They were in for some rain. This whole thing had taken longer than Lucy thought. Galen had been alone for hours. What if he overdosed on Vicodin or something? She pushed her speed up to seventy all the way to the turnoff from Highway 37. Past the Quik Stop, she took the dirt road at more like twenty but still faster than was probably safe and parked in the gravel lot. She gathered an armload of bags and let herself in through the gate. Down at the other end of the dock from the Camelot, a very suntanned, older, sailor-looking guy worked on his boat. He looked up but didn’t greet her. Just as well. She and Galen weren’t supposed to fraternize. A kid maybe sixteen came up on deck from a boat about halfway down, followed by a huge black wolf-looking dog. Who kept a dog that big on a boat? She hurried past as they played tug with a piece of old rope. At slip eighteen she stepped aboard and climbed down into the cockpit. The hatch to below decks wasn’t locked. Had she forgotten to lock it?
