“New trucks are expensive,” he said.
“How much?”
Okay, so we’re going to discuss the price of fire trucks. Fine. He could talk about that all night. Or at least for the next nine minutes until he could unload his beautiful but strange passenger.
“In my opinion, Starlight Point should get a ladder truck. Something close to a hundred feet tall just in case of an accident on a coaster. It would also be good in case of a hotel fire. The center structure of the Lake Breeze is ten stories, so you’d need a hundred-foot ladder.”
Evie nodded. “And how much does a ladder truck like that cost?”
“Easily half a million if you buy a new one.”
His passenger laughed.
Doesn’t she realize new trucks come with insurance savings and, more importantly, the potential to save lives?
“There’s nothing funny about fire safety,” he said.
Evie sighed. “So I’ve heard. Sadly, I don’t have half a million bucks buried on the beach or hidden under the Silver Streak.” She swiveled in her seat and faced him. “Can you believe some picky new fire inspector from Bayside is giving us all kinds of grief on the marina project?”
Scott’s insides felt like an ice-cube tray someone was shuffling to break up the cubes. And why was she saying us like she owned the place?
“Grief?” he asked.
“Fussy stuff. Signs, some valve, something about an electrical panel, and a fire lane that’s too narrow.”
“Those sound like serious problems,” he said.
Evie cranked her window down a few inches. Apparently she didn’t care about the stray raindrops coming in since she was already soaked. Maybe it would help the steam problem they were having.
Anything would help right now.
“The previous fire inspector approved the whole plan,” she continued. “Everything. I thought we were fine until the new guy crumpled up my dream project like last week’s newspaper.”
She rolled the window all the way down. Waved at people inside the fence. Waved at more people and called them by name.
Does my hitchhiking passenger know everyone at Starlight Point?
Scott slowed as he approached the hotel gate and came to a full stop when the police officer held up his hand.
The old man stepped onto the running board and leaned in the window. “Thought I saw you in there, Evie. Big day for you with your new marina opening.” The officer patted Scott on the shoulder. “Take good care of my girl.”
Scott pulled away and headed for the gate outside the Scrambler.
“How long did you say you’d worked here?” he asked.
“All my life. My parents owned Starlight Point until a few years ago when my father died. My brother and sister and I run it now.”
Evie Hamilton. That was the name on the paperwork for the marina project. A project he’d stalled after uncovering fire code violations the previous inspector hadn’t noticed or didn’t care about.
“I’m Evie Hamilton,” she said.
“I figured that out—now.” He reached across and shook hands with her without taking his eyes off the road. “Scott Bennett.”
“Nice to meet you. And thanks for the ride. I hope you like working here for the summer.”
“Me, too.”
“Are you full-time somewhere else?”
He wasn’t ready to tell her all about his full-time job. Not while he was trapped in a truck with her. Only a quarter of a mile to go.
Evie leaned toward him and cocked her head, obviously waiting for an answer.
“What I mean is that most of our summer firefighters have other full-time jobs. I was just curious.”
“I’m full-time for the City of Bayside.”
Evie nodded. “I live in downtown Bayside. I just moved into my own place. Maybe I’ll see you there. But I’m more likely to see you around here.”
Scott nosed the truck up to the gate and put on the parking brake.
“Close as I can get.”
“I know. I don’t mind a short walk in the rain. I’m wet anyway.” She picked up her shoes from the floor of the truck.
“You should put those on. You could step on something sharp.”
She laughed. “Thanks for the safety tip. But putting wet feet in wet shoes is almost as lousy as feuding with the local fire inspector”
Evie opened her door and slid out. Gave him a little wave. And slammed the door of the fire truck.
At least she left the window down so he could see in the side mirror as he backed slowly away from the corporate office where he knew he’d be about as welcome as a mosquito bite right now. As soon as Evie connected the dots and realized the fire inspector from Bayside who’d rained on her parade also worked part-time for her own company, he’d better be ready to hand in his employee badge.
Scott thought of his baby sister, twenty years old and working at Starlight Point for the summer. He had to keep this job if he wanted to keep watch over the only sister he had left.
EVIE TOOK OFF her name tag, dropped it in her purse and settled into her usual seat behind the ferry’s tall wheelhouse. From the backward-facing seat, she could watch Starlight Point slip away. On the short trip from Starlight Point to Bayside, she was just another passenger. Not an owner of the amusement park that had been in her family since before she was born.
Evie loved Starlight Point like she loved her sister’s smile, her brother’s eyes, her mother’s laugh and the memory of her father. But tonight she just wanted to enjoy the twenty-minute-ride home.
Home. The third-floor flat above Aunt Augusta’s Downtown Bakery was still new to her. But she was starting to call it home. Too large a space for one person, the flat had two rooms—a spare bedroom and bathroom—that were completely empty. Her brother’s house on the Old Road at the Point used to be a half-barren bachelor pad, but he’d traded houses with their mother. He was now living in their parents’ house with his wife. Already the rooms were filling with the contraptions that seemed to go with babies, and the baby shower coming up would add even more.
Maybe her empty apartment wasn’t so bad. It was quiet, organized...and the first place she’d ever lived alone.
Evie pulled off the band holding her hair back and ran her fingers through the long strands. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the center island of the ferry, feeling the hum of the boat’s motor. The bay was calm, the breeze light, the June evening warm. If her old blue sedan actually had any life left in it, she’d be missing this beautiful ride and making the daily drive in traffic to the Point.
After a twenty-minute trip, the ferry docked and Evie waited for the other passengers to leave. The moms and dads, friends and teenagers were in more of a hurry than she was. They headed for their cars parked in the wide downtown lot. She hoped they’d had a wonderful day at Starlight Point. Judging from their flushed cheeks and sleepy-eyed kids, it looked that way.
“Good night, Evie.”
She turned. Smiled.
“See you tomorrow, Ken,” she said to the retired navy officer who had ferried Starlight Point guests for at least a decade.
“I