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“There!” She jabbed her finger at the screen. “That’s the captain. Chum Charters. Ooh! And he’s Captain Chum. Kinsey and I actually named him and his service. He decided to go into business for himself when we were just kids, and the only show we could all stand to watch together back then was SpongeBob, so we named it that after the Chum Bucket.”
Nodding as I did a search for Chum Charters in Galveston, I asked, “But not after the Krusty Krab, huh?”
“No,” she sounded depressed to report. “The captain was worried people would think he only specialized in catching crabs, so we finally settled on Chum Charters.”
“Makes sense.”
Pulling up the website, I clicked on theAboutpage and quickly found the name Captain Mitchell “Chum” Bollen as the sole proprietor with a picture to the side of a man in shorts, a T-shirt, and a ball cap, sporting a neatly trimmed beard as he knelt between two young girls and helped them hold up a decent-sized redfish that had to be a good three-feet long.
Squinting, I leaned in and looked at the younger girl on the right. She had the same red-brown wavy hair and square-shaped face as the woman next to me.
“That’s you,” I said, glancing over at her. “Isn’t it?”
But holy hell, she was an actual person that existed out in the real world; she wasn’t just a figment of my imagination.
She leaned in to look. “Yep. And that’s Kinsey right there.”
Her sister had more brown and less curl in her hair, but she looked as pretty as the younger girl.
Feeling as if we were finally getting somewhere, I said, “So your dad is Mitchell Bollen?”
She nodded. “But Kins and I call him Captain. The other kids in school thought I was so weird for calling my dad Captain, but…” She shrugged. “That’s who he’s always been.”
“And that would make your nameBlankDiane Bollen?” I guessed.
She was thoughtful a moment before zipping her gaze to me and answering, “Yes. Oh, wow. You’re quite the detective.” Shifting her shoulder over toward mine as if she was going to bump hers into me, she said. “Man, you should’ve majored in that instead of pre-med.”
I shook my head as I logged into the campus directory. “It’s completely beyond mehowyou can know what my major is but not your own name.”
“I know! Isn’t it, though? The brain is such a funky thing.”
TypingBollenin the last name box, I then clicked on thesearchbar and held my breath.
When two results popped up, I bypassed the first one—deciding she probably wasn’t faculty member Dr. Richard Bollen—and moved on to the next name on the list, only to suck in a surprised breath and slap the screen of the phone against my chest before she could see it.
“Oh shit!” I blurted, unable to stop myself.
“What? What?”
I swallowed heavily and then glanced up to meet her wide, curious eyes. “I…” Dammit. How was I going to be able to tell her this? “I think I know who you are.”
“Well?” She rolled her hand, encouraging me to spill it already. “Who am I?”
“Is your name Raina?”
Her eyes filled with recognition, and she smiled wide at me as she pressed both hands to her chest. “Yes! Oh my God, yes. I’m Raina Diane Bollen. Wow.Thankyou.” Moaning, she rolled her eyes in pleasure. “Do you know how awesome it feels to finally remember who I am again?”
I couldn’t celebrate with her, though. Realizing she must not have survived the wreck, I blew out a heavy breath and fell back against the headboard, feeling strangely bereft.
I mean, I didn’t know her, hadn’t once met her while she’d been alive, but it didn’t seem fair at all that this beautiful young vivacious woman was no longer breathing.
And last night, she’d told me she had alifewish, dammit.
Letting go of my phone, I let it slide into my lap as I cupped my head in both hands, shell-shocked.
Raina slowly seemed to grow aware of the fact that now was not a time for celebration. Falling somber, she demanded, “What? What’s wrong?”
I winced at her, and then just said it. “You were in a car accident.”
