Page 8 of Hook, Line and Mystery

Abby glanced at him, taking in the rugged contours of his face, the passion in his blue eyes, and the way his light brown hair caught the moonlight. An involuntary shiver ran down her spine, leaving her wondering if it was the chill in the air or something else entirely.

Kit held his lantern gently, his eyes reflecting the soft glow. “Have you ever heard of The Mermaid’s Lullaby?” he asked Abby, his voice taking on a softer, almost mystical quality. “It’s a legend around here, one that’s been passed down for generations.”

Abby shook her head. “No, I haven’t. Tell me about it.”

He smiled slightly, nostalgia warming his gaze. “It’s said that long ago there lived a mermaid with a voice so enchanting that even the wind would stop to listen. Each night, she’d sing by the cliffs, her melody carried on the wind.”

Abby leaned in, captivated. “What happened to her?”

“She fell in love with a sailor. Every night, she sang only for him, her songs filled with love and longing. But as fate would have it, a terrible storm rolled in, and he was lost at sea.”

Abby’s hand covered her heart melodramatically. “That’s so sad.”

He grinned, his eyes on the horizon. “They say she still sings him her song, trying to reach across time. Those who believe say it’s a lesson to remind us that even in loss, love endures.”

“And do you believe?”

He chuckled. “Jury’s still out on that.”

“Let me know when they reach a verdict.”

Abby found the story and Kit himself intriguing. The raw emotion in Kit’s storytelling revealed a romanticism she wouldn’t have expected from his conversation in the café earlier in the day—a man deeply connected to the town, the ocean and the legends of both.

He handed one of the lanterns to her. As they released them into the night sky, the tale of the Mermaid’s Lullaby lingered between them, a story of love and longing as timeless as the sea. From somewhere in the distance, Abby was sure she could hear the sound of—if not a mermaid singing—a Celtic harp wafting across the water.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Abby breathed, her eyes shining as she watched the floating lanterns. “The idea of a love so strong that it transcends time and space.”

Kit nodded, his gaze locked on hers. “And sometimes, we find what we’re looking for when we least expect it, don’t we?”

His soft words stirred something inside Abby. The romantic sentiment hung in the air between them, like a magnetic force drawing them towards one another.

“But sometimes,” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the crashing waves below, “when we least expect it, we find exactly what we need.”

As their lanterns ascended along with hundreds more, their flickering light reflected in Kit’s blue eyes. Abby was surprised at how attracted she was to him.

“I heard you in the café earlier today. Your feeling for Badger’s Drift and its people is obvious in the way you talk about them,” she said, breaking into a smile. “I can see how much they mean to you.”

“I appreciate that,” he said with a sheepish grin. “Sometimes I get carried away. The ocean has always fascinated me. I grew up wanting to protect it and those who make their living from it. I thought about joining the Marine Patrol, but decided they offer short-term solutions. I wanted to do something that offered more.”

Abby shook her head, laughing softly. “I think I should warn you: even when I’m writing the most romantic scenes, I sometimes have random thoughts that race across my mind and just slip out of my mouth.”

Kit chuckled. “So, what’s your random thought?”

“The lobster poaching. It’s troubling to think that someone is out there, disrupting the natural balance of things and doing it for money. It’s money they’re after, right?”

“Lots of money—almost four hundred million. It’s a healthy fishery, but I’ve been tracking the reduction in numbers around here.” He shook his head in disgust. “But it’s not just about the lobsters themselves; it’s the impact on the entire socio, economic, and eco systems. Don’t get me wrong, we’ve always had lobsters poached here and there—mainly by somebody just trying to feed their family. Most folks will turn a blind eye to that. But this is so much more than that. It’s so much bigger, so much better organized, and so much more commercialized. These guys are raking in illegal money hand over fist. They need to be stopped, and the Marine Patrol is stretched so thin they can’t do much about it. I’m determined to stop them and see the perpetrators brought to justice.” He shook his head again. “Sorry. I get kind of worked up.”

Abby was drawn not only to Kit but to his commitment to those he saw being endangered. As a writer, she’d felt the pull of the mystery, but now she wanted to do more than just use it in a story. She wanted to be part of finding the solution. The idea of teaming up with the hunky hero to save the town, while kind of schmaltzy, was also appealing, and she was loath to ignore it.

“Never apologize to me for speaking your heart. They say two heads are better than one, right? I might be an outsider, but maybe that gives me a unique perspective. Maybe I can see things that you can’t, and you know a whole lot more about this place, this industry and its people than I do. What do you say we work together?”

“Just like that?” he joked.

“Just like that. I have to tell you we writers are curious creatures by nature. You show us the threads of a good story and we’re inclined to find a way to tie all the loose ends together.”

Kit nodded slowly. “That makes sense,” he said. “I can see where having an outsider’s perspective might be helpful. I might be too close—not just to the industry, but to the people themselves. Maybe working together, we can get to the bottom of whatever’s going on and make things right.”

“And thus, our intrepid heroes joined forces and saved the day,” she said theatrically, making Kit chuckle.

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