Sea Salt Caramel Murder (A Maple Hills Cozy Mystery Book 4) Read Free Page B

your Ford?”
    “Well,” Hawk laughed to himself as his mind wandered back in time, “I sold that old Ford to a junk dealer and bought a used motorcycle. I was getting ready to leave for college, and I wanted to look cool. I couldn't be seen driving a rusted Ford around, no matter how the inside looked.”
    “What's so funny about that?” Nikki asked.
    “Well,” Hawk explained, “my first day on campus I crashed the motorcycle into a tree. I was kinda looking at this girl, you see...”
    Herbert and Lidia laughed. “We understand.”
    Nikki shook her head at Hawk. “Boys will be boys,” she sighed.
    “Boys will be boys with a broken shoulder,” Hawk added. Nikki laughed. It was good to see Nikki laugh. Hawk stared into her beautiful face with eyes that swore he was seeing a part of Heaven.
    Nikki began to tease Hawk but was interrupted when she saw a man wearing a black and white uniform rush into the dining room, hightail it to the captain's table, and hand him a piece of paper. Nikki watched Captain Mayfield take the paper and read it. Captain Mayfield's face went from pleasant to alarmed in a matter of seconds. Excusing himself from the guests sitting at his table, he calmly left the dining room, even though his body language was stiff and tense. “Now, what was that all about?”
    Hawk put down the fork in his hand. He had watched Captain Mayfield's face grow concerned when the second officer in command handed him a weather report. “I'll go find out,” Hawk said, standing up. Nikki began to stand up, but Hawk shook his head. “No,” he said in a firm voice. “Nikki, if it's something serious, I'll come and get you.”
    “Let him go,” Lidia urged Nikki.
    “Hurry,” Nikki pleaded.

    * * *
    H awk , not wanting to draw attention to himself, excused himself from the table. He casually exited the dining room. Looking to his left and then to his right, he searched for Captain Mayfield. Hearing voices coming from his right, he eased down a passageway that spoke of time and better days, days when people were more real in heart rather than mind. “Sir, this storm system is moving in from behind us. We can't return to port,” Hawk heard a man tell Captain Mayfield in a worried voice.
    “Contact the local ports and see if we can swing in for a stop,” Captain Mayfield replied, staring at the weather report in his hand. Shaking his head, he moved to a porthole and studied the darkening night outside. The seas were rough but manageable. The waves were angry, bitter, and deadly; dark and filled with a hunger rising up from a deep abyss.
    “I already did,” Captain Mayfield's second in command replied. The man's name was Brody Lane. Short, plump, and well into his late forties, Brody Lane resembled a clown rather than a man who had spent his life daring the open seas. Yet, Hawk saw, peering around the corner of the passageway in order to see better, the man also held a very fine, intelligent expression underlined with a cleverness he couldn't quite put his finger on. “All ports are full. This storm is pushing the ships in.”
    “No one has room for us?” Captain Mayfield asked in an unbelieving voice. “Come now, this is impossible. You get on the line and force someone to place out a welcome mat for us.”
    “Well, we could try to return to home port,” Brody suggested.
    “Out of the question. If we do, every passenger will request refunds. Absolutely not. We will find a port to dock in long enough for the storm to pass and—”
    “Captain Mayfield, if I may sir...perhaps we should try and stay ahead of the storm system? We can push farther out to sea and then swing back in,” Brody politely interrupted. “The storm system is driving northwest. We may lose a few hours, but—”
    Captain Mayfield squeezed his hands into two tight fists and struck the wall. “You dare question me, Lane?” he exploded. Hawk watched Captain Mayfield turn around. The man's face was no longer pleasant. Now Captain