Free A Mischief of Mermaids by Suzanne Harper Page B

Emerson, do you want me to weigh anchor?”
    â€œYes, we’ve got it now,” said Mr. Malone. “I’m setting a course for ten degrees south by thirty degrees southwest. Full speed ahead!”

Chapter
SEVEN
    â€œO f course, when I said ‘full speed ahead,’ I didn’t mean ‘full speed into the closest sandbar and please try to hit a tree while you’re at it,’” said Mr. Malone. He gave a little chuckle. “I’m afraid my family takes everything I say a bit too literally.”
    â€œUh-huh.” Officer Dan Deetline of the Austin Police Department jotted down a few notes.
    The other Malones were standing by the railing, leaning over the water to inspect the bow of the houseboat. It had been crunched by a startling collision with a sandbank. An old oak tree, hard as iron, had stood on the bank, half submerged in water. Now it seemed to be clutching the front of the houseboat in its branches.
    The officer glanced up from his notebook and gave Mr. Malone a stern look. “What I don’t get is why you were saying ‘full speed ahead’ in the first place. It was too dark to see anything, and these houseboats aren’t exactly made for racing. What was so all-fired important you had to get over to this side of the lake so quick?”
    â€œWell, you see, my son Will was at the helm,” Mr. Malone began, then he chuckled again.
    Poppy recognized this chuckle. It was the one her father always used when confronted by Authority.
    This happened rather often in the course of a paranormal investigation. A highway patrolman wanted to know why he was driving ninety miles an hour on West Virginia mountain roads (he was pursuing Moth Man). A security guard wanted to know why he was trying to enter an office building after midnight (he hoped to capture the ghostly whispers of an accountant who loved his job so much he kept working—forty years after he’d died). And a police officer wanted to know why he was trespassing on a farmer’s land (he was so focused on his pursuit of a zombie that was rumored to be roaming about the woods that he hadn’t even seen the “Keep Out!” signs).
    The chuckle was supposed to sound amused, carefree, lighthearted. It was the chuckle of a man who couldn’t imagine why he was being questioned by Authority.
    Poppy had never seen The Chuckle work. She searched Officer Deetline’s face to see if her father might do better with it tonight.
    But Officer Deetline’s expression was stony.
    â€œUh-huh,” he said. “So you’re saying this is your son’s fault?”
    â€œEr, well,” Mr. Malone began, flustered.
    â€œOh, sure, it was all my fault,” Will said hotly. “This whole shipwreck was my mistake. Just like it was my mistake when you pointed at that light in the sky and yelled that the aliens would get away if I didn’t open up the throttle—”
    Officer Deetline’s expression didn’t change, but Poppy thought that she saw one eyebrow move up ever so slightly. “Aliens?”
    â€œYes, we were chasing a UFO,” Mr. Malone said. He turned to Will and added testily, “And I remember quite well what I said. Naturally, I assumed that you were capable of using good old fashioned common sense.”
    â€œAnd I’m sure I was in the wrong when I followed your orders to make a sharp turn to starboard so that Mom could get a better angle with the AlienScope,” Will finished heatedly. “It’s all clear to me now. We wouldn’t be about to sink to the bottom of the lake and die horrible drowning deaths if it weren’t for me and the way I actually listen to what you say and then do it!”
    â€œNow, now,” said Mrs. Malone in what was clearly meant to be a soothing voice. “I just checked out the cabin. There is a tiny, tiny leak, but the water’s not coming in terribly fast. I doubt we’ll sink, will we,