Bobbie danced alongside him to his van. “Then I’m behind the wheel,” she told him decisively.
“No, I?—”
“Don’t argue.” There was no time for any superfluous shit. “You need to suit up. Which you can do on the way ifIget us there. By the sound of things, you need to be ready to jump in as soon as we arrive.”
Buck nodded succinctly and gave her a winsome, crooked smile. “You’re right. Thanks, Bobbie.”
“Not a problem.”
She held out a hand for his keys, and he didn’t hesitate to slap them into her palm.
“I’ll try not to take corners too fast, so you don’t take a tumble while getting your gear on.”
He corrected her. “No. Drive fast. It shouldn’t be a problem. I’m not going to use a wetsuit. The water should only be in the mid-70’s.” Buck was already climbing into the back of his van where all the new equipment was stored, and dragged what he needed, toward him. “Thank God Randal filled these tanks,” he said, tearing off his shirt and stripping unselfconsciously down to his boxers.
Bobbie managed to keep her tongue in her mouth as all his glorious skin was uncovered. Had she seen him in swim shorts before?Yes.Had he looked this good at eighteen? Not even close.
“Got it,” she managed. “But if you’re down longer than you anticipate, I’ll have your wet suit ready and waiting for you on shore.”
Yeah.Like every Maine sailor, Bobbie knew the persnickety-ness of the local waters. She wouldn’t bet Buck’s well-being on the temperature being as warm as he’d asserted.
The back doors closed behind Buck, and Bobbie hoisted herself up into the van’s seat, immediately turning the key and heading south, driving like a bat out of hell.
Three blocks. Two minutes, and they’d be on scene.
She wondered if the police would already be there, and…Damn.This wasn’t how she’d expected to be meeting with Chief Ildavorg today if he was one of the officers showing up on scene.
Reaching the river quickly, Bobbie saw a group of bystanders roughly assembled on the treed bank, some pointing, some taking off their footwear as if they were going to attempt to go in. Bobbie swiftly relayed that information to Buck, who growled out, “hell no”.
She parked the van at the end of the bridge and scrambled out.
“Don’t go in!” she yelled to those who looked poised. “We have a rescue diver here.” She indicated behind her as Buck emerged.
People immediately began pointing at the water and yelling.
“Slow down, slow down,” Buck clipped as he went down the embankment and closed in. “Where did the case initially go in, and have you been tracking it?”
A young man stepped forward and began speaking rapidly. “I saw the guy dump it. I was fishing. It went in almost under the bridge, and it drifted by me, still floating. That’s when I heard some kind of scratching noise from inside. It was above water and headed toward the Penobscot. We had eyes on it until about a half a minute ago, when it submerged.”
The kid pointed again, and so did a few others.
Buck wasted no time. He lowered his mask, put his regulator in his mouth, and ran as fast as the fins on his feet would allow. He headed a little upstream from the spot where the onlookers had seen the item go down because as Bobbie understood, the current would carry him south. It was a smart move.
“Be careful,” Bobbie called after Buck, just before he submerged.
He gave her a thumbs up, then disappeared.
She looked around. What could she do to help?
First, she’d get his wet-suit ready as she’d promised, just in case he had to come up because of the cold. And then…
Blankets. Towels.She hadn’t seen any in the van, so she turned to the people watching.
“Does anybody live close?” she asked.
Several hands went up.
“Good. We’ll need towels and blankets, just in case there’s…a need for them. The diver will also have to dry off and warm up as soon as he’s out. Can you gather up some of those things and bring them?”
