As the hours dragged on, the last team gave up on the idea of renting a boat and had started making hard inquiries about paying cash for a few inexpensive speedboats advertised at some of the marina stores. They were in the process of convincing one of the owners to drop everything and trail the boat to the lake, where they’d pay cash on the spot if he could demonstrate that the boat worked.

Marnie was asleep on the other settee. She’d been out for a while now, having tipped her ball cap over her face about an hour and a half ago. Devin got up and put one of the beach blankets they’d purchased this morning over her legs so she didn’t wake up with a sunburn. She stirred for a moment and went still. He’d kill for a nap right now, or a swim to cool down, but he didn’t want to wake Marnie. Maybe he could quietly slip into the water for a few minutes?

Devin took off his shirt. He made his way to the platform at the back of the boat and had just started down the ladder when a pontoon boat burst into the Woods Hollow at full speed, Rich and his team hooting and hollering the entire way to Devin’s anchorage. Marnie bolted upright, looking at him, confused. He quickly climbed back on deck and grabbed the railing to steady himself before the other boat’s bow wave hit.

“Hang on!” he said, worried she might topple off the couch.

She grabbed the railing above the cushion as the wave rocked the boat—nowhere near as forcefully as he had imagined. A pontoon boat was, after all, one of the most stable platforms on the water. Marnie yawned and stretched as Rich swung back around and idled his boat alongside.

“Do you think one anchor will hold both boats?” asked Rich.

“I’m not the expert,” said Devin, glancing toward Marnie.

“We didn’t cover pontoon boat anchoring in the Marine Corps,” she said. “But I think we’d be better off swinging around on one anchor than two. And there’s no breeze to speak of, so I think one will do it.”

Devin reached off the port side to grab the other boat. Marnie leaned over the couch and did the same, the two of them keeping the boats in place while Jared and Emily tied them together. Rich killed his engine and wiped the sweat off his brow. Scott immediately went to work on the pontoon boat’s canopy.

“Sorry about the dramatic entry,” he said. “Something about boats brings out the kid in me.”

“I believe the term you’re looking for is immature jackass,” said Jared. “He was like that the entire trip down. Not kidding. We’re carrying several life sentences in weapons and ammunition—and he’s weaving around like a drunk.”