Page 45 of No One Aboard
Rylan.
“Oh,” Rylan said when he saw them.
The anchor locker was barely comfortable with two people and a guitar inside. With three of them, it seemed like a coffin.
“Sorry... didn’t mean to interrupt something.” Rylan smiled at Nico. His eyes were red.
“Hey, Rylan,” Nico said smoothly. “Here to join?”
Tia shifted. Selfishly, she was glad she’d gotten a moment to mourn without him.
Now she just felt uncomfortable.
Rylan squatted in front of them. “What were you guys talking about?”
“Boat inspections,” Tia said, as Nico answered, “Life.”
“Life and boat inspections...” Rylan repeated.
“What is life if not one giant boat inspection?” Nico tried at a joke.
“Why’d you come here, Ry?” Tia turned to her brother, trying to sound gentle.
“Looking for you,” he admitted. Rylan was taller than both Tia and Nico, but now, folded up like a tent pole, he seemed tiny. “Were you playing music?”
“Yeah,” Nico said. “For MJ. We figured she’d have liked a good chantey.”
“Can I hear?” Rylan asked. He looked so sad that Tia nearly felt guilty for being cold toward him.
“We can do one more, I guess,” she said. Rylan’s fear might have cost MJ her life, and she wasn’t sure she would ever forget that. But he was her twin. He was her best friend. He was the only one who had been there since the beginning, even when Tia’s parents turned away.
“Encore it is, then,” Nico said, and he returned the dreadnought guitar to his lap to play.
Chapter 23
Jerry Baugh
The liquor store had been picked to the bones by the time the rain started. Hurricane Ida had sent every man, woman, and child to the shelter of their homes. Everyone, it seemed, besides Jerry Baugh and the pimply liquor store attendant.
Jerry scooped up a case of Bud Light, the only thing left on the shelf of refrigerated beverages. He thumbed through his slender wallet as the attendant, who Jerry could scarcely believe was old enough tobein this place, let alone run it, checked him out.
“Your total is seventeen dollars and seventeen cents, sir.”
Jerry dropped a sweaty twenty on the counter. “Keep the change,” he said, then, before he could feel too generous, added, “And stay in school.”
He shouldered through the door. The wind hit him like a slap in the face as he hobbled down the empty street. The marina was a six-minute walk at most, but it took him ten just to reach the street corner opposite the sea. Palm trees bowed to the authority of the wind, and Jerry Baugh proved no exception as he found himself stumbling into a boarded-up window. He adjusted the case of beer. Last thing he needed was a massive gust to knock him over and shatter his chance at an inebriated storm watch.
The crosswalk sign told him to wait as a single truck, its bed overflowing with plywood and Coca-Cola, slid through the intersection. Jerry grunted and glanced at the window he’d run into.
Hallandale Coast Guard Station.
The lettering on the glass was visible between slats of wood. Jerry peered past the letters to where he could make out an office light deep in the belly of the building.
What kinda cop was still at work filing paperwork in a hurricane?
He knew the answer before he even saw the fist-thick braid of hair and ramrod shoulders. Brenna Madden sat at her desk, typing away.
Jerry squinted at the rain, which had started to come in sideways, then banged a hand on the door. He waited until Madden stood in the doorway, confused and displeased.
