Page 43 of Smuggler’s Cove (Twin Lights #1)

Chapter Seventeen

The Start of Something

T he following weekend, Lincoln took an early ferry to the Highlands. He was anxious and excited to see how much had been done. Charlie picked him up and began to rattle off everything that had transpired.

“Got the dumpster and started ripping up the bad planks. I think you might want to consider replacing all of ’em.” He tooted his horn and waved at someone walking their dog. “I know it ain’t in the budget, but it will look a heck of a lot better.”

“What kind of money are you talking about?” Lincoln was prepared for “extras”; just how much was the big question. He hoped he could answer affirmatively.

“Prob’ly another two grand.”

Lincoln breathed a sigh of relief. He had set aside five thousand for unforeseen expenses. “We can do that. I want the place to look good.”

“With the new shed, and new planks, it’s gonna look brand-spankin’ new.” He pulled his truck next to Hannah’s.

When Lincoln saw the new materials, he realized Charlie was right. Not that he had any doubts, but the contrast between the old, splintered planks and the new ones was considerable. “Good call, Charlie.”

Charlie walked Lincoln around the job site and explained the process, what was going where, and the timeline.

“If we keep getting good weather, the piers should be done in two weeks. The shed is coming down tomorrow. I got a couple of guys who are going to break it down and toss the pieces into the dumpster.”

Lincoln stopped. “I better take a look inside and see if there is anything worth salvaging.”

“I already got the gear out—traps, lines, rakes, and all.”

“What about the maps?”

“I figure you’d want to check ’em out. See if there was anything you or your sister may wanna keep. Ya know, a keepsake sorta thing.”

Lincoln thought Madison might want to use them to decorate the walls of the new shed. She had a knack for repurposing things. “Thanks. I’ll take a look.”

Crusty appeared out of nowhere, something he was prone to do. “Howdy, boss!” He gave a huge wave.

“Howdy, Crusty. I see you’ve been hard at work.” Lincoln noticed the pile of old wood in the dumpster.

“We’re gonna take down the shed, but Charlie here said to wait for you.”

“Yes. I appreciate it.” Lincoln walked down the dock, which led to the shack.

He began to unpin the maps from the fishing line when he noticed something wedged between the wallboards.

He took one of the fishing hooks and pried it out.

Another map. A very old one. He set it on the crooked table and began to unfold it.

It appeared to be a rudimentary drawing of a river bend with markings of trees.

He separated it from the others and put it in his back pocket.

He’d take a closer look when he got back to Madison’s.

He rolled the other maps and tied them with a fishing line.

As he went through the remaining items, he realized there was more that should get a second look. He called over to Charlie. “Do you have a box I can put all this stuff in?”

“Nothin’ that don’t smell like fish,” Charlie scoffed.

Lincoln spotted Hannah waddling toward him with a trash bag. “This here is clean.”

“Thanks, Hannah. You always seem to have what everyone needs.”

“I try to be prepared for any eventuality.”

Lincoln then realized Hannah was more than a nice person who made an awesome clam sandwich.

She too was sharp and a lot smarter than she made known.

It reminded Lincoln of when he was at Hackley and another student was from Louisiana.

He made the mistake of thinking the student was not as smart as the rest of them because he had a drawl.

That was the last time Lincoln prejudged someone.

Or so he thought. Preconceived notions sometimes lay dormant in our heads.

He thought about Madison’s original biased views about Smuggler’s Cove and recognized how easily it could happen.

He made a mental note to watch himself for those tendencies and correct them.

Lincoln proceeded to collect anything that could be deemed personal. “Hey, Charlie? Could you swing by the house before I catch the ferry? I’d rather leave this bag here than drag it to the city just to end up bringing it back.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Charlie echoed Crusty’s salutation.

Boss . Lincoln snickered. He could not recall ever being referred to as boss . Sir. Professor . An occasional Dude . Never boss . “It’s my sister that’s the boss. At least we pretend she is,” he said, and laughed.

The men sat at the picnic table to review the next steps. Much to Lincoln’s surprise, Charlie opened a laptop. See, another misconception? He silently admonished himself.

“If y’all can send me that spreadsheet, it would make things easier. I’d be able to send you an update via email at the end of each day.”

“You should have said something sooner,” Lincoln remarked.

“I didn’t want you to think I was being too pushy and all, getting into your private papers.”

“Heck, no! It was foolish of me not to ask.” Lincoln shook his head. He reached into his portfolio and opened his laptop. “What’s your email address?”

“Charliesgotclams at gmail-dot-com. We figured it was better than Charlie’s got crabs!” he hooted.

Lincoln burst out laughing. “Excellent point.” He typed it in and sent Charlie the Excel spreadsheet.

“This is how I keep track of Hannah’s business. She’s not keen on computers. Says they suck the brains outta people.”

“I can understand her point. Question: do you engage in social media?”

“Nah. If anything sucks the brains outta you, it’s all of them platforms and apps.”

“Madison likes to say that her idea of an app is something you eat before dinner.” Lincoln chuckled.

“Ha! Can’t say I disagree.” Charlie laughed.

They finally wrapped up their business for the day and headed to the house, where Lincoln left the bag of memorabilia. “I think Madison is coming down next weekend.”

“I think she’s gonna really like it here.”

“I think you are right,” Lincoln replied.

* * *

Charlie brought him back to the ferry landing, and Lincoln boarded the boat. He asked a crew member how long a ten-trip booklet would last.

“Ten trips,” was the answer.

“Sorry. I should have asked, does the book expire?”

“Ha! Yeah. But not for a couple months. It says on the back.”

“Thanks.” Lincoln decided it would make sense if each of them had a book and purchased three.

It would save a little money and time, especially if they were “runners” again.

He ordered scotch and soda, settled into a booth, and stared at the passing scenery.

It was a very civilized means of transportation.

When they reached the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge, he called Madison to see if she was going to be home. He wanted to show her the map.

“Ooh. Do you think it might be the mysterious treasure map?” Madison said with excitement.

“Don’t get too excited. We can take a look at it together.” He checked his watch. “I should be at your place within the hour. Is Livvy there?”

“Olivia is on her way. I will order food. Greek?”

“Works for me. See ya.”

Olivia, Lincoln, and the food delivery arrived at the same time.

Madison brought out dishes, napkins, and flatware, while Olivia put the food in serving platters and bowls.

It was one of the house rules. Even if you have food delivered, you eat it in real dishes.

Lunch in plastic containers was as uncouth as Madison would allow.

Lincoln filled them in on the progress and how surprised he was about Charlie’s level of technology.

Madison chastened him, “I know I have done the same thing. We have truly underestimated those fine people.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” Lincoln replied.

“I’ve been thinking about this and the recent discussions about nature verses nurture.”

“My money is on Mom as far as our values are concerned. And let’s not forget about Jackson.”

“I would rather forget about him altogether.” Madison frowned.

“What I am trying to say is, perhaps we got some preconceived ideas from him. He was always touting how we are better than other people. Richer. Smarter. It had to have an impact in some way,” Lincoln noted.

“You make a good point. For him, it was about more—but not necessarily more tolerance, more patience, more compassion,” Madison stated.

“I will take kindness over refinement. Just think about those stuffy neighbors we had on Sutton place,” Lincoln contemplated.

“Their refinement was a mask for their narrow-mindedness,” Olivia chimed in. “I could see it in their eyes when I would visit. I didn’t look like any of them.”

“You are far too beautiful to be a tight-lipped grump.” Lincoln put his arm around Olivia and gave her a kiss.

“All these years, you never said anything,” Madison scowled.

“I didn’t have to. You didn’t treat me any differently. Neither did your mother. And that was all that mattered.”

“What about me?” Lincoln pulled back.

“I love you, too.” She returned the kiss on the cheek. “Okay. What’s next?” Olivia asked, knowing she would be in charge of making most of the arrangements.

“We are going to need a car down there,” Lincoln said, as he polished off the last piece of spanakopita.

“Should we rent one for the summer? We are going to need an SUV. Food. Supplies. Beach gear,” Madison said.

“I’ll look into it,” Olivia offered.

“I probably have several thousand credit-card points. See if we can use them. I know I am not planning on going anywhere any time soon. Because she is the senior fashion editor, I already told Liz she will be going to Milan and Paris this fall.”

“She must be thrilled. But aren’t you going to miss it?” Lincoln asked.

“Not one day of it. She is young and ambitious. Let her get pursued by models, writers, stylists, and designers.”

Lincoln looked at his sister with surprise. “Are you sure you are okay?”