Rigged for Murder (Windjammer Mystery Series) Read Online Free Page A

there today. Not many sailors can smile in the teeth of a nor’easter. Danger’s no stranger to you, is it?”
    Brie deflected the question. “From what I’ve heard around Camden, when you sail with John DuLac, there’s little cause for concern.”
    He looked away, as if uncomfortable with her praise. “It’s risky business believing everything you hear.”
    “Don’t worry, I always check my sources, and the Camden consensus is that, when it comes to sailing, you’re the man for all seasons. And then there’s your criteria for this cruise that suggests maybe you’re looking for people to share the edge with—folks who don’t shrink from a little excitement.”
    John smiled, assessing her. He saw strength in her, maybe even steel, but something else, too. Uncertainty? Loneliness? He wasn’t quite sure, but he recognized the eyes of a seeker.
    “You’re right,” he said. “I get enough sunny days and gentle winds in July and August. That’s enough excitement for most folks who book during those months. They’re looking for a more relaxed experience. Most of them wouldn’t be interested in feeling the thrill of the open sea aroused by a 40-knot wind. Spring and fall are my times, and I like to think the
Maine Wind
feels the same about it.”
    Brie looked out to sea. “I’d guess, from the way things are going out there, that we’ll be experiencing the thrill of swinging at anchor for a few days.”
    John shrugged. “I’m hoping it’ll blow itself out quickly, but you’re probably right.” He sank his hands into his raincoat pockets. “The first day you stopped down at the dock in Camden you said you’d sailed on the Great Lakes—mostly Superior.”
    “Living in Minnesota, it’s the closest you get to the open sea.”
    “When she starts to blow, there’s not a more dangerous piece of water anywhere.”
    Brie studied him with interest. “You’ve sailed Superior?”
    “I skippered a large cruiser out of Duluth for a couple the summer I was twenty-five. They were adventurous types, so I got to see plenty ‘of the big lake they call Gitche Gumme.’ Two years after that, my friend Ben and I sailed a 60-foot schooner from Duluth through the Great Lakes and out the St. Lawrence Seaway. It was September—just late enough in the season to get some big wind. We had our harrowing days on that trip. Believe me, I have nothing but respect for the people who sail those lakes.”
    “They’re a pretty savvy group,” Brie said. “The wave frequency is higher on fresh water, so conditions worsen rapidly. The seas build fast. And Superior is cold—the average temperature hovers around 40 degrees. That fact alone would make a sailor cautious.” She rubbed the tip of her nose. It had been mildly numb for the past hour, and she hoped it wasn’t going to start running.
    A sudden downdraft off the bluff rocked the ship, and she turned and studied the rigging. “Being aboard the
Maine Wind
is quite an experience,” she said. “It’s like a piece of floating history.” She remembered their second morning out, anchored near Crane Island—the ten of them singing sea chanteys as they hauled the canvas sails up the varnished masts.
    “It’s not for everyone,” John said. “But for those who resonate with it and don’t mind roughing it a little, there’s not another experience that will ever match it. I remember a passenger once asked, ‘Is there life after windjamming?’ I think that pretty well sums it up.”
    Brie chuckled. “I like that,” she said. “There’s a part of
me
that could get lost out here and never go back.” She stared out at the riled ocean for a few moments before turning back to him. “So what do you do when you’re not windjamming?” she asked.
    “I run a boat repair business in the off-season. People usually pull their boats out in October, so I stay pretty busy from then until May.” He smiled, and a network of small lines appeared at the corners of his intense