He nodded. The shuffle he was currently doing wasn’t great.
The bus arrived with passengers, and it wasn’t long before they were motoring out of the marina. Arthur spread his notes across the table and compared what Amy had sent him with the journal clues. A few times she seemed to be reaching to make a connection, but he didn’t know the Ridge like she did.
A nasty jolt over the waves made his stomach churn. He put down his pen and looked out the window at the horizon. Choppy was a nice word for the waves today. If he continued reading, he’d be sick. He should be back at the town house where he could get some actual work done. He sighed. No, he deserved Sam’s caution. He’d treated his friend like shit when all he’d tried to do was help.
He gathered his papers and stuffed them in his backpack. Sam might have accepted his apology, but it would take more than words to show Sam he was healing. It was time to mend bridges. He carefully climbed the ladder to the top deck. A few other passengers had the same idea and were sitting on the seats chatting with each other. He debated sitting as well, but the canopy Sam stood under provided shade, so he stood next to him. Sweat trickled down his back. Perhaps he should wear shorts, even if it would reveal his prosthetic leg.
Sam glanced at him. “Everything all right?”
He nodded. “Too choppy to read.”
“Yeah, the forecast is for the swell to die down by midday. I hope it’s accurate.” A brief flash of concern over Sam’s face.
Arthur hadn’t thought much about his friend’s new venture. He’d been too busy feeling sorry for himself. “How’s the business going?”
“Good so far, though I haven’t really done anything. Rob was fully booked before I bought it. I’ll have to see how it goes over the off season.”
“What will you do?”
“I’ve already got a booking from the maritime museum, which starts next week after the season ends. Georgie discovered the Dutch wreck from that journal, and they’re sending maritime archaeologists up to do some research. Guy in charge is called Oliver, and he wants to use my boat.”
That could be interesting. He’d love to dive a wreck. “They didn’t send anyone straight away?”
“The museum didn’t have the resources to do more than a cursory examination. They’ve hired the boat for a week with the possibility to extend.”
“Will you keep your entire crew on?”
Sam shook his head. “No, most have other jobs lined up. It’s a seasonal thing.”
Arthur glanced around the boat. “You can captain this thing by yourself?”
“I could do with a first mate, if you’re interested.”
He blinked. He hadn’t thought about what he would do for work now, but it could be intriguing to be part of an archaeological investigation. “Yeah, all right.”
Sam grinned. “Great. Thanks.” He slowed the boat as they reached the snorkel spot. The swell had decreased, and it was pleasant. Arthur stayed on the top deck until the others were in the water. It looked cool and inviting. If he was quick, he could change into his shorts and go for a swim. He might even make it back on deck before any of the passengers, and no one would see his stump. “I might jump in.”
Sam’s eyebrows raised. “Go for it. You’ve got time.”
He moved down the ladder and into the cabin. No one was around except Gretchen, who stood at the back of the boat near the marlin board watching the swimmers.
The problem was how to get changed quickly. Should he take off his leg now, or wait until he went into the water? The longer he spent debating his options, the less time he’d have for swimming. He needed it to walk to the stern of the boat.
Stupid.
He changed into his shorts and stared down at the fake leg; plastic foot, metal bone and silicone cup with its sock.
Freak.
“Are you going swimming?”
He flinched at Gretchen’s voice. She stood in the doorway, an encouraging smile on her face.
He couldn’t back out now.
“Maybe.”
“What size flipper do you take?”
