Twenty-Eight
Bash was almost used to the sight of his father walking through the door of the Olde Salt.
Almost.
Curt Rivers usually stepped inside looking awkward and tentative, as if asking Bash’s permission. He only stayed as long as he needed to complete whatever mission he was on—pick up Amy, grab something from Judy. Then he left as quickly as he could. He would nod to Bash, say hello, make some comment about the harbor or the weather and that was the extent of it.
Until one day, not long after the summer solstice, he burst through the old oak door of the Olde Salt as if his hair was on fire.
Or as if he’d taken a hit of something.
With wild, bloodshot eyes, he hurried toward Bash, who was covering for Judy while she went to a doctor’s appointment. It was a slow afternoon at the
