The Cove by Rick Hautala Page B

up. “Stuff came up. You know how it is.”
    Ben nodded even though he could only guess at what “stuff” Richie was involved with. When it came to The Crowbar, it was best to be polite and not pry too deeply. Richie was a nice guy … generous to a fault, but the less Ben had to do with him, the better.
    “It’s a nice boat,” Ben said, simply to make conversation.
    “ Ought’a be,” Richie said. “I paid enough for the fucker.” He glanced again at Julia and said, “ Pardonay moi again.”
    “No problem,” Julia said smiling at Richie. Ben shook his head. You had to hand it to Richie; he had a way with the ladies. But he was genuinely taken aback by what Richie had said. He had paid for the Abby-Rose ? No. He financed it, more likely.
    Ben was wondering if maybe Richie shouldn’t have let that slip, but he knew Richie well enough to know he never let anything slip without intending to.
    Ben knew his father would have had a problem getting a bank loan for his new boat after losing the Sheila B. last fall. The first night Ben was home, Wally had gone on and on about his looming financial problems. The sad truth was, most fishermen — no matter how good their credit, prospects, or reputation around town — found it pretty much impossible to get a bank loan for a new boat after they’d lost one at sea. He was considered an “unlucky” captain. With insurance sky-high and the price of fuel going up just about daily, the lobster industry was all but dying.
    At the time, Ben hadn’t given it much thought, but now he was sure his father had been forced — if “forced” was the right word — into dealing with Richie.
    And Ben knew what that meant.
    It meant a few more trips, preferably on foggy days or at night out into international waters to pick up bales of weed and maybe a few packages of cocaine and heroin that he would offload in a sheltered cove later that night. His stomach twisted at the thought of his father being obligated in any way to a man like Richie. Not that Richie was a bad guy. He just had certain expectations if you dealt with him, and the consequences of not paying him back had serious repercussions.
    “So who’s the young lady?” Richie asked after looking at Julia again and studying her more carefully.
    It was a rare day — like today — that Richie didn’t have his wife or another gorgeous woman hanging on his arm. The last thing Ben wanted to do was make it easy for Richie to turn the charm on Julia.
    “Friend of mine. Julia Meadows. Julia. This is Richie Sullivan.”
    “Pleased to meet you,” Julia said in an uncharacteristic sweet voice as she extended her hand. Their eyes met and held for longer than Ben liked as they shook hands.
    “Likewise,” Richie said. “So you live in The Cove?”
    “I moved to town recently … to help out my father.”
    Richie smacked his lips and shook his head.
    “Yeah. Getting’ old. Ain’t it a bitch? Like they say — now it takes me all night to do what I used to do all night, if you catch my drift.”
    “I certainly do,” Julia said with a wry smile.
    Ben couldn’t decide if she was actually intrigued by Richie or if she was mocking him, but he admired the way she gave it right back to him. She had spunk and clearly was confident that she could hold her own with Richie.
    It occurred to him that the way he got jumped last night had all the hallmarks of a gentle Crowbar warning. He watched and listened as Julie and Richie bantered back and forth for a bit. His eyes narrowed as he wondered if they knew each other much better than either of them was letting on.
    “Well,” Richie said. He raised his arms and stretched them back and rotated his head from side to side until something in his neck popped. “I don’t wanna interrupt youse any more than I already have.”
    He stuck his hand into his trousers’ pocket and came up with a roll of bills in a money clip. After licking his thumb, he peeled off a fresh hundred-dollar bill and