Page 8 of Let It Snow

“You don’t believe in security much in this joint, do you?” Dane waved the man to sit back down as he breezed through the outer office and into the open door of the inner command center where he knew his friend and sometimes co-conspirator, Tony Vendi, would likely be. He shouldn’t be there as the Officer in Charge—or O in C as he called it—some junior officer ought to be. But Dane knew his man better than that.

Vendi spun around and he didn’t greet Dane with the usual smile, not even the equally usual scowl. The look that greeted Dane was perplexed.

Not good.

“What the hell do you want?” Chief Petty Officer Anthony Vendi—according to the nameplate on his desk—turned back to his monitor.

“Merry Christmas,” Cap said.

Vendi sighed and turned back to them. “What is it? When you two show up, one thing I’m certain of is that it’s not a social call—not even on Christmas Eve.”

“How bad’s the storm? Is it safe for the ferry?”

Vendi nodded. “Governor is one of the most implacable ferries ever built. Old and sturdy.”

Dane nodded and made his way over to the desk and bank of monitors and gadgets and the windows above lining the wall facing the sea. The office reminded him of the bridge of a boat. Apt.

“Do I have to play twenty questions or are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“Shana is on the ferry,” Cap said.

Vendi nodded. “She picked a fine time to leave. Christmas Eve in the middle of a snow squall. What the hell did you do, Blaise?”

“You sure this is a squall and not a blizzard?” Dane ignored his question. Vendi was less reticent about asking personal questions than Cap, but Dane’s impervious wall of granite was up and bouncing all inquiries.

“You’re a piece of work.” Vendi gave him a look like he was deciding whether he was going to take pity or torture him. Dane continued to behave like a piece of granite. He felt like one too. For only a moment. Then he felt the instability rumbling deep inside him.

“No—I’m not sure it’s a squall. That’s what the NOAA reports say. They’re saying the seas will calm within ten minutes.”

“But?”

“But my thirty-footer on patrol says otherwise.”

The three men stood in silence. Dane had no idea what the others were thinking. But he used all the strength in him to keep from exploding into action, racing to the Steamship Authority and stealing a boat to chase the ferry and drag Shana from it.

Maybe Vendi read his mind. He said, “Either way, the ferry is okay to go. They head northeast for a short stretch and then the route turns west into easier waters. They’ll catch some waves and wind at the elbow of the route, but nothing the ferry can’t handle. The passengers will need to stay inside and there might be a few getting queasy. We put out a small craft warning, but that’s it.”

Dane nodded. He had a bad feeling about this.

Cap said, “Thanks.”

“If anything changes—if we need to close the ports—I’ll let you know.”

Dane looked at his watch. “The ferry is already out.”

Chapter 5

His gut turned into a lead ball. He tightened his fist, tensing every one of his muscles and squeezing every last ounce of mental strength he had until he felt in control, felt the panic retreat.

“Let’s watch it for a few minutes before we panic. It could still be a squall. I’m sending a boat to check the sound further out. It should be okay. We’ll monitor it.”

“How about some coffee?” Dane asked. He wasn’t leaving.

“Help yourself.” Vendi paused and then put a hand on Dane’s shoulder. “I’m sorry about your mother, Blaise.” His words were like a fog of dry ice freezing him on contact.

Cap said, “Coffee sounds perfect. For real—how’d you pull this duty on Christmas Eve, Vendi? I figured you’d be long gone by now—back to your family in Boston.”

“Weather events on an island trump all else in the coast guard. But don’t worry about me—I’ll be there in time for Christmas dinner tomorrow.” He paused and added, “Ever since they designated the Vineyard a SAWRS station we’re required to ensure operational continuity of the automated system.”