Captain of the Tides

By Sheila W. Perry

Libby sat in the hot car and waited for the light to turn green. She looked at her watch and relaxed. There was still plenty of time to make her flight to the Caribbean. Fingers tapping on the steering wheel in time to the music Libby was looking forward to this vacation for a few reasons. First, thanks to the success of her last book this vacation was the first where Libby really could have fun and not have to count pennies to do it. Second, Pete was finally out of her life giving Libby the chance for a fresh new life. No longer did she have to walk the tightrope keeping up the facade that Pete was the crazy one. There were enough problems between the two of them to discuss with the multitude of doctors she'd seen without Libby ever having to divulge the true root of Pete's evil. So no one knew her secret.
One plus two equals a free independent Libby expanding her horizons and giving back to those in need. Over the last two years the projects her foundation took on, created or maintained sixty-eight thousand jobs. The high-paced life was the reason the vacation was needed.
Pete being gone was a bonus. To be able to create and help the world at her own pace without any albatross' weighing her down only sweetened the vacation idea when Sadie mentioned it.
Libby loved the beach and hoped to own her own island someday so the timing of an invite from Marbles McCray, a very eligible bachelor to tour the Caribbean sealed the deal.
The light turned green and Libby checked the traffic before pulling into the intersection. Libby turned the radio up and sang along to the music without a care in the world. She should have looked into the rear view mirror and remembered when things are going this good a sucker punch from the past is ALWAYS just around the corner.

Pete buttoned his pants and looked out the window. The sun was high in the sky and he'd overslept again. His boss at the hotel would be pissed but today Pete's plans would be finished and tonight he would finally stop watching her from a distance and tell Libby what he did for her. Pete could hardly contain his joy thinking about Libby's reaction to all he went through to get back to her. By this time tomorrow they would be sailing away together. Pete smiled just thinking about holding Libby in his arms again.
"What's got you so happy this morning?" Rita asked walking into the bedroom. "You still thinking about last night?"
Pete grabbed Rita and threw her on the bed. He propped up on an elbow beside her. "You know I appreciate you letting me stay here."
"We all need a helping hand now and then. It wasn't your fault you got robbed, if anything its giving us a bad name." Rita rolled over and shoved her ample bosom into Pete's chest. "I feel its my duty to change your opinion of us."
"You do, do you?" Pete rolled onto his back bringing Rita with him. "Well give it your best shot!" he teased. Tonight he would have Libby but this morning he let Rita say her final goodbye to a man she didn't know was leaving.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sheila W. Perry
• Release date: May 27, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311237651

Sheila W. Perry

Having been a small town girl it gives me pleasure to visit one of the many towns I've lived in over the years. Some haven’t grown much but others have thrived while keeping that small town charm. I hear people talk about big city life being the way to go, I still like a small town though. That may be why I can relate to the Jessica series so well. She gets to watch Springfield grow into a big, for the times, city. Anyone who’s ridden through the area today can see that Springfield is far more than Jessica could of dreamed.In The Orchard I have once again returned to a small town. Glenns Falls is an ‘everybody knows your name’ kind of town. But the lure of big city life is still there for some like Julie.She wants nothing more than to ditch country life and be somebody. It takes a man like Johnny and a woman like Maggie to show her that you can be somebody no matter where you’re from or where you live.Other than baking, reading and writing, riding my Harley is a passion and a favorite thing to do. Family vacations on the seat of a bike well outweigh any fun one can have in a car. Can you imagine taking Route 23 in Kentucky or riding the Snake on Route 421 in an RV? It just isn't the same. I do a lot of thinking about what I’m writing in the seat of my Sportster.I have always been a supporter of people. It has taught me we should figure out what we have in common, that that unites us, if you will, in order to overcome our differences. I've met people from all walks of life, some certifiable and the rest just crazy. All lovable and interesting.Inspiration for my books comes from many places. Jessica was inspired by my interest in small towns and love of westerns. I wanted to write something my Grandmother would like. The Orchard was born out of a conversation with a friend. Just why would a man shoot not one but two different men? We agreed that it had to be over a woman but had different ideas about the circumstances. Riding home from his house the concept for The Orchard was born. I had to ask what kind of man would do that and then it occurred to me what kind of woman could inspire that in a man? In my mind’s eye Maggie could.I've spent a good deal of my formidable years living in beach towns. It is true that once the sand gets between your toes you are hooked. You can never wash it out. Which is why you may find a beach setting in many of my books like The Captain of the Tides.Grandmothers are important in ones lives. I have quilts made by each of mine. One I've washed for the last time and tucked away in my little space in our house. I’m working my way thru the other one. It’s like a warm hug of love as I go to sleep each night. What a wonderful last memory of the day.

Book preview

Captain of the Tides Sheila W. Perry

Smashwords Edition

It takes all kinds of people to make this world a crazy place.

Preface

A day on the water always made Marbles feel happy and today was no exception. Bounding threw the shacks door he finished drying his brown hair and threw the towel quarterback style into the laundry basket in the corner. When the wicker running back caught it Marbles exclaimed, Touchdown! and danced a jig worthy of any high school end zone.

Still reliving them glory days, huh? Gordon Meyers came through the door and asked. He too tossed his towel into the basket but without all the fanfare.

With days like today the glory days are still here, man. Marbles grabbed a weathered T-shirt from the makeshift closet and pulled it over his head. Some days it’s just great to be alive. Besides there’s no law that says glory days have to end when you get out of school.

Hey, don’t get me wrong; no one more than me, is happy you still have glory days. Your talent may have gotten you on the charts but these glory days they’re helping your ass handle all the craziness the top of the charts brings. I understand you need them. Gordon opened his gym bag and chose one of the two shirts he’d brought. I know I certainly enjoy sharing them with you.

Then let’s enjoy this day. Marbles opened the cooler and pulled out the bottle of rum he’d saved all day. Grab them two glasses behind you and let’s toast this glory day. He turned and headed out to the white sandy beach. Marbles never brought work to this little slice of paradise and he had no intentions of starting now. No matter how much of an opportunity his business manager, Gordon thought it was.

Sitting in beach chairs at the water’s edge the two friends toasted to another glorious day at the beach and watched the calming Caribbean sun set. Marbles raised his glass, To the Caribbean! and waited for Gordon to join him.

Gordon looked at Marbles. He liked the happiness he saw on his friends face and knew Marbles was right; business could wait until tomorrow. He did need days like this to calm him down especially with the tour starting in just a few weeks. To the Caribbean! he echoed. With waves crashing at his feet Gordon downed yet another shot of the ice cold rum and was glad he had job perks like this one.

One thing Gordon found out about Marbles shortly after they met was Marbles always had the best rum and that night was no different. Gordon woke up to the sun shining way too brightly on his face. It took a few minutes to realize he was in the porch hammock.

Come on sleepy head! Marbles slapped Gordon’s foot on his way out the shacks door. Fish is already cooking. You’ve got about five minutes until the coffee’s done. Let’s go.

Coffee, was all Gordon could muster, feeling the reverberation from the friendly slap all the way to the top of his head like a gong.

It’s on the fire, but you got to get down there. There’s no room service here. Marbles laughed and leapt off the porch. It was like the rum of last night had no effect on him.

Call me a mule! Gordon groaned. Every time this happened he swore never again! Yet here he was twenty feet from hot salvation and hell to pay to get there. He knew the secret to getting out of a hammock and not face planting was to do it in one fluid move. Gordon set his sights on the porch rail and quickly raised his upper body as he swung his legs towards the floor. He grabbed the rail and stood up. The sudden rush of blood to his head made him dizzy and stagger down the two steps to the sand. Marbles laughed, again. You’ve got time for a dip before the fish is done. Gordon wasn’t sure the ocean was what he needed at that moment and started shaking his head no until the movement hurt.

It wasn’t until Marbles flipped the fish and said, All I’m saying is, the ocean will cure whatever ails you, that Gordon realized his host was wet. It was true Marbles was acting like he had no hangover.

Maybe there was some truth to it Gordon thought and walked into the Caribbean Sea with a fresh perspective. He dove under a blue green wave and shook the hangover from his head doing as his friend suggested Gordon left it all behind in the salty water. When he heard Marbles banging two tin cups together he headed ashore refreshed and ready for another day on the water. Eating the fresh catch of the morning Gordon looked around the beautiful cove and was once again reminded that he did have great job perks.

As always the voice of reason in the back of his head reminded him that the singing wouldn’t last forever. With Marbles McCray selling out the biggest stadiums in the world in record times it was hard for Gordon to get him to imagine that one day the fans would stop coming. The voice may hold up, the fans interest may not. That was the nature of this business. Marbles needed to branch out and find a new way to entertain people.

Over the years Gordon casually mentioned acting to Marbles. Gordon wasn’t sure if Marbles was too interested or not but he agreed Gordon could send out a few feelers to some people he knew in Hollywood. The consensus was that his name alone could get him walking onto any police drama as a visiting detective or a thug. But Marbles held out. If he was going to make Gordon happy and look into this acting thing he wanted to do movies rather than TV. And not just any movie; movies that made you feel. Gordon was sure ‘Captain of The Tides’ was that movie. Hell, it had been written with Marbles in mind. He just had to get Marbles to read it.

Later that evening after the fun was safely tucked away in the cove and his manager on a plane home, Marbles sat out on the deck of his home. On St John he owned a fishing trawler, a yacht and a house. The yacht hadn’t left port in two years. He thought he needed the big yacht when he first moved to the Caribbean but as Marbles got to know the locals he found they treated him like a real person, not like the superstar the world thought him to be, he decided he didn’t need it. The islands were about relaxing and it was hard to escape sitting on a yacht. Every gossip rag in the supermarket was a constant reminder with so many tourists the world was just a camera phone away so he mostly stayed inside the cabin. Slowly the yacht turned into a very nice guest house for people who came to the islands to visit him but people Marbles didn’t really want staying in his own house.

The restored trawler saw some use; a few times a year he’d invite a few friends down and do a guys fishing weekend. Now mostly for his every day travels Marbles used a golf cart and skiff to get around the islands. He felt like the skiff was the motorcycle of the ocean.

Marbles’ home was his sanctuary and the deck was where he did his final unwinding before heading back to the day to day and the concert. The deck overlooked the ocean and Marbles loved to watch the cresting of the waves. Even though they could get pulled under with each passing wave the birds dancing in their white foam reminded him of the dance of life. Marbles believed what he told Gordon about the waters of the blue green ocean curing or washing away whatever ailed you. The cove was where he went when he wanted to get away and be free. That’s why he discouraged any shop talk there. The very few people who knew about the cove knew that so Marbles was surprised Gordon kept bringing it up.

Feet propped up on a weathered footrest, hat pulled low over his face he looked the picture of calm. One watching couldn’t see his thoughts about the gazillion details that still needed finalizing before the tour started in just a few short weeks. So much running around in his head caused it to hurt and Marbles blindly reached for the bottle beside him and felt the padded envelope propped against it and groaned. Before he boarded the plane back to Nashville Gordon made one more earnest plea. Marbles thought about what he said and wondered if it was truly possible for a three time Entertainer of The Year to not sell tickets?

Remember PJ Montgomery? When Marbles shook his head Gordon continued. That’s exactly what I'm talking about. Look him up. He sang the greatest ballads of the 60’s, touted as one of the best. Gave a great show, the ladies swooned, Entertainer of The Year twice. But where is he now? The announcement for Gordon’s flight cut through their conversation.

Gordon hesitated. You can’t climb any higher singing; I don’t want you to get bored either. Look all I'm saying is if you’re not willing to show the fans something different… Gordon shrugged. In just three short years you could have to cancel shows due to poor ticket sales. That’s all it takes for you to be a Marbles Who?

That’ll never happen. Marbles insisted.

There it is the famous last words of ex-famous people. Gordon stood up and swept his arms wide around him. Did you ever think all of this would happen? Marbles knew what he meant. The life he was living was far more than anything he could ever dream sitting in the hay loft back home. In reality, until it happens to you, no one can dream a life this big. Look whether its concert tickets or movie tickets it’s my job to sell Marbles tickets. That’s what I'm trying to do with this book. Just read it, it has movie written all over it! That puts you in the starring role. Think about future ticket sales. Wouldn’t an Oscar look good sitting next to your Entertainer of The Year statues?

Just to shut Gordon up about his dim future Marbles promised to take the flash drive on tour and read it when he had a chance. Taking a deep breath of the salty air Marbles thought about it for a few minutes. Gordon was right about most everything he’d steered Marbles into. He turned on his laptop and searched for PJ Montgomery. While he waited he poured a shot and raised a glass to the deep orange sun setting low over the ocean. Here’s to acting.

Articles about PJ started popping up. Marbles read the biography of a man who was on top of the country music world. Marbles clicked on a list of PJ’s hit songs surprised that he recognized more than a few. PJ had a specific sound that the world loved at one time. But the sound was a fad. After it wore off PJ refused to update his style and songs to keep the public’s attention. The New York Times critic reviewed his shows as predictable and the fans stopped coming to them. Marbles read off the list of concert venues PJ played. They were the same ones he was selling out now, but he noticed the names at the end of the list were the smallest arenas Marbles like PJ sold out on the way up to the top. Marbles wondered if he’d be playing them again on his way down and shuddered. He went back to the biography looking for a happy ending.

The article told about PJ ending up broke at the bottom of a bottle. Marbles shivered and sat down the laptop. He would not be another PJ Montgomery. He poured another shot and saluted the picture on the screen. Again I say here’s to acting.

It was eleven weeks into the tour and it was starting to feel never ending before Marbles finally got a few days off. The Tennessee sun beat hot on their necks as they stood on the side of the road and contemplated what to do. I hate to state the obvious but she’s overheated again. Tim, Marbles' driver of twelve years was saying. Swatting away the steam with his hat he tried to get a closer look. All these up and down roads, it’s hard on a girl. Tim lovingly patted the bus.

Well put one of those spares you said you brought on your girlfriend here and let’s get her moving. Marbles stepped back from the steam and looked up and down the hilly road. We are kind of right out here in the middle of nowhere.

Hell, I put the last of my spares on her the last time this happened. Tim informed him. It’s like playing Russian Roulette when you buy parts anymore.

You didn’t get any more? Marbles threw his arms up.

Hey now wait a minute, we’ve been humping the big dog for the last couple of weeks, what with different cities every night. There’s not been a whole lot of free time. Tim tried to explain. The heat was getting to them both.

What are you doing when I’m on stage? Marbles wiped the sweat from his forehead. He was looking forward to these few days off. But Tim was right and he did bring two spares. They were in the thick of the tour and it really was city after city like he said. If Marbles was pressed at that very moment he might not even be able to state for sure what day of the week it was. Well, come on, get on the horn and get us out of here. At least the new bus will be waiting for us in St Louis. Marbles impatiently went back inside the bus. The tour really was wearing on him. It was not like him to snap at people.

Marbles was not a sit back and let someone else do for him kind of person. He was an A-type and as such oversaw the entire tour. He was there from the time the stage is built until the final tweaking of the last sound check. That was high energy most of the time and then to have to take it up a notch for the concerts was draining but Marbles still helped tear it all down. Marbles never asked the Crew to do anything he wasn’t willing to do and he showed it every night. He hated to disappoint the fans but the balls to the wall every night for weeks…well, let’s just say he wasn’t twenty anymore.

He wasn’t feeling twenty when he tore open the manila envelope open a short time later. Having no internet service or cell reception one might think was a blessing, a choice if you will, living out here in the middle of nowhere, but Marbles found it only add to his agitation. There was a farm house a few miles back and Tim was backtracking to it.

Since it would most likely be at least a few hours before the bus was moving again Marbles decided to get some work done. It wasn’t until he was set up in his comfy chair, feet; bare and propped up that he remembered there was no service. He couldn’t even call home to tell them he was running late. He closed the laptop and went outside. Taking the time to actually look around and breathe he realized the country side was beautiful. No cars passed in the hours since they’d stopped. An overzealous fan or the paparazzi were the last thing Marbles wanted at a time like this. That’s why Tim walked. Needing to be able to hop back inside the bus to stay out of sight Marbles didn’t stray far.

He started to think about it and left with no way to really escape Marbles felt a little vulnerable. Soon his mind started playing tricks on him and every rustle of leaves sounded like a camera shutter. He got back on the bus and started to pace and straighten and tidy and clean. That took about ten minutes. He remembered the ever present bottle of rum in the refrigerator. Hating to let it get hot before the bus was running again he started to drink.

So out of sheer boredom and since it was the only thing that didn’t require internet service to do Marbles ripped open the envelope and inserted the flash drive in his laptop. While waiting for the file to open he read the handwritten note that came in the envelope. Addressed to Gordon it was simple and to the point: I would like your permission to continue with this project. Please read ‘Captain of The Tides’ to find out what I'm talking about. It was signed Miranda Summer. Not please, please, please or I’m sure we will be talking soon, just Miranda Summer.

Okay Miss Summer, let’s is what you need my permission for. Marbles started to read.

Captain of the Tides

Chapter One

Libby Daniels was riding at the top of a rainbow and loving every minute of it. Her latest book was still at the top of the New York Times Best Sellers list and her assistant, Sadie was fielding calls from top directors about a possible movie deal. This would be Libby’s second foray into the movie business. It was because of the first she was sitting in a Caribbean hotel lobby waiting for Marbles McCray.

It was a beautiful summer day and with the walls rolled up in the Caribbean fashion, the sea breeze flowed through the lobby keeping it cool and enjoyable. Libby looked down at her outfit. He’d said be prepared for a day of fun and relaxation. She hoped the shorts and button up shirt she chose would be okay. The hair on the back of her neck stood up. Absently she felt for the necklace she usually wore and remembered it was upstairs tucked away in her under garments drawer. Then Libby reminded herself she was