Sail Read Free

knew exactly what Darcy was talking about. Among sailors worth spit, the superstition was widely known. What’s more, Jake believed in it. Sort of, anyway. It had been weighing on his mind as well. Like a two-ton anchor.
A boat that loses its captain at sea is forever a ghost ship.
    Stuart had died while scuba diving off
The Family Dunne.
His tank had malfunctioned, cutting off his air. Stuart went down and never came up—that is, until his body was recovered. So to Jake, superstition or not, his older brother’s boat was a haunting reminder of a tragedy he’d just as soon forget. If only he could. Had it been up to him, he would’ve sold the damn thing before the dirt even settled on Stuart’s grave.
    But Katherine absolutely insisted on keeping it, presumably for sentimental reasons. Christ! A wedding band or a watch—those made for good keepsakes. Not a sixty-two-foot luxury Morris yacht!
    Worse, the boat had done nothing but sit in some warehouse for the past four years. Katherine and the kids hadn’t sailed it once. She hadn’t even laid eyes on it.
    Darcy grimaced. “I’m sorry, Jake. Stupid of me. I didn’t mean to spook you with my typical bullshit. I’ll shut my big mouth now. Better late than never.”
    “No worries, Darcy. Everything’s going to be fine.”
    “Course it is. You’re going to have an outstanding trip,” said Darcy, smiling as best she could. “Do you need my help with anything before you head off?”
    “I’m good. Give my best to Robert,” said Jake, glancing at the Tag Heuer strapped to his wrist. The Manhattan Dunnes were late.
Of course.
“The only thing I need now is for my crew to show up.”
    Chapter 4
    FORTY MINUTES LATER the Dunnes finally arrived. The junior contingent, at least. With the fog still hanging low around the marina, Jake heard his niece and two nephews before he actually saw them. Once again he thought,
How fitting.
    The mouths on these kids were something awful. Maybe this trip was just what they needed.
    The last time Jake had had the ear-numbing pleasure of their company was when Katherine remarried, eleven months ago on Cape Cod, at the ritzy Chatham Bars Inn. At least she had looked happy with Peter Carlyle—radiant, actually—but for that entire weekend it seemed as if the only thing Carrie, Mark, and Ernie Dunne could do was argue with each other.
    Wait, correction.
    It didn’t seem that way. It
was
that way.
    And as Jake listened to their bickering voices getting closer, it was clear that nothing had changed with the Dunne crew—
his
crew now.
    “See, I told you it was this way, you idiots. I’m always right. I can see the boat.”
    Jake nodded to himself.
That’s definitely Mark, slacker par excellence. Holden Caulfield for the twenty-first century.
    “Who are you calling an idiot, you idiot? I’m not the one who got caught smoking weed in his dorm room last month.
That
was impressive.”
    And that’s definitely Carrie, our Yalie—our troubled Yalie, from what I hear.
    “Oh, yeah?” said Mark. “The only reason
you
stopped smoking weed is because the munchies were making you
fat!
Your ass is dragging, sister.”
    “Up yours!”
    “Right back atcha!”
    A third voice chimed in then—much higher-pitched; kind of sweet, really. “Sorry to interrupt this stimulating conversation between my chronologically older siblings, but I was wondering something.”
    “What is it, twerp?” asked Carrie.
    “Why hasn’t Uncle Jake ever gotten married? You don’t think he’s gay, do you? Not that it’s a bad thing.”
    Jake started to laugh.
That’s absolutely, positively Ernie! An inappropriate question for each and every situation.
    The three Dunne children finally appeared through the wisps of fog. They all smiled instantly at the sight of Jake. Whatever contempt they had for one another, they all loved their uncle. He was the “cool” relative. In fact, he was the only reason they had ultimately relented and agreed to the trip.
    Not