The Night Charter Read Free Page A

and looked around the small cabin. He took off his sunglasses, and Camaro was glad to see he didn’t have the strange, pale shadow around his eyes that some men got down here. To her they looked like raccoons of the wrong color. “This really is a nice boat,” he said.
    “It cost enough,” Camaro said.
    “Expensive?”
    “Yeah.”
    He put his hands flat on the counter. “Listen, I might be able to swing some extra money your way if you’re interested. It’s not strictly charter stuff, but it could be worth something to you.”
    Camaro looked at him. “I just do fishing charters,” she said.
    “Right. Of course. I’m only saying that we might be able to arrange some extras to give you a bigger payday.”
    “My paydays are plenty big,” Camaro said. “This is my business, remember? If you want extras, there are plenty of places that do extras. This isn’t a party boat.”
    “Sure, sure,” Parker said. “I’m sorry I said anything. Don’t be insulted.”
    “I’m not insulted,” Camaro said. “I like to keep it simple, that’s all. Boat. Water. Fish. That kind of thing. Maybe that means I lose some clients once in a while, but I don’t mind too much. There’s always someone out there who wants service without frills.”
    Now Parker smiled, and Camaro read both relief and tension in it. He was fiddling with his thumbs again. She could not tell what was driving him on. “This is my first time chartering a fishing boat,” he confessed to her. “I don’t know all the rules.”
    “They’re not really rules,” Camaro said. “I think they’re like habits. Sometimes you break them, but most of the time you do what feels right. I like doing what I do.”
    Parker stood up. “I guess I should go, then,” he said.
    Camaro looked at him again and saw the nerves prickling out through his skin. “Are you busy?” she asked him.
    “Me?”
    “Yeah, you. Are you doing anything right now?”
    “I didn’t have any plans.”
    Camaro got up. “I already ate, but I could use some dessert. There’s a diner up the road. Want to have a coffee or something?”
    Parker blinked. “You want to have a coffee with me?” he asked.
    “Yeah.”
    “Okay.”

Chapter Five
    A T THE DINER , they sat across from each other. Instead of coffee, Parker had iced tea, but Camaro had a hot cup with cream, along with a slice of key lime pie. The tartness and sweetness combined with the mild bitter flavor of the coffee played games on her tongue, and she enjoyed it. Parker added far too much sugar to his tea.
    “What do you do?” Camaro asked him.
    “Me? Oh, I’m a business consultant. I go around to businesses and tell them how to improve their operation. Efficiency. Stuff like that.”
    Camaro grinned a little. “That so?” she asked.
    “Yeah, sure.”
    “Do business consultants work outdoors a lot?” Camaro asked.
    “What? You’re talking about the tan, right? I like to do yard work and gardening on the weekends with my daughter.”
    She shook her head. “You are an absolutely awful liar,” she said.
    “I’m not lying,” Parker said. “I’m a business consultant, and I’m going to take a few clients out fishing to butter them up a little before we make a deal. Try to jack my fee up, you know? That’s how you make a living.”
    “I believe you’re chartering a boat,” Camaro said. “And I believe you have a daughter, but I think the rest of it is bullshit.”
    Parker opened his mouth and then closed it again. Then he said, “I do have a daughter.”
    “How old?” Camaro asked.
    “She’s fourteen. Going on forty. She’s trying to turn me gray, but I think I can keep a handle on her for a couple more years. When she hits sixteen, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
    “What about her mother?”
    Parker made a gesture with his thumb, whisking the thought away. “She’s long gone. Out the door when Lauren was seven. The old, ‘I’m going to get some cigarettes,’ thing. Never called