BooksBarbecue
Back Blood in the Water
Chapters (82)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  4. ONE
  5. TWO
  6. THREE
  7. FOUR
  8. FIVE
  9. SIX
  10. SEVEN
  11. EIGHT
  12. NINE
  13. TEN
  14. ELEVEN
  15. TWELVE
  16. THIRTEEN
  17. FOURTEEN
  18. FIFTEEN
  19. SIXTEEN
  20. SEVENTEEN
  21. EIGHTEEN
  22. NINETEEN
  23. TWENTY
  24. TWENTY-ONE
  25. TWENTY-TWO
  26. TWENTY-THREE
  27. TWENTY-FOUR
  28. TWENTY-FIVE
  29. TWENTY-SIX
  30. TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. TWENTY-NINE
  33. THIRTY
  34. THIRTY-ONE
  35. THIRTY-TWO
  36. THIRTY-THREE
  37. THIRTY-FOUR
  38. THIRTY-FIVE
  39. THIRTY-SIX
  40. THIRTY-SEVEN
  41. THIRTY-EIGHT
  42. THIRTY-NINE
  43. FORTY
  44. FORTY-ONE
  45. FORTY-TWO
  46. FORTY-THREE
  47. FORTY-FOUR
  48. FORTY-FIVE
  49. FORTY-SIX
  50. FORTY-SEVEN
  51. FORTY-EIGHT
  52. FORTY-NINE
  53. FIFTY
  54. FIFTY-ONE
  55. FIFTY-TWO
  56. FIFTY-THREE
  57. FIFTY-FOUR
  58. FIFTY-FIVE
  59. FIFTY-SIX
  60. FIFTY-SEVEN
  61. FIFTY-EIGHT
  62. FIFTY-NINE
  63. SIXTY
  64. SIXTY-ONE
  65. SIXTY-TWO
  66. SIXTY-THREE
  67. SIXTY-FOUR
  68. SIXTY-FIVE
  69. SIXTY-SIX
  70. SIXTY-SEVEN
  71. SIXTY-EIGHT
  72. SIXTY-NINE
  73. SEVENTY
  74. SEVENTY-ONE
  75. SEVENTY-TWO
  76. SEVENTY-THREE
  77. SEVENTY-FOUR
  78. SEVENTY-FIVE
  79. SEVENTY-SIX
  80. Praise for Blood in the Water
  81. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  82. Newsletter Sign-up

Nate Chaplain let out a groan as he secured the line to the trap and pushed it into the icy water off the transomless stern of the Sunny Day. He could imagine no vessel less aptly named. She was a thirty-five-foot Maine lobster boat that had first touched water long before Nate’s parents were old enough to copulate. She’d seen close to four decades of storms and showed the wear of each and every one of them in the grime and gunk caked to her hull and the scrapes and scratches etched in her deck. Like the men who had broken their backs and souls on her, pulling bottom feeders from the Boston waterways over the years, she was low and squat and steady in her pace. Nate Chaplain hated her, and hated even more the idea that he had been given the task of working her on such a frigid day. As he and two other men hauled the massive traps out of the ice-filled harbor, their heavy rubber gloves provided some protection from the ever-present risk of losing a finger on the gear but granted no warmth or comfort beyond that.

How the fuck did this become my life?

The thought rang in his ears over and over, so clear it could have been recorded digitally and laid down on a loop in his brain to play forever, or at least until he was back on land.

He should never have gone to work that morning. When he left the Mariner last night, he’d planned to take the day off, consequences be damned. Buddy Cavanaugh had warned against missing yet another day. Union membership had its privileges; it provided a steady stream of work, both legitimate and not. It couldn’t be taken for granted, though. Enough slips, or offense given to the wrong person, and Nate’s union card could easily be yanked, Buddy had reminded him as they parted ways. The point resonated with annoying accuracy, so Nate had pulled himself out of bed at an early hour and headed in to work to help unload the Greek cargo ship.

When he’d gotten to work, though, he’d been told that he would be filling in on the Sunny Day for a crew member who had broken an arm the day before. It wasn’t the norm, but it wasn’t unheard of. Many of the local fishing captains and lobster men paid tribute to Cormack to avoid hassles and so that everyone would look the other way when their holds were used to transport drugs. And, in any event, Nate had been told that the order came directly from O’Connell himself, so he knew not to ask questions.