SeaChange Read Online Free PDF Page B

interesting guy, sort of a detective, but
mostly he’s retired. He believes in taking his retirement in chunks, whenever
he can afford it. Whenever he has enough money, he retires until he runs out,
then he just takes a job ‘til he can afford to retire again.”
    “And what does this fictional character have to do with the
real-life Jake?”
    “Well, he’s pretty much my role model. I made a healthy bit
before the tech stocks crashed, so I can afford to be a beach bum.”
    “Okay, I think I get it.”
    “I have enough to stay retired, but once in a while I do odd
jobs, like finding things, mostly to break up the boredom.”
    “Finding things? Like what?”
    “Missing ex-spouses. Stolen cars. Whatever people want
found.”
    “So you’re a detective.”
    “Not exactly. In most places that requires a license, and I’ve
never stayed in one place long enough to acquire one of those. I just find
things.” And do the occasional odd job for a handful of government agencies, he
thought. But he didn’t tell her that.
    “Got it.” She laughed, raised her coffee cup. “Here’s to
avoiding license fees.”
    He clinked cups with her, then drank a bit of the dark,
strong coffee.
    * * * * *
    Heidi sat in the overly air-conditioned Coast Guard station
on what had to be the world’s most uncomfortable molded plastic chair and
resisted the urge to bang her head on the table. She’d been over her story a
thousand times, her head hurt, she was freezing, and she still hadn’t had
anything to eat since the cookies on the boat. She supposed she could have
legally gotten up and left, but she didn’t have enough emotional or physical
energy left for that fight.
    Jake insisted on going with her to the Coast Guard. She
tried to tell him she could handle it on her own, but she didn’t try too hard.
This was going to be scary enough. It was nice to know that Jake had her back.
He hadn’t seen everything, but he’d witnessed the chase, the shooting, and seen
the cigarette boat. That should lend some credence to her story. And more than
anything else, just knowing he was standing behind her helped her feel a little
less alone.
    Of course they were separated the minute they’d made their
initial report. Heidi should have seen that coming, but then, having never been
interrogated before, she supposed she could forgive herself for not knowing
what to expect.
    It wasn’t fun, and it didn’t resemble CSI or Law
and Order . Not one stinking bit. For one thing, the drab little room was
nowhere near as comfortable or clean as the ones shown on TV. For another
thing, the criminals on the shows never had to beg just to be allowed to go to
the bathroom. Over the next four hours, Heidi was grilled by everyone from an
impossibly young Coast Guard lieutenant to a tired-looking woman detective from
the SDPD to a heavyset man from the freaking FBI. She wouldn’t have been
surprised if the parade had included the mayor of San Diego, the Chargers’
defensive line, or the building janitor. She told them all the same thing. They’d
seen the plane drop crates, saw the cigarette boat pick them up, then they’d
been shot at and chased. She described the wreck ‘til she couldn’t talk over
the tears. No, she hadn’t gotten a clear view of any of the shooters; she’d put
her head down as soon as they’d started firing. No, there had been no name or
numbers that she’d seen on the cigarette boat, which was white, she thought,
though it could have been cream or even pale blue. It had been dark.
    She explained that she’d been knocked out, hadn’t seen what
happened to Brad. She even showed them the bruise on her temple to prove it,
which earned her a rough examination from a Coast Guard medic and, thankfully,
a couple of ibuprofen. Heidi also told her questioners about being rescued by
Jake, and that he said he’d searched for Brad for a long time. She cried a lot,
and by midafternoon her head was pounding so hard it felt like the building