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Orca Book Publishers - Martha Brack Martin

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49 pages

English

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Sixteen-year-old Tom LeFave is trying to hold his world together. His family's marina is struggling. His dad is full of secrets. And the quarterback of the football team hates his guts. When a huge yacht docks at Tom's marina, things look brighter, especially when he meets Kat, the daughter of the boat's owner. Kat and Tom share a love of rum-running history. It's not long, however, before Tom starts to realize there's something more than history happening on the river. And if Tom can't figure it out in time, he just might be history too.

Sujets

Univers ado

Suspense

Thrillers

Young Adult Fiction

Teaching English as a foreign language

English as a foreign or second language

Detroit River

EAL

Electronic Sports League

Suspenso

Informations

Publié par	Orca Book Publishers
Date de parution	18 octobre 2016
Nombre de lectures	3
EAN13	9781459813380
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0470€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

River Traffic

Martha Brack Martin
O rca s o undings
ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS
Copyright 2016 Martha Brack Martin
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Martin, Martha, 1967-, author River traffic / Martha Brack Martin. (Orca soundings)
Issued in print and electronic formats. ISBN 978-1-4598-1336-6 (paperback).- ISBN 978-1-4598-1337-3 (pdf).- ISBN 978-1-4598-1338-0 (epub).
I. Title. II. Series: Orca soundings PS 8626. A 77255 R 58 2016 j C 813'.6 C 2016-900546-1 C 2016-900547- X
First published in the United States, 2016 Library of Congress Control Number: 2016931883
Summary: In this high-interest novel for teens, Tom gets involved in smuggling on the Detroit River while trying to save the family marina.
Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.
Cover image by iStock.com
ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS www.orcabook.com
19 18 17 16 4 3 2 1
This book is for my first family, the Bracks, and my second family, the Martins.
The former gave me dreams to dream, and the latter are my dreams come true. I love you all.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter One
I had only seconds to spare. The other machine was right on my tail. If I turned too soon, I d be dead.
I squeezed the throttle and pulled ahead a few more meters.
I risked a second glance back at the other Jet Ski in my wake. It was closing in! I carved the water as I swung my machine to the right
And suddenly I was airborne.
I felt the yank on my life jacket as I flew off, taking the ignition key with me. Then a shock as I hit the cold river water.
Coming up, I checked on my machine. It was nearby, bobbing in the waves. Nate held the steering wheel. He didn t look as thrilled as I thought he would. After all, he d just won our race.
You beat me! Why aren t you happy? I yelled. Nate was looking past me, over my shoulder.
I whipped my head around.
Dominik Oleg, the biggest jerk in the world, was in a sleek speedboat idling just behind me. His ride must have cost at least $80,000. He looked down at me as I bobbed in the water.
Of course he won. Oleg smirked, moving his boat closer as Nate brought my Jet Ski over. You could never win any race with that piece of crap, LeFave.
He could have if you didn t swamp his machine! Nate yelled over the motor.
Hey, I can t help it if your friend doesn t know how to drive, Murphy. Maybe you shouldn t hang around with losers. Stick with the guys on the team.
Just because Oleg was the quarterback, he thought he could tell the rest of the team what to do. Especially the younger ones like Nate.
I can pick my own friends, thanks.
I was glad to see Nate wasn t backing down. I just hoped Oleg didn t make him pay for it later.
Whatever. Oleg pointed at my Jet Ski. Did you borrow that from your daddy s dumpy marina? Bet no one else wanted it.
Shut up, Oleg. At least I paid for my machine myself. I didn t need my daddy to buy it for me.
Oleg s eyes flared. I knew I d hit a nerve.
You don t know what you re talking about, LeFave. I m making so much bank right now, I don t need my father to buy me anything. And it s only gonna get better, he bragged.
Yeah, sure it is. Cause you re a high roller. In your mind at least, I said.
Listen. Oleg pointed at Boblo Island behind him. I could just see the row of million-dollar mansions through the trees on the shore. I knew he lived in the biggest one. You boys are playing in my backyard. And you re way out of your league. He suddenly honked his boat s horn, scaring the crap out of Nate and me. His grin was a nasty threat.
Don t play with the big boys. You won t like how the game ends.
Chapter Two
I had lots of time to think about my run-in with Dominik Oleg the next day after school. I was volunteering at the LaSalle police station. I did it every Monday after school for a couple of hours. Nate s dad was one of LaSalle s finest. He knew I needed the hours to graduate.
Are you still only able to help out Mondays, Tom? Nate s dad asked.
Yeah, sorry, Officer Murphy. Dad needs me after school at the marina the other days. At least until winter. Working for Dad at our marina didn t pay well-or at all-but he needed me. We were struggling as it was. Since Mom left, Dad s heart wasn t in the business.
That s why Oleg s cracks really bugged me.
You let me know if things change. You re a good help around here.
That s nice of you to say. But I know I don t do much. I try though.
I always knew you d do well here. He looked around the new station. You re a kid who pays attention. You d make a good cop.
Thanks. I could feel a big grin take over my face. I love helping out here. I get to hear what s going on. It s interesting.
It is, at that. People think a small town like ours has nothing happening. But we have our share of crime.
Maybe it s in our blood. Because of our rum-running history, I mean. I grinned.
LaSalle really took off in the 1920s and early 30s. That s when Prohibition made it against the law to buy or sell booze. Canadians could still make it though. Most of our area got in on the smuggling of Canadian booze to Michigan. Our marina is built on one of the creeks my dad s family used for sneaking whiskey across the river.
I m not sure our history has much to do with it, Nate s dad said, smiling. Our town is growing fast. It s not surprising people find a way of getting into trouble.
I guess. You guys seem to have your hands full with speeders and small-town stuff.
He laughed. We don t tell you everything, you know. Then he got more serious. Listen. You know how I said you were good at paying attention?
Yes, sir. I wondered where this was going.
Nate told me you boys were out on the river yesterday. Was Officer Murphy going to lecture me about racing with Nate?
With the weather still so nice, the traffic on the river is almost as busy as in summer. We could use some more eyes out there. I must have looked confused, because he went on. Just let me know if you see anything unusual.
Okay, sure. I can do that.
Around your marina too. I mean, you re right on the river there. He was looking at me closely. Have you noticed any strangers?
No, sir. We aren t exactly super busy. New people would stand out.
Okay, Nate s dad said. I ve said this to Nate too. But we both know he s about as observant as mud. We laughed as he headed back to his office.
Soon it was time for me to leave. I grabbed my backpack and said goodbye to the dispatcher. As I walked through the outside door, Officer Murphy popped his head around the partition.
Just remember what I said, Tom. He paused. Keep your eyes and ears open around the river.
Chapter Three
Saturday morning at our marina isn t exactly busy. I wanted to sleep in, but Dad expected me to be on the job at eight. Since Mom left, he d been staying up later and later. In the last couple of months he d started working in the old shed at the waterfront. At least, he says he s working. I m not allowed to go out there anymore, so who knows? I don t smell booze on him or his clothes, but I wouldn t be surprised if he s slugging back a few out there. He s in such a cranky, crappy mood all the time, I m not willing to push my luck and explore.
Our marina still has regulars, but they re mostly locals who ve kept their boats here for years. Dad s always been a great mechanic-he can fix anything-so that draws a few customers too. Still, the fancier marinas have all the bells and whistles. We don t usually get much traffic.
That s why I was amazed when a Carver 43 Super Sport pulled into our channel. She was incredible! I wished Dominik Oleg could see her parked in our marina. She put his boat to shame. I estimated she was worth close to half a million.
The sun reflected off her bimini cover, so I couldn t see who was driving. I expected the yacht to reverse any second. I wasn t stupid-our marina wasn t up to the standards of a boat like that.
I couldn t believe it when the pilot moved the Carver into docking position.
I ran and tied up the rope on the bow. As the pilot shut off the engine, I moved to the stern. I was just reaching to grab its mooring rope when I heard footsteps.
That s when I got my second surprise.
A pair of long, curvy, suntanned legs started down the steps-and I almost stopped breathing. The legs were followed by cutoff denim shorts that fit really well. Thank God the owner of those legs didn t see my face before I realized I was standing there, stunned, with my mouth wide open. I snapped back to reality just in time to close it before the rest of her came into view.
Hey there! the girl said in a cute Southern accent. She was smiling from ear to ear with this great smile I knew would haunt my sleep for days. She couldn t have been older than seventeen or eighteen. She pointed at the mooring rope I still held. Thanks for giving me a hand. I m Kat. Well, really Kathleen. But no one calls me that except my dad. She put out a tanned hand for me to shake.
Hi. Welcome to LeFave s Marine and Repair. I gestured behind me with a little ta-da motion and tried not to l