Wanderlust

By Alice Sharpe

Just when things are looking up for Dani Thorton--she's built herself a business taking care of other's people's boats and met a nice guy who is helping to heal her broken heart--everything falls apart. First she finds a dead body on one of the boats she tends and then her past shows up in the form of Max Jansen. Now everyone she knows is in danger... including herself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alice Sharpe
• Release date: Dec 10, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466136892

Alice Sharpe

I was born in Sacramento, California where I launched my writing career by “publishing” a family newspaper. Circulation was dismal. After school, I married the love of my life. We spent years juggling children and pets while living on sailboats. All the while, I read like a crazy woman (devoured Agatha Christie) and wrote stories of my own, eventually selling to magazines and then book publishers. Now, 45 novels later, I’m concentrating on romantic suspense where my true interest lies.

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WANDERLUST

(Previously published as NIGHT RUN)

Alice Sharpe

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 by Alice Sharpe

Cover art and design by Patricia Schmitt/Pickyme

All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in encouraging piracy of copyrighted materials in violation with the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

CHAPTER ONE

ONE MORE coat of varnish.

Dani wiped her forehead with a tanned bare arm and sat back on her heels to admire her handiwork. Three days before, the mahogany plank wrapping Wanderlust’s cockpit had been rough and gray, the victim of her increasingly busy schedule. Now it glowed a rich reddish brown and was velvet to the touch or would be when the current coat of varnish dried.

A gentle swell passed beneath the hull of the old schooner and Dani looked up in time to catch a glimpse of a glistening white yacht heading up the outer channel. She didn’t need to see the name to know it was the Dow Jones as she recognized the boat by sight. In fact, she suspected many people in San Diego could say the same as its professional skipper had recently disappeared at sea during a night run from Mexico. The story had hit the news for a day or so.

Such was the stuff of nightmares to sailors. One minute to be on deck, safe and secure. The next to slip somehow, to fall overboard, to hit the water and plunge below the sea only to struggle back to the surface in time to watch your vessel disappear toward the horizon...without you.

Dani shook off the instinctive shudder that racked her body, anxious now for that old dependable sun to soak back into her skin as she finished the job at hand. The career she’d chosen wasn’t an easy way to make a living, but she’d been doing it for the better part of two years. It had helped her to start a new life in a new city, make friends, get over past disappointments. She loved the independence of her work as well as the bright warm skies above, and if lately things seemed a little predictable, that had to be expected.

Wanderlust’s owner, Sid Lazier, poked his nose out a porthole. That you out there, Dani? I didn’t even know you’d come aboard.

I’m just about done for today, she told him. Sid and his partner owned a local restaurant, so he usually spent half the night awake and half the day asleep. As Dani had to work on the boat during the daylight hours, she came aboard quietly and tried not to make much noise. She brushed on the last of the varnish, then wrapped the sticky brush in a piece of plastic wrap to clean later.

Sid emerged from the companionway door wearing a pair of plaid shorts and a pink tee shirt that just about matched what seemed to be a permanent sunburn on his bald head. A pair of very dark sunglasses rested on his nose, masking eyes that Dani knew were as calm as a foggy morning. She guessed he was in his late forties. Looks mighty pretty, he said, moving his fingers toward the glossy finish like a child is drawn to touch something shiny.

No! Dani squealed, and Sid jerked his hand away. Sorry, Sid, but it’s still wet.

Oh, yeah. Of course. I knew that. His hand fell to his side as he looked around, apparently trying to figure out if there was a safe place to sit.

Park it on the bridge deck, Dani said with a laugh. Sit with your back in front of the cabin door, there’s nothing you can hurt that way.

He did this, stretching his short legs out in front of him, crossing his ankles. What do I owe you?

For today? About fifty dollars. I’1l put it on your bill.

Sid shook his head. Hell, Dani. I know you only charge me half of what you charge other folk, but don’t you worry, I got some money coming in any day now.

You know I have a soft spot for you, she said, packing up her things.

What you have, Sid drawled, is a soft spot for my boat.

As she looked down the full length of the teak decks, her lips curved. Wanderlust was thirty-nine years old and beautiful, thanks largely, if not singly, to Dani’s constant efforts. She didn’t charge Sid as much as she should, but since he seldom paid a bill anyway, what difference did it make?

You could take me out sailing sometime, she said. Hint, hint.

Only take her out once a year to watch the fireworks on New Year’s Eve and then I use the motor. You know how hard this old gal is to sail. Sometimes I think she’s forty-eight feet of cranky. Anyway, you have a standing invitation for that. Man, they were great this year, too. Where were you, anyway?

I went home to Sausalito on New Year’s Eve day, remember? My mom has a party every year on her houseboat. I couldn’t possibly miss one. She looked up at the tall masts that rose like naked trees above the decks and wished she could have been here to go out on Wanderlust, even if it was only on the bay to watch the city-sponsored fireworks. Next year she’d have to disappoint her family. The longing to feel Wanderlust rise to a real swell, even a gentle bay swell, was overpowering. Maybe you’ll go out again this year, I mean before New Year’s Eve, she ventured. I could raise the sails if I had a little help, and you could see what this boat is capable of.

Sid yawned into his hand. Once a year is plenty, especially since the first was only a week or two ago.

It’s your boat, Sid. She checked her watch and added, I’d better get home.

Hot date, huh?

Hmm. She didn’t elaborate. Let Sid think she had a date with something taller and more interesting than a bottle of shampoo.

Oh, I know, Sid said with a wink that was anything but subtle. I’ve seen you hanging around with that guy.

What guy?

That artist.

You mean Chay? He’s not really an artist, you know. He owns a chain of art galleries. But he does know a lot about the subject.

Splitting hairs, Sid said, stretching his arms above his head and arching his back. He came close to hitting wet varnish with his hand and Dani knew she had to get out of there before he touched something and she threw a fit. "Bring him by Gilberts, I’ll treat you both to prime rib," Sid added.

Thanks, Sid, I might do that.

And I’ll pay you what I owe you, never fear. He smiled with a broad show of teeth as he added, Like I said, I have money coming in. In fact next time you come, I’m giving you two hundred dollars against my bill. Can’t keep using your supplies without paying for anything. It’s not right. If I have to go to the restaurant early, I’ll leave it where I always leave things for you when I’m not home.

On the little shelf behind the settee in the main cabin?

That’s right. You still have a key?

On my key ring.

Then it’s all settled. You’re a real trooper, Dani."

Dani laughed. She thought to herself that she was probably a real sucker. Two hundred dollars would cover less than one twentieth of his bill. But she’d spoken the truth when she told Sid she liked him. He was always cheerful, always kind. And two hundred dollars was two hundred more than he’d paid her to date. It was a good thing the rest of her clients weren’t like Sid.

She picked up her box of supplies and tucked it under her arm. Later, she called as she carefully stepped over the coaming and onto the boarding ladder, juggling her things like a pro.

The heat had soaked into the dock and now radiated up through the soles of her shoes, bouncing against her bare legs and arms as she made her way to the parking lot. She’d lived in San Diego for a little over two years, a transplant from Sausalito, a picturesque town across the bay from San Francisco. Sometimes, she missed the foggy cool days further north, but most of the time she thought it was heaven to wear shorts in the winter as well as the summer and earn her living taking care of other people’s boats.

Dani’s office was the back of her van. She unlocked the double back doors and unwrapped the dirty brush, suspending it with three others in a huge jug of thinner. Then she put the sandpaper box in its niche and stowed the can.

It was late afternoon and the freeway traffic was awful. She often wished she could afford to live closer to the waterfront where all her business was located, but the rents down here were too high. Instead, she’d found a small apartment out in the suburbs, and meanwhile kept her eyes open and her money in the bank so that someday she could buy herself the right boat to call home.

Forty minutes later, she pulled the van into the short driveway. Her studio apartment sat above a detached garage situated next to her landlord’s house. Dani had rented it both because it was cheap and because the owners allowed her to use the garage to store and clean supplies. She used fresh thinner to rinse out the paint brushes, threw away the old sandpaper, and resupplied the box with new pieces. Then she checked a small spiral notebook she kept tucked in the van’s door to see where she was going the next day and what she was supposed to do, resupplying the van as she crossed things off the list. The morning was filled with odds and ends, the afternoon free to accommodate a dentist appointment.

An uncharacteristic frown toyed around with her lips when she saw what she’d hastily scrawled in the margin: Find something for party.

Drat. She’d forgotten about the yacht club dance. Chay had invited her weeks ago and she’d said sure, why not? At the time, it had seemed like a good idea, but now, looming so close, she kind of wished she could cancel.

By this time, she was hotter than ever so she locked the van and ran up the stairs to discover her apartment flooded with late winter afternoon sunlight. Lowering the bamboo shades helped a little and switching on the overhead fan helped a lot. At least the apartment looked cooler and as she emptied her pockets of the days accumulation, she looked around, admiring her nest.

She’d had fun decorating this place, mostly with things from garage sales and cast-offs from the marina area, choosing nautically inspired patterns and doodads to make herself feel right at home. She still liked everything, but for some reason, she’d begun to feel a little restless lately and wasn’t sure why. Maybe she was just tired of commuting or maybe it was the feeling that she’d built herself a great new life and yet everything still seemed like it was on hold.

Knock it off, she told herself. Take a shower, eat something chocolate. Snap out of it!

After the shower, she threw on a soft blue kimono and started rummaging through the refrigerator for something decadent to eat. She found two containers of fat free yogurt and three slices of processed cheese. Not good. The empty freezer confirmed her suspicion she’d polished off he last of the ice cream a day or two before. Things were getting desperate.

As she settled on a Diet Coke—at least it was cold—there was a knock at the door. Through the glass panel she saw her landlord’s face and smiled in greeting as she ushered Pam inside.

I want one of those, Pam said, eyeing the cold drink.

Help yourself, Dani said. Um—what are you doing tomorrow afternoon?

Pam emerged from the fridge with a grapefruit juice. I work at the preschool in the morning but I’m off at one o’clock. Why? What’s up?

I have a dentist appointment at twelve thirty and then I need to find something to wear to a party. You in?

Are you kidding? I love to shop.

I know. How about I swing by here after my appointment and pick you up?

Sounds great. I’ll have a strategy by then.

Dani perched on a stool at the breakfast bar. Strategy?

For shopping.

What do you mean? I figured we’d go into a store, find a dress I can afford and buy it.

You amateurs, Pam scoffed as she popped the lid and took a long swallow. You’re all the same. No imagination. Nope, what we’ll do is hit the big department stores at the mall and get a feel for what’s hot.

That sounds fine, Dani said.

However, we won’t buy anything.

And that makes sense, because…

Because you don’t buy retail. After our recognizance mission at the mall, we’ll hit a couple of vintage stores and then if we don’t find just the right thing, the discount stores. At last count there were ten of them in a five mile radius of here.

You frighten me, Dani said with a pretend shiver.

Pam was a leggy redhead with a quick temper and an equally quick smile. She dissolved into giggles. I know! I scare myself. I’m thinking you’d look great in orange or pink. Do you have any fashion magazines?

What do you think? Dani said as she reached for her cell and turned it to the speaker function. She liked to take notes with good old pen and paper as she listened to the day’s messages.

"You know, Dani, the coolest thing about these new smart phones is that you can take them with you and answer