The Branson Beauty Read Online Free Page B

coast up to the Beauty . It was packed with men and some big sawlike equipment. And Henry Gallagher. He stood stickstraight in the bow, with his perfectly tailored overcoat fluttering in the now-gusting wind.
    â€œOkay,” the medic said behind him. “Here you go.”
    He started to hand Hank a vial of blood, but Hank shook his head and pulled a set of stickers out of his pocket. “You have to seal it, sign across the sticker, and then initial here,” he said. “Chain of custody.” He glanced at the still-rocking Albert. “Something tells me you’ll have to testify to this at some point.”
    The medic chuckled. “Yeah, when all these people sue this joker. You don’t ruin a bunch of old people’s lunch cruise without there being serious consequences, man.”
    Hank grinned in agreement. Tailored coat or not, he would not want to be Henry Gallagher right now. He wondered what the big boss was doing.
    â€œI’ve got to go check on the paddlewheel removal,” he said. “I’m going to have to ask you to stay with him.”
    Medic One frowned, but Hank was already out the door. By the time he’d made his way down to the paddlewheel, he could hear the whine of saws. The men wielding them looked to be having a great time attacking the huge wooden beams. Bill and Commander Ramrod stood off to the side.
    â€œWhere’s Gallagher?” Hank asked.
    â€œI think he went upstairs,” Bill said. “Something about checking on his guests.”
    Sam appeared at Hank’s elbow. The little group watched with a certain wicked enjoyment as the paddlewheel was severed from the boat. As the workers got to the last connecting piece, a horn blast cut through the frigid air.
    â€œThat would be my tug,” the commander said with a smile.
    It nosed in slowly and bumped against the Beauty . The commander nodded, and the two men holding the saw gave one last slice. The Beauty swung free.
    *   *   *
    The snow fell in devilish swirls around the passengers as they slowly filed down the walkways to a long gangplank that led them—finally—to solid ground. All of Larry’s guys and every available gurney in the county had come aboard first; no matter how crotchety and independent, no old folks had any desire to roll their wheelchairs through the icy gusts and onto shore. They submitted to the firefighters’ transport with a minimum of grumbling. Small favors, Hank thought. He found Tony putting masking-tape name tags on the many chairs left behind.
    â€œCome on,” he said. “I need you to take me through the whole boat. We have to make sure everyone’s off.”
    Tony hesitated and looked down at the roll of tape in his hands. “Yes, sir,” he said. He stuffed the tape roll in his pocket and led the way.
    The main showroom was empty. Abandoned water bottles and coffee cups littered the tables. Many of the chairs and tables had been pushed back against the walls. “It was pretty cool, sir,” Tony said. “They were all doing yoga. That one skinny guy with the ponytail had the idea. He got up on the stage and had them doing all kinds of stuff. It really calmed everybody down. Do you know there’s something called a downward dog?”
    Hank just smiled. “What’s behind the stage?” he asked. Tony led him through the maze of kitchens and dressing rooms. There was no one left. They headed upstairs. There were only three passengers and two medics left in the observation lounge. A very old lady was sitting regally on a gurney.
    â€œâ€¦ and there is no way, young man, that I have any intention of lying down and being carted off this snake-bit ship like an invalid. If you want me on this thing, I’m going like this.” She folded her hands in her lap with a definitiveness that signaled that the conversation was over.
    Hank had no desire to start it up again. He yanked Tony’s