Read Online Spooning Daisy by Maggie McConnell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Maggie McConnell
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dinner with last night?”
Daisy returned the page to Stone. “I think so. Damn.” An officer, a gentleman, and a cross-dressing felon.
“All we can do is alert the Canadian officials and hope they find him. At least he left your passport and travel documents. But I wouldn’t hold out much hope for recovering your money or finding your Lexus anytime soon.”
Tears welled in Daisy’s eyes. “But he was wearing a uniform.” Her lower lip quivered. “And he knew what the M/V stands for in front of Columbia ,” as if that made her trust in a stranger seem doubly reasonable.
“I’m afraid, Ms. Moon, it’s not a maritime secret that M/V stands for motor vessel . ”
“Motor vessel?” she squeaked.
Max Kendall turned away from the pitiful sight. “Can I go now?”
“Not so fast,” Keller said, obviously sympathetic to Daisy.
“What Deputy SO Keller means is—”
Max held up a palm to halt further explanation. From his wallet, he presented his Alaska driver’s license. Stone looked at it and handed it to Keller.
“You won’t be insulted if we verify this?” Keller returned the plastic to Max.
Max stuffed his ID into its slot. “Can I go?”
“Of course, Mr. Kendall,” the security chief told him, shooting a warning glance at Keller. “Sorry for the mix-up. But I’m sure you can understand how Ms. Moon—”
“No,” Max tersely interrupted. “I don’t understand how Ms. Moon does anything .” He struggled to rise on one leg from the seat he’d been forced into while defending himself against Daisy’s accusations.
Yes, it was coincidental that he and Daisy were on the same ferry. But the ferry he originally booked—with a cabin—sailed three weeks ago, and three weeks ago he was in the hospital, he’d informed them as Daisy averted her eyes from his accusatory stare. He was on the ferry now because he’d bought a truck in Seattle and was taking that same truck to Alaska, departing the ferry in Haines. He didn’t elaborate on his final destination, figuring the less Daisy knew about his life, the better, and by then Stone seemed satisfied that Max Kendall was just an innocent bystander in Daisy Moon’s mixed-up world.
Why Daisy was on the Columbia , Max didn’t know. But he’d stopped himself from asking. The last thing he wanted was to get involved in Daisy’s life. He didn’t care what her latest turmoil was or what tragedy had caused her to flee Seattle. The woman was an albatross.
“What am I going to do?” Daisy asked to no one in particular. “I have no money, no credit cards, no Lex-us,” she lamented, her breath in little hops. “My pots and pans, my knives . . . my recipes ,” she added, just now realizing what the theft of her Lexus meant.
Max turned a deaf ear to Daisy’s plight; he had troubles of his own.
“Don’t worry, Ms. Moon, we’ll get you back to Bellingham,” Stone assured her. “Tomorrow, when we dock in Ketchikan, we can put you on a ferry going south.”
“But . . . I’m not going to Bellingham.”
“If you continue, what will you do when we reach Haines?” Stone asked. “You’ll be stranded. We arrive Saturday and the banks will be closed. Even if money is wired to you, you won’t get it until Monday morning. Where would you stay the weekend? You have no vehicle, no way to keep going—”
Daisy’s gasps grew stronger and louder as she tried to keep her tears in check. She’d been so certain of Max Kendall’s guilt that she’d overlooked her missing keys. If only she’d checked her purse earlier. If only Max hadn’t been on this ship. If only, if only . . .
“—You must go back to Bellingham,” Stone insisted. “If you choose to continue, we can’t be responsible.”
Daisy buried her face in her palms.
Max glanced in her direction, shook off his sympathy. Trying to skirt Daisy’s disaster, he hobbled toward the door, unaccustomed to the burdensome splint immobilizing his knee.
Stone put a hand on Daisy’s
Daisy returned the page to Stone. “I think so. Damn.” An officer, a gentleman, and a cross-dressing felon.
“All we can do is alert the Canadian officials and hope they find him. At least he left your passport and travel documents. But I wouldn’t hold out much hope for recovering your money or finding your Lexus anytime soon.”
Tears welled in Daisy’s eyes. “But he was wearing a uniform.” Her lower lip quivered. “And he knew what the M/V stands for in front of Columbia ,” as if that made her trust in a stranger seem doubly reasonable.
“I’m afraid, Ms. Moon, it’s not a maritime secret that M/V stands for motor vessel . ”
“Motor vessel?” she squeaked.
Max Kendall turned away from the pitiful sight. “Can I go now?”
“Not so fast,” Keller said, obviously sympathetic to Daisy.
“What Deputy SO Keller means is—”
Max held up a palm to halt further explanation. From his wallet, he presented his Alaska driver’s license. Stone looked at it and handed it to Keller.
“You won’t be insulted if we verify this?” Keller returned the plastic to Max.
Max stuffed his ID into its slot. “Can I go?”
“Of course, Mr. Kendall,” the security chief told him, shooting a warning glance at Keller. “Sorry for the mix-up. But I’m sure you can understand how Ms. Moon—”
“No,” Max tersely interrupted. “I don’t understand how Ms. Moon does anything .” He struggled to rise on one leg from the seat he’d been forced into while defending himself against Daisy’s accusations.
Yes, it was coincidental that he and Daisy were on the same ferry. But the ferry he originally booked—with a cabin—sailed three weeks ago, and three weeks ago he was in the hospital, he’d informed them as Daisy averted her eyes from his accusatory stare. He was on the ferry now because he’d bought a truck in Seattle and was taking that same truck to Alaska, departing the ferry in Haines. He didn’t elaborate on his final destination, figuring the less Daisy knew about his life, the better, and by then Stone seemed satisfied that Max Kendall was just an innocent bystander in Daisy Moon’s mixed-up world.
Why Daisy was on the Columbia , Max didn’t know. But he’d stopped himself from asking. The last thing he wanted was to get involved in Daisy’s life. He didn’t care what her latest turmoil was or what tragedy had caused her to flee Seattle. The woman was an albatross.
“What am I going to do?” Daisy asked to no one in particular. “I have no money, no credit cards, no Lex-us,” she lamented, her breath in little hops. “My pots and pans, my knives . . . my recipes ,” she added, just now realizing what the theft of her Lexus meant.
Max turned a deaf ear to Daisy’s plight; he had troubles of his own.
“Don’t worry, Ms. Moon, we’ll get you back to Bellingham,” Stone assured her. “Tomorrow, when we dock in Ketchikan, we can put you on a ferry going south.”
“But . . . I’m not going to Bellingham.”
“If you continue, what will you do when we reach Haines?” Stone asked. “You’ll be stranded. We arrive Saturday and the banks will be closed. Even if money is wired to you, you won’t get it until Monday morning. Where would you stay the weekend? You have no vehicle, no way to keep going—”
Daisy’s gasps grew stronger and louder as she tried to keep her tears in check. She’d been so certain of Max Kendall’s guilt that she’d overlooked her missing keys. If only she’d checked her purse earlier. If only Max hadn’t been on this ship. If only, if only . . .
“—You must go back to Bellingham,” Stone insisted. “If you choose to continue, we can’t be responsible.”
Daisy buried her face in her palms.
Max glanced in her direction, shook off his sympathy. Trying to skirt Daisy’s disaster, he hobbled toward the door, unaccustomed to the burdensome splint immobilizing his knee.
Stone put a hand on Daisy’s
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