didn’t have a lawyer, though I should probably get one to get my money from Clint.  I turned the envelope over, opened it, and scanned the letter.  Big fancy heading, addresses for everybody and their mother…

My urge to yawn died suddenly when I got to this part: 
Re: Gold Nugget, ‘Georgette’.

Dear Ms. Ramsey,

It has been brought to my attention that you are in possession of my client’s property, namely a 5.7 lb. gold nugget the previous owner designated ‘Georgette’.  This gold nugget was left to the previous owner’s daughter, my client, Ms. Chastity Harsnot, in his most recent and official will, copy enclosed.  Thus, you are in possession of what is essentially stolen property.  Ms. Harsnot has generously agreed to give you one month to return her property.  If you have not produced the nugget by the 30
th
of June, 2016, she will file suit for the full value of the nugget at current gold prices, plus 20% as it is a large, natural nugget, for the total amount of $119,092.28.

Sincerely,

Lawyerly, No-Sense-Of-Humor Dickhead

A buzzing began in my ears.  I reread the body of the letter, disbelieving what I’d just read.  No, that’s really what it said, except for the ‘dickhead’ part.

I flipped the sheet out of the way, eyeing the will.  It was dated five years ago.  I skimmed to the section that had been helpfully marked with a red sticky arrow.  Feverishly, I read.

Indeed, according to this, Georgette should have gone to a woman named Chastity.

Mother.  Fucking.  Hell.

I dropped both sheets of paper on my table.  Feeling like hyperventilating, I scrubbed at my face with both hands.

Could this possibly be right?  Ralph had handed that nugget to me, given it to me, had wanted me to have it.  And yet, his ‘most recent will’ said it was his daughter’s.  Could that be right?  I’d only really known Ralph the last four years, so yes, I guess it could.  If he hadn’t updated his will, if that had somehow slipped his mind…

I, me, with my cabin payment, barge payment, and maxed-out credit card, suddenly owed someone over $100,000.

I hadn’t even known he had a daughter.

Needing to move, I shoved to my feet and began to pace.

What the hell was I going to do?  I didn’t have the nugget.  It was gone, and I didn’t know who took it.

But I needed it, because if I didn’t turn it over to this phantom daughter—because things written on a piece of paper five years ago trumped intention a month ago—I’d owe more than my cabin was worth.  It just didn’t seem right.

I read the letter again.

It was all the same.  A mysterious woman named Chastity was the ‘rightful owner’ of my nugget.

And, what’s more, the letter said I had a month, but mail being what it is to Alaska, I now had two weeks.  Two weeks to produce $100,000.

I threw the papers down on my table, and started to pace again.  To say I was perturbed was putting it mildly.

I needed to get the nugget back.  I
needed
to figure out who took it.

I stopped in front of the kitchen window, gazing out at the brothers as they pulled the last of the crumpled roofing away from the generator.  The sun gleamed off their skin, highlighting their flexing muscles, but it was the dented-up generator that held my attention.

I had a feeling about Ed.  It was a hunch, not unlike the feeling I got when I was barging in dangerously shallow water.  Ed had a secret.  And with the way he got around, even if he didn’t steal my nugget, he might have an idea of who did.

I wouldn’t see Ed for another couple days, if he went barging with me again.  But Ed liked to fix things.

I ran out the door, and jammed down the button to prime the big engine. Holding my breath, I pushed START.  Nothing happened.

Yes!
  I ran back inside.  Found our local phone directory.  Found Ed’s number.  Pulled out my phone.  Dialed.

“Hello?”

“Ed, my generator’s gone tits-up.  Helly’s brothers moved the tree they dropped on it, but now it won’t start.”

“Ah.  I can come look at—”

“No!  No,” I said, moderating my tone.  “The brothers are still here, and I’d really like to have some time away from them.  Can I load it on my barge and bring it to you?  Please?”  Had I come on too strong?

“Uh… sure.”

“Now?” I wheedled in my cute voice.  I had a $100,000 gold nugget missing; every second counted, and its recovery warranted every weapon in my arsenal.

“Sure,” he said.  “I’d be happy to look at it now.”

Yes!
  “Thank you so much!  I’ll be right there,” I chirped.

I had the brothers lift the generator and carry it to my barge.  They grumbled the whole way, making manly sounds about how they could fix it for me.  I ignored them.

Then I drove to Ed’s place.  He was waiting for me down at the beach, sitting on one of a pair of lawn chairs along the river.  For some reason, the sight of him made my heart beat a little faster. 
Probably the idea that he could be a thief.

He unfurled himself from the chair as I pulled up, and then tied off my bow ropes, correctly, without having to be asked.  I spent a moment too long staring at him, caught by the way the sunlight created red-gold highlights in his dark hair.

Then I hurried forward and lowered the ramp so he could walk onboard.  He was careful to tap the mud off his boots before he stepped onto the aluminum decking.

“Um, is there any chance I could use your bathroom?” I asked.  “I know, I should have gone before I left…”  I did my best to look small and helpless, and like I really needed to pee.  The look probably would have worked better on someone who hadn’t seen me run Helly’s brothers down and force a confession from them at gunpoint.

But Ed said yes.  I followed him up the bank, noting he actually had a pretty fine ass under those jeans.  As we moved onto a trail that wound into the trees, I looked around with curiosity.  I’d never been to his place before.

“Oh my god, I love it!” I exclaimed as a little covered bridge came into view.

He tossed a grin at me over his shoulder, and then slowed so we were walking side-by-side.  “My dad’s idea,” he said, “to dress up a sad little ravine.”

“It’s wonderful,” I breathed, listening to our footsteps echo as we walked through it.  It was only about ten feet long, and just wide enough for a four-wheeler to pass.

BOOK: Two Captains, One Chair: An Alaskan Romantic Comedy
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