Page 51 of Smuggler's Cove
“I guess I was thinking more about pirates,” she said, suppressing a giggle.
“We have them, too. But they don’t wear bandanas and patches over their eye anymore.” He smiled. “This area is steeped in pirate and privateer history.”
“What’s the difference?” Madison knew the answer but asked anyway. She simply wanted to hear the man’s deep, sultry voice again.
“Pirates are considered bandits and live outside the bounds of the law. Privateers are commissioned by the government or sovereign power to legally do their pilfering.” He shifted his weight to keep the sun out of Madison’s eyes.
“Interesting.” She gave him a wry smile. “Sounds like insurance companies.” She giggled.Was she flirting?Her best friend Olivia seemed to think so by the little nudge she gave Madison under the table.
Captain Eriksson laughed. “You have a point, Ms. Wainwright.”
“Please. Call me Madison.”
“Certainly, Madison.” He nodded.
“Detective Burton told me there was a young man who carried my uncle’s papers to New York. He is out on a tuna boat, and we have to wait until he gets back. I do not suppose there’s any chance you could go out and fetch him?” she asked innocently.
Eriksson chuckled. “Sorry. No chance. Unless they get capsized, which doesn’t seem likely. They have good weather predicted.”
It was worth a shot, Madison thought to herself. “Of course. I suppose I am a little anxious about all of this.”
“Understandable,” he replied.
Lincoln noticed a scraggly dude hobbling in their direction. He was wearing a Grateful Dead T-shirt that had to be as old as the hills behind them. His shorts were ripped above the knees, and his tanned feet clomped in a pair of flip-flops. “Howdy! The name is Crusty,” he said, and snickered. “For crustaceans.”
Madison had a different interpretation, then silently admonished herself for having a mean thought. He held three wrapped clam sandwiches in his hands. “Hannah says I should give these to you. You’re Kirby’s kin?”
“Yes. I am Lincoln. This is my sister, Madison, and my wife, Olivia.” He availed himself of the rolls with the crispy seafood.
“Good to meetcha.” Crusty wiped his hands on his shorts. “We was sorry about Kirby. He and I used to fish every morning until my lumbago started acting up. So, I’d wait for the boats to come back and help clean the fish and the traps.”
“I am sure he is going to be missed.” Lincoln was getting a better picture of his uncle and his friends. The opposite from his father. Lincoln wondered if his father ever had any real friends.
“Well, I’ll let you fine folks enjoy your lunch. Hannah makes a mean roll. And her tartar sauce”—he kissed his fingertips—“good stuff.” He turned and began to walk toward the food truck.
“Crusty?” Lincoln stopped him. “If you don’t mind, perhaps one day you can tell me more about my uncle. We hadn’t seen him in an exceptionally long time.”
“Sure thing, young man. You can find me here most any day, except during a nor’easter.” He shuffled his way back to his gang.
Captain Eriksson cleared his throat. “I should be going. Enjoy your lunch.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out two business cards. He handed one to Lincoln and Madison. “I’ll be in touch. In the meantime, if you think of anything, or have any questions, please feel free to reach out.”
Madison quickly rifled through her bag, but before she could dig deeper, Olivia was handing one of Madison’s cards to the captain. He looked at the card and then at Madison. “Editor in Chief.” He tapped the card against his fingers.
“And, if you have any questions . . .” She let her words hang in the air.
He smiled and placed her card in his breast pocket. “Enjoy the rest of this beautiful day.”
Olivia waited for the striking officer to be out of earshot.“Muy caliente!”She raised her eyebrows at her sister-in-law and fanned her face.
Madison smiled. She could not have agreed more.
They took their time enjoying the local cuisine and atmosphere. Lincoln nudged his sister. “Good clams, eh?”
“I must admit it. This is delicious.” She wiped some tartar sauce from the side of her lips. “Not even greasy.” She made favorable noises as she took another bite.
“I think this place is starting to grow on you,” Lincoln noted.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Madison laughed. They finished their lunch and went over to the truck to thank Hannah and Charlie and bid their farewells.
