After parking and covering the car, Stormy and I made our way down to the crowded collection of boats. We easily spotted what we were looking for; it was the only boat with yellow police tape draped around it. Sitting next to it was a uniformed police officer reading a tattered paperback. The police officer looked up from his book when we approached. He was young and his eyes shifted between us. “Is the cat with you?”
“Don’t leave home without him.”
“Yeah.” Stormy smiled. “He thinks he’s a dog.” Stormy hit a new low with that one, and I guarantee it’ll cost him. I think I’m a dog – that will be the day. Don’t be surprised when you find a fur ball in your favorite shoes, I growled.
Back in the car, Stormy sat behind the wheel and watched a half dozen seagulls fight over a dropped bag of fries.
“That’s as bad as it gets Salty. I don’t know how the cops deal with that every day.” Stormy started the car, put his hand on the gearshift and paused. “Let’s give Dave a call.” Stormy’s younger brother Dave lived in Maine with his wife Lisa and two kids.
“Hey bro,” Dave answered. “How’s life in Hollyweird?”
“Getting weirder by the minute.” Stormy replied.
By Salty Tails (with a little help from Richard Stephens.)
Read more from my first book, “Pirate Tales.”