Page 38 of Bait and Switch (Subtle Deceptions #2)

TWENTY-THREE

Gabriel

Late Thursday

Gabe shivered and hunched into his Casey-jacket to avoid the wind’s chilly fingers.

There was a decidedly icy nip to the air, but at least it wasn’t actively raining, a welcome change from the weather of the past few days.

Inserting the key he’d borrowed from Elton into the padlock, Gabe twisted it and let himself onto the dock.

Closing the gate behind him, he slowly made his way toward The Barbara .

His footsteps echoed hollowly over the dark water of Riddle Bay while he mulled over what he wanted to say to Casey.

That in and of itself was out of the ordinary—Gabe wasn’t exactly known for planning conversations.

And he just didn’t do relationship conversations.

Christ, he was exhausted. Bone fucking tired. After stuffing themselves to the point of pain at the Geoduck, they had been quiet on the drive back to the old man’s place. There was too much to think about, especially for Casey and Elton. Gabe’s involvement had been pure chance—which was remarkable.

“I’m heading out,” Casey had announced in a tone that said he wasn’t going to listen to arguments against his decision. “There’s a lot of thinking for me to do.”

Almost before he or Elton could respond, Casey had gathered up Bowie and was gone.

“I don’t think Casey should be alone with his thoughts for long. That boy has a tendency to brood,” Elton had told him after watching Casey drive off. “Keith and I will be fine here, I’m gonna put my feet up and pretend to work on the crossword puzzle. Take the truck.”

He’d been dismissed. Practically ordered to check up on Casey. So here Gabe was, and there was The Barbara at the end of the pier, bobbing in Riddle Bay, back in the spot she belonged. But did Gabe belong here? He didn’t know. Belonging was foreign to him.

Now is not the time to reflect on your upbringing, Chance.

Fine.

Gabe didn’t like that Casey was alone either, it didn’t sit well with him. But why? What was his purpose in coming out here? Was it for Casey or himself? When did Gabe become the cheer-up committee for moody park rangers?

In a flash of brilliance, he’d stopped at Norskland General Store and picked up ice cream, a quart of The Duc and the Earl .

A nice touch, he thought. The Earl Grey tea flavor with French madeleines mixed in was incredible, and Casey seemed to have a sweet tooth.

And he’d also picked up something else—no one could say Gabe didn’t pay attention.

He couldn’t stop remembering Casey asking Agent Boyd when his brother would be freed.

And about how long Casey had been alone, not just tonight.

He’d been abandoned by his parents. They’d left him to fight for Mickie on his own—for reasons even Gabe couldn’t imagine justifying.

Heidi had had her faults, but Gabe knew in his heart that she never would’ve left him behind like that.

People on the island were going to be talking about this day for years.

Gabe couldn’t begin to imagine the sheer number of cases investigators were going to have to go through.

The innocent—and even not-so-innocent—who’d been caught up in the Rizzi-Stevens machine were going to maybe get a chance again.

People like Mickie Lundin, whose twenties and thirties had been stolen from him. The whole thing made Gabe feel sick to his stomach. He realized he’d stopped walking and forced his feet to start moving again. His target was Casey Lundin. What he had to do was get there, he’d ad-lib the rest.

That morning while Gabe, Elton, and Casey had been witnessing history and then answering a million questions, the fire marshal had left a voicemail for Casey saying that, while the Ticket and Shangri-La were losses, the pier itself was declared safe.

Thank fuck because Gabe knew he wouldn’t have been up to rowing himself out to The Barbara tonight.

Forty might be the new twenty—maybe it was the new thirty—but at forty-four and counting, he was still closer to fifty, and the past few days had been stressful.

What was he even thinking coming out here? Other than the fact that a bossy old man had told him to.

Put a pin in it.

Christ.

He loathed the phrase “We need to talk,” or anything remotely related to those words, but Casey had been the one to kiss him last night.

Casey did not seem like the type of person to casually kiss—Gabe totally was, but never Ranger Man.

Therefore, the kiss was important and meant something, and Gabe wanted that.

He wanted to be important to Casey. Thus, they needed to talk.

Gabe reasoned that he also wanted to distract his brain from what had gone down at the Twana County Sheriff’s Office today, and Ranger Man would do.

The man is more than a distraction, Chance.

Stevens’s confession and accusations had already set a great deal in motion, including, Gabe hoped, the imminent release of Casey’s brother. But sorting out the fuckery wasn’t going to happen tonight. Another reason Gabe had decided to interrupt Ranger Man’s evening. Surely the man wasn’t asleep.

Before Gabe drew close enough to knock on The Barbara’s hull, Casey emerged from the cabin onto the deck.

“Don’t take up a new career that requires sneakiness.”

“Wasn’t trying to be sneaky. You wouldn’t know I was coming if I was trying to be quiet. Permission to board?”

“You’re asking permission? Again, that doesn’t seem very Charming Fucker of you.”

“Ha, ha, ha. I brought an offering. Ice cream.”

“What flavor?”

“The Duc and the Earl, from Jewel Creamery.” Gabe held the bag up for Casey to see. “I got to taste-test it, surprisingly delicious.”

“Well, in that case, come aboard.”

Casey led the way into The Barbara’s cabin, where Bowie greeted Gabe with a tail thump.

“Have a seat and let me grab a couple bowls and spoons,” he said, toeing off his moccasin-style slippers.

Gabe hung up his jacket and set his boots next to Casey’s before claiming a spot on the curved bench seat. “Still jealous of your table.” Unlike the one on the Ticket , Casey’s table was big enough to spread out at without bumping elbows.

Opening a cabinet, Casey got out bowls, one blue and one gray.

“Sorry, I don’t really care if my dishware matches,” he said, then added two spoons and sat across from Gabe.

“No worries.” Gabe opened the bag with a flourish.

“Ice cream also does not care.” He pulled out the quart-size container and set it on the table before reaching back in.

“I brought these too. They were not easy to find.” Next to the bowls, he set the flat wooden spoons Barry had found for him in the stockroom of the grocery store.

“But I draw the line at the ‘frozen dessert’ these things normally accompany.”

A genuine smile curved Casey’s lips, and he reached out and slid one of the wood spoons toward himself. “You remembered.”

“Of course I remembered. I’m not in my dotage yet.”

A smiling Casey Lundin was—a lot. Gabe had already known he was in trouble when his main objective was to get more of that. To have Casey smile at him like he was a weird flat wooden spoon. Go figure.

“Not too far into it anyway,” Casey snarked, peeling the lid off the ice cream.

“Hey,” Gabe protested, “I’ve got a few good miles left in me. No guarantees about the rest though.”

Casey used one of the metal spoons to scoop their dessert into the bowls. “I bet you have plenty of mileage on you. But maybe I should kick the tires a few times before committing. Do you come with a thirty-day warranty?”

Gabe laughed, he couldn’t help himself. This flirtation, or whatever this was, was unlike anything he’d experienced in the past. He’d never taken things this slowly. But considering this was Casey Lundin, slow was probably a good thing.

“About last night—” Gabe started.

“A terrible movie, by the way.”

He wasn’t wrong, but Gabe refused to be sidetracked. He was a man on a mission.

“Nice try, Ranger Man. Look, I’m just gonna say it. I know we got off on the wrong foot, what with the trespassing thing and your general ‘follow the rules’ stance.” Gabe laughed at Casey’s raised eyebrow. “Okay, maybe it was the sexy devil-may-care attitude I bring to the yard. But?—”

“Yes.”

Gabe felt his eyebrows shoot upward. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, let’s see where this goes.” Casey waved a hand back and forth between them. “Warning, it’s been a long time since I’ve dated. But for reasons I cannot fathom, Bowie likes you and Greta is sure she will.”

“She hasn’t met me yet, but that problem is easily solved. Of course she’ll love me.”

“I think it’s your modesty that intrigues me,” Casey said, but his smile stayed in place. “You did bring the funky spoons.”

“See? I can think of others.”

Gabe relaxed against the back of the bench, pleased with himself.

“What’s yours?” Casey asked.

“What’s my what?”

“What’s your wooden spoon?” Casey held up the spoon-shaped plywood.

Gabe opened his mouth to say something probably something stupid, but the thing was?—

“I don’t have one.”

Casey frowned. “You don’t have a sentimental memory?

Something that you’ve saved for a rainy day?

A recollection you set aside to bring out when you feel nostalgic?

” He held the spoon up. “When I see these ridiculous spoons, I think of when my family used to visit Long Beach—the world’s longest beach, supposedly.

Anyway, we’d always go to Marsh’s Free Museum, and Mom would let us get the little cups of ice cream. ”

“Uh, yeah, no.” Gabe shook his head. “Nope. Heidi, my mother, did not take vacations. She was maybe the least sentimental person I’ve ever known. I can’t think of a single nostalgic memory.”

Sentiment doesn’t pay the rent, Chance.

“Well,” Casey said, shooting him an unexpectedly gentle look, “maybe we can create one.”

Gabe blinked moisture out of his eyes.

“There’s a lot of dust in here.” There was no dust. The Barbara was the very definition of shipshape.

After one last drag around the insides his bowl, Casey set it and plywood splinter down. “That was incredible. Excellent choice. Now, um, uh, do you want to see my etchings?”

“What? Etchings?” Gabe asked, looking up from his also empty bowl, confused by the abrupt change of subject. Ice cream to etchings, what the hell.

“I keep them near my bunk.” He snorted a laugh and shook his head. “I’m so not good at this, I don’t do this”—he waved a hand between them—“very often.”

“Ohhh.” Gabe nodded and allowed a wise-ass smile to curve his lips. “Yes, please, I’d love to see your etchings. Did people really fall for that back in the day?”

Casey stood up and set the empty crockery in the sink.

“No idea, you’re the elder in this scenario.”