“Shortcut gone bad. I was going from the marina to the corporate office and thought I’d just dash across the road and through the gate behind the train yard. But it was locked. So I was walking up the road to the next gate.”
“Why didn’t you go through the guest entrance by the marina?”
“I didn’t have a ticket,” she said. She laughed again.
He had no idea why that was funny.
He tightened his grip on the wheel. “I can take you as far as the gate behind the Scrambler. That will get you close to the corporate office.”
“Thank you.”
Despite the wisdom of it, Scott rued the ten-mile-per-hour speed limit. He turned on the defroster, hoping to clear the windshield, which was now steaming on the inside from their breath. It was going to take at least another ten minutes on the slow crawl around the Point.
“How old is this truck?” Evie asked.
“Older than both of us.”
“Maybe we should get a new one.”
We? She said she’d worked here a long time. Maybe it was the royal we. Or maybe she was crazy. After all, he did pick her up walking in the rain in a see-through white dress.
He was trying not to look at the dress.
“New trucks are expensive,” he said.
“How much?”
Okay, so we’re going to discuss the price of fire trucks. Fine. He could talk about that all night. Or at least for the next nine minutes until he could unload his beautiful but strange passenger.
“In my opinion, Starlight Point should get a ladder truck. Something close to a hundred feet tall just in case of an accident on a coaster. It would also be good in case of a hotel fire. The center structure of the Lake Breeze is ten stories, so you’d need a hundred-foot ladder.”
Evie nodded. “And how much does a ladder truck like that cost?”
“Easily half a million if you buy a new one.”
His passenger laughed.
Doesn’t she realize new trucks come with insurance savings and, more importantly, the potential to save lives?
“There’s nothing funny about fire safety,” he said.
Evie sighed. “So I’ve heard. Sadly, I don’t have half a million bucks buried on the beach or hidden under the Silver Streak.” She swiveled in her seat and faced him. “Can you believe some picky new fire inspector from Bayside is giving us all kinds of grief on the marina project?”
Scott’s insides felt like an ice-cube tray someone was shuffling to break up the cubes. And why was she saying us like she owned the place?
“Grief?” he asked.
“Fussy stuff. Signs, some valve, something about an electrical panel, and a fire lane that’s too narrow.”
“Those sound like serious problems,” he said.
Evie cranked her window down a few inches. Apparently she didn’t care about the stray raindrops coming in since she was already soaked. Maybe it would help the steam problem they were having.
Anything would help right now.
“The previous fire inspector approved the whole plan,” she continued. “Everything. I thought we were fine until the new guy crumpled up my dream project like last week’s newspaper.”
She rolled the window all the way down. Waved at people inside the fence. Waved at more people and called them by name.
Does my hitchhiking passenger know everyone at Starlight Point?
Scott slowed as he approached the hotel gate and came to a full stop when the police officer held up his hand.
The old man stepped onto the running board and leaned in the window. “Thought I saw you in there, Evie. Big day for you with your new marina opening.” The officer patted Scott on the shoulder. “Take good care of my girl.”
Scott pulled away and headed for the gate outside the Scrambler.
“How long did you say you’d worked here?” he asked.
“All my life. My parents owned Starlight Point until a few years ago when my father died. My brother and sister and I run it now.”
Evie Hamilton. That was the name on the paperwork for the marina project. A project he’d stalled after uncovering fire code violations the previous inspector hadn’t noticed or didn’t care about.
“I’m Evie Hamilton,” she said.
“I figured that out—now.” He reached across and shook hands with her without taking his eyes off the road. “Scott Bennett.”
“Nice to meet you. And thanks for the ride. I hope you like working here for the summer.”
“Me, too.”
“Are you full-time somewhere else?”
He wasn’t ready to tell her all about his full-time job. Not while he was trapped in a truck with her. Only a quarter of a mile to go.
Evie leaned toward him and cocked her head, obviously waiting for an answer.
“What I mean is that most of our summer firefighters have other full-time jobs. I was just curious.”
“I’m full-time for the City of Bayside.”
Evie nodded. “I live in downtown Bayside. I just moved into my own place. Maybe I’ll see you there. But I’m more likely to see you around here.”
Scott nosed the truck up to the gate and put on the parking brake.
“Close as I can get.”
“I know. I don’t mind a short walk in the rain. I’m wet anyway.” She picked up her shoes from the floor of the truck.
“You should put those on. You could step on something sharp.”
She laughed. “Thanks for the safety tip. But putting wet feet in wet shoes is almost as lousy as feuding with the local fire inspector”
Evie opened her door and slid out. Gave him a little wave. And slammed the door of the fire truck.
At least she left the window down so he could see in the side mirror as he backed slowly away from the corporate office where he knew he’d be about as welcome as a mosquito bite right now. As soon as Evie connected the dots and realized the fire inspector from Bayside who’d rained on her parade also worked part-time for her own company, he’d better be ready to hand in his employee badge.
Scott thought of his baby sister, twenty years old and working at Starlight Point for the summer.
