Free The Pickle Boat House by Louise Gorday Page A

was just the gleaming white tip of the iceberg. Below the surface floated the dirty, bloated ice that could sink ships with utter indifference.
    HYA usually got what it wanted, and what it wanted right now was land— Nevis land. Nevis was a rich resource, though not in the usual minerals, oil, or agriculture. Instead, it was rich in location. Strategically situated on the Chesapeake Bay, it had easy access to the sea—a sea too vast to be effectively monitored or patrolled by authorities.
    Hector Young and Associates liked to do its own research, never accepting anything at face value. That was what made it so successful. One didn’t achieve success like that by taking anything for granted, especially the competition. Killer instinct was key. HYA’s first order of business was to find out whom it was dealing with—who owned the land.
    Ryan and Hector spent the better part of the first afternoon scouring the land records for the surrounding area. Both were lawyers, and Ryan was particularly well schooled on land records in the region. The Nevis courthouse should have what they needed. The problem was that over the preceding 350 years, no one had developed a system to keep track of all the records. Shelves and boxes overflowed with liber and folio.
    “Do you think we might get some help from Lilly Librarian over there?” Hector asked Ryan.
    “Probably not,” Ryan said. “She said land records could be anywhere in here. Any more info than that, and I suspect we’re on our own. She’s busy lining her pencils up straight.” The librarian briefly looked in their direction and then, satisfied that all was well, went back to straightening the front desk.
    Hector took a step back and ran his gaze up and down box upon box of all manner of written documents, each packed box an unlabeled surprise.
    “No index for all this?” he muttered. “Shit, we could be here forever!”
    “You could always go home and stay out of my way.”
    “I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction,” Hector said, pulling down a cardboard file box. The top slid off, and it began to rain papers down on his head and out across the little room, covering him in the musty smell of crackly old paper.
    “Shit.”
    Ryan laughed. “Suit yourself,” he muttered.
    They spent the next few days pulling down and sifting through every box and piece of paper they could find, never quite sure what they were looking for, knowing only that they hadn’t found it yet. Working at separate ends of the room seemed to work best, the distance between them lowering the aggravation factor. For all his faults, Hector was shrewd, sharp, and speedy, reviewing documents much faster than Ryan could get through them. And in that respect, Ryan was glad to have him helping. Hector, in turn, was happy as long as he knew where Ryan was and what he was doing.
    Ryan couldn’t concentrate, because his mind kept returning to Van. More than once he had to backtrack and remind himself of the task at hand. He had been with plenty of women. But this one was different: strong minded and smart. For once, the attraction wasn’t entirely about lust. Not that she didn’t have the whole package. He could get lost in those big brown eyes, and never mind how interested he was in the land—he found her topography far more intriguing. Still, she got under his skin. Ryan wiped his sweaty forehead and took a long breath to calm the guilty feeling beginning to roil in his stomach. Damn it, that woman! Nagging emotions and disconnected thoughts floated around in him, weightless and rootless. He didn’t need any more conflict in his life than he already had. He should let Hector handle her.
    He looked up to find Hector watching him, as if keenly fascinated by something in Ryan’s demeanor. Jesus help me, Ryan thought as he turned his face away. This was a weakness he couldn’t afford. He had to cut the bonds that were beginning to form between him and Vanessa Hardy.
    On the fifth day of their