“Looking for someone?” he said, cordially enough.
“Actually, I’m looking for a boat,” said Devin.
“Well. All the boats are over there,” he said, canting his head toward the water.
“Thanks. I’m looking for my mother’s boat, which I assumed was not in the water,” said Devin. “The boat is named Sadie?”
“Is that a question or a fact?” said the man.
“The boat name is a fact. I’m asking if it’s here,” said Devin, starting to get a little annoyed.
“Can I see some identification?”
“Sure,” he said, glad he hadn’t left his wallet back in the car.
The man, who he assumed to be more than a dockhand at the marina, scrutinized his driver’s license, glancing back and forth between the card and his face several times, like an East German border guard. He handed it back with a nod.
“Sorry about all that,” he said. “Your mother gave me some specific instructions, and a fair sum to back them up. Her boat is the one without the mast. It’s been at the marina awhile.”
“When did she buy it?”
“Last year, toward the end of the summer,” he said. “She’s only been up on it twice.”
“Do you remember the last time she came by?”
“Yep. Saw her about three weeks ago. She spent about ten minutes on the boat. Paid for the next three years of storage,” he said. “I kinda got the feeling she didn’t buy it for sailing.”
“I just learned about the boat yesterday,” said Devin. “She passed away a couple weeks ago.”
“Oh. Damn. I’m very sorry to hear that. She seemed like a nice lady.”
“Thank you,” said Devin. “How do I get up on the boat? They seem so high when they’re on those stands.”
“I’ll get you a ladder and meet you over there.”
Paying for three additional years of storage didn’t make a ton of sense, but her visiting the boat a few weeks ago appeared to be tied to whatever had happened ten days ago. The man returned a few minutes later with a tall wooden ladder that looked as though it had been constructed during the Revolutionary War. Devin glanced at it skeptically.
“I know. It looks like a relic, but I guarantee this’ll be around longer than one of those aluminum contraptions,” he said, placing it against the hull. “Just so you know, the boat needs a lot of work to make her seaworthy. Given what your mom paid me in advance for storage, I could get her in the water in time for you to enjoy the tail end of the season. If you’re interested.”
“I don’t know the first thing about boats,” said Devin.
“Plenty of folks around here that do,” he said. “I have the slip space for her—included in the price.”
“How much did my mom pay for storage?”
The guy laughed. “She paid for storage—and discretion. Let me know what you want to do with the boat. No rush. Storage is all paid up for a while. My name’s Frank, by the way. I own this fine establishment.”
“Thank you, Frank. For your continued discretion,” said Devin. “And I’ll keep your offer in mind. I never thought of myself as the boating type, but . . . I’ll think about it.”
“You ever been out on the water?” asked Frank. “On something other than a cruise ship or ferry?”
Devin shook his head. “Nope.”
“Then you be sure to come back when you’re not busy, and I’ll get you out there,” said Frank. “You’ll know right away if you’re the boating type or not—and god help you if you are.”
“Why’s that?” said Devin.
“Because you’ll be mortgaging your house in a few years to buy a bigger boat!”
Devin laughed. He liked this guy. If the file hidden inside the boat turned out to be a bust, he might take him up on the offer. Why the hell not?
“I’ll let you know.”
“And I’ll leave you to your business,” said Frank, saluting him before walking away.
Devin wiped the sweat off his forehead and grabbed the ladder with both hands, immediately gaining a sense of what Frank had conveyed about it. The thing felt solid, as though it had been carved from a single piece of wood. Still, he tentatively stepped on the first rung, testing it with a few bounces before pushing up with his full body weight. It was a wooden ladder, after all.
At the top of the ladder, he grabbed the nearest stanchion poles and gave them a tug to make sure they were secure before using them as leverage to climb into the boat. He stood perfectly still in the cockpit, unsure how stable the boat would be with him on board. The metal stands pressed up against the hull looked like a rickety arrangement to hold up an object that easily weighed several thousand pounds.