Emma raked stiff fingers through her hair and hooked the phone with her other hand, pacing as far as the side window as she tried to hold on to her patience. “No, Simon. The last time I let you borrow it, you left the tanks empty.”“I said I was sorry. Please, Emma. Plee—eease?”It was the same drawn out whine that he’d perfected during his childhood when he wanted to wheedle something out of his big sister. Despite her firm intentions, she felt herself soften. “You know how important the log is. Even if you didn’t want to take the trouble to record it in the book, you could have at least left a note on the window. That’s what I keep that grease pencil in the cockpit for.”“I won’t forget again, I promise. Scout’s honor. Hope to die. But I really, really need to get to that lake. The assay results on my last samples were encouraging. This might be the break I was looking for.”“Not today, Simon. I have a customer.”“Another fisherman?”“Uh-huh.”“I don’t understand why you persist in that penny-ante stuff.
