Page 205
Story: Hidden Nature
“We barely picked our spot. We haven’t even caught anything yet.”
“You talk to Nat at the bait shop. I bet he’ll help you with that. Got your Maryland fishing licenses?”
Both of them reached for the inside pocket of their windbreakers.
“And two PFDs on board?”
The one reached under his seat in the stern.
“Good enough. Y’all reel it in now and head over to Rendle’s. Tell them Sloan sent you. With shiners and Nat’s advice, I’m betting you’ll be cooking up some bass for dinner tonight.”
“Smooth,” Elana judged when the outboard putted its way east. “Nice and smooth.”
“They either didn’t know about the restriction or thought they could get away with it. I lean toward the first, but either way, we could’ve fined them. This way, they don’t get pissy, they do it right, and they’ll go back to New Jersey with some nice memories.”
“Including the hot chicks in uniform.”
“Obviously. You take the wheel awhile. We’ll head over to that kayaker trying to get pictures of the swans. She gets any closer, Daddy’s going to capsize her.”
“I love this job!”
“It shows.”
“Really?” Elana sent Sloan a long, hopeful look. “I know my eval’s coming up in a week or two, and I didn’t know a walleye from a shiner.”
“But you will because you love this job. Let’s see how you handle the kayaker.”
A day on the water gave Sloan a yen for fish and chips. She considered getting an order for one, then heading home and diving into yet another search on missings.
Instead, she chose option B and texted Nash.
I’m picking up fish and chips on my way home. I can pick up two orders if you’re not busy. Payment for dinner would include letting me bounce off the last couple days of basically nothing on the missing.
She sat, parked at the curb as she waited for his reply. And leaning back, eyes closed, didn’t notice the car that drove slowly past, or the woman passenger who pulled down the brim of a floppy hat to hide the side of her face.
I’m never too busy when someone’s bringing dinner. Don’t forget the hush puppies. Come to my place and check out the progress.
Smiling she texted back:
I never forget hush puppies. See you inside an hour. Should I pick up for Theo and Drea?
They’re heading out in a bit for pizza and bowling with Robo and his girl. Another first.
Thinking of the double date, Sloan hit a heart emoji as acknowledgment. And had stepped onto the curb when it hit her Nash might think she’d hearted him.
Embarrassing? she wondered. Then shook it away with a mental: Oh well.
Inside, she placed the order, then decided to take the waiting time with a walk. Boat duty meant she hadn’t put in her usual miles on her feet.
The town had its stone tubs full of spring mixes. Daffs and hyacinths, tulips, narcissus. Light jackets replaced winter parkas, and shop windows advertised spring sales.
She considered the wind chimes in one, and promised herself she’d come back, pick one out for her front porch. And she’d take time in a few more weeks to go to the nursery, find just the right pots for flowers for the porch.
Maybe more if she followed through on plans for the patio in the back. Maybe.
As she turned, she noticed the woman across the street. Sunglasses, floppy pink hat over brown hair. About five-four and a hundred and fifty.
She couldn’t see the face clearly, but something struck her as familiar.
“You talk to Nat at the bait shop. I bet he’ll help you with that. Got your Maryland fishing licenses?”
Both of them reached for the inside pocket of their windbreakers.
“And two PFDs on board?”
The one reached under his seat in the stern.
“Good enough. Y’all reel it in now and head over to Rendle’s. Tell them Sloan sent you. With shiners and Nat’s advice, I’m betting you’ll be cooking up some bass for dinner tonight.”
“Smooth,” Elana judged when the outboard putted its way east. “Nice and smooth.”
“They either didn’t know about the restriction or thought they could get away with it. I lean toward the first, but either way, we could’ve fined them. This way, they don’t get pissy, they do it right, and they’ll go back to New Jersey with some nice memories.”
“Including the hot chicks in uniform.”
“Obviously. You take the wheel awhile. We’ll head over to that kayaker trying to get pictures of the swans. She gets any closer, Daddy’s going to capsize her.”
“I love this job!”
“It shows.”
“Really?” Elana sent Sloan a long, hopeful look. “I know my eval’s coming up in a week or two, and I didn’t know a walleye from a shiner.”
“But you will because you love this job. Let’s see how you handle the kayaker.”
A day on the water gave Sloan a yen for fish and chips. She considered getting an order for one, then heading home and diving into yet another search on missings.
Instead, she chose option B and texted Nash.
I’m picking up fish and chips on my way home. I can pick up two orders if you’re not busy. Payment for dinner would include letting me bounce off the last couple days of basically nothing on the missing.
She sat, parked at the curb as she waited for his reply. And leaning back, eyes closed, didn’t notice the car that drove slowly past, or the woman passenger who pulled down the brim of a floppy hat to hide the side of her face.
I’m never too busy when someone’s bringing dinner. Don’t forget the hush puppies. Come to my place and check out the progress.
Smiling she texted back:
I never forget hush puppies. See you inside an hour. Should I pick up for Theo and Drea?
They’re heading out in a bit for pizza and bowling with Robo and his girl. Another first.
Thinking of the double date, Sloan hit a heart emoji as acknowledgment. And had stepped onto the curb when it hit her Nash might think she’d hearted him.
Embarrassing? she wondered. Then shook it away with a mental: Oh well.
Inside, she placed the order, then decided to take the waiting time with a walk. Boat duty meant she hadn’t put in her usual miles on her feet.
The town had its stone tubs full of spring mixes. Daffs and hyacinths, tulips, narcissus. Light jackets replaced winter parkas, and shop windows advertised spring sales.
She considered the wind chimes in one, and promised herself she’d come back, pick one out for her front porch. And she’d take time in a few more weeks to go to the nursery, find just the right pots for flowers for the porch.
Maybe more if she followed through on plans for the patio in the back. Maybe.
As she turned, she noticed the woman across the street. Sunglasses, floppy pink hat over brown hair. About five-four and a hundred and fifty.
She couldn’t see the face clearly, but something struck her as familiar.
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