Bloody Point Read Online Free

to be hand-turned, pumped out, and cleaned, but the
sturdy Yanmar diesel was running again. All the seacocks had been fixed. Little
by little the boat was becoming seaworthy.
    She had been content in her little corner of the world, until
her former partner had showed up. Now, although she had been initially glad to
see him, she felt the old stress pulling at her like an undertow. What she had
done today, resigning officially from the Bureau, was like throwing out an
anchor.
    The air was oppressive, hot and muggy with a threat of
thunderstorms, and Cassie had chosen that day to climb the mast. The anchor
light needed to be replaced, so she’d conscripted Scrub to wind her up in the
bosun’s chair. She was up there when she saw Jake’s black SUV pull into a space
in the marina parking lot. Soon he was striding down the dock. He was dressed
in khakis and a navy golf shirt. Cassie felt her stomach knotting up.
    “Hey!” she heard him holler. “What are you doing?”
    “Fixing the anchor light,” she yelled from atop her perch.
“Say ‘Hi’ to Scrub. Scrub, this is Jake. Jake, Scrub.”
    The wiry guy standing at the bottom of the mast grinned and
nodded at Jake. He was short, maybe five feet five inches tall, and his sandy
brown hair hung over his collar. He looked like a jockey with his elfin face
and small frame. He had on khaki shorts and a T-shirt and his skin was brown.
His arms were muscular and strong, and he had his hand on a winch handle
holding the halyard, which held Cassie, suspended some 40 feet in the air, next
to the main mast.
    “You need help with that?” Jake asked. He stepped on the boat
and up on the deck next to Scrub.
    “No, sir.”
    Jake looked up at Cassie. She was sitting in a canvas seat
screwing something into the mast. The seat was swinging as the boat rocked.
“What the heck is she doing?”
    “Okay! Got it!” she called.
    “Ready to come down?”
    “Sure.”
    “Nice and easy.”
    Scrub began lowering the halyard and Jake stayed close by.
Cassie could tell it was all he could do to keep from pushing Scrub aside and
taking the line himself. When it was all over and she was safely on the deck,
it was obvious the dockhand had it all under control.
    Cassie extricated herself from the seat and smiled at Jake.
“That’s one of the fun parts of sailing.”
    “Well, Cassie, I see you’re putting that bosun’s chair to
good use.” A man in his early thirties, tall, blond, and deeply tanned strode
down the dock toward them. His eyes were fixed on Jake as he spoke. He came
abreast of the boat just as Cassie, Jake, and Scrub stepped onto the dock. The
man leaned over and gave Cassie a quick peck on the cheek.
    “Oh, hi Rick! This is my friend, Jake. Jake, this is Richard
Maxwell. He has a boat down here.” She motioned toward the end of the dock.
    Jake nodded, his eyes squinting. Cassie noticed him looking
closely at Maxwell. He was always so suspicious!
    Rick flashed a grin and shook hands with Jake. “Glad to meet
you. Yes, sir, I’ve known this girl for a long time.” He put his arm around
Cassie’s shoulder and squeezed her to his side. Jake shifted his weight.
    Cassie smiled and pulled away. “He gave me the bosun’s
chair,” she explained.
    “On the condition she would loan it back to me anytime I
needed it. That way, I have an excuse to visit her.” Maxwell turned as if he’d
noticed Scrub for the first time. “Scrub! How about cleaning out the bilge on
my boat sometime soon?”
    “Yes, sir.” Scrub finished tying off the halyard and turned
to Cassie. “I’ll be goin’ now, miss, if you don’t need anything else.”
    “Sure, Scrub. Thanks so much for your help.”
    “Yes, Miss Cassie.” Scrub turned and walked down the dock
toward the marina office, his head down.
    “It’s great to have someone do my dirty work,” Maxwell said,
grinning. “Well, I’m off to Annapolis. Always something to buy for the boat.”
    “You got a job coming up?” Cassie asked.