Low Tide by Dawn Lee McKenna Page A

and followed Wyatt around to the front. They stood near the top of the stairs as David got out of the truck. Wyatt turned to Maggie.
    “And now we’re filming a Lifetime movie,” he said.
    David knelt down and rubbed Coco, who was falling apart at his feet, then stood and smiled up at Maggie and Wyatt.
    “Hey guys,” he said. “I’m sorry, is this a bad time?”
    “No, I was just about to head home,” Wyatt said, and started down the stairs. He stopped and turned back to Maggie. “We’ll talk later about that evidence, Maggie. I think you’ll find it convincing.”
    “Okay,” Maggie managed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    Wyatt continued down the stairs. “If you hear from her, call me.”
    “I will.” Maggie followed Wyatt down to the driveway, where he stuck a hand out to David.
    “How are ya, David?”
    “Good, Wyatt. You?”
    “Hanging in there,” Wyatt said as they shook.
    “Well, keep safe.”
    “You, too.” Wyatt raised a hand over his head to Maggie and walked to his truck. He opened his door and glanced back at her, then got in and drove away, leaving Maggie and David standing in the yard.
    Maggie watched Wyatt pull onto the dirt drive, then looked at the man who used to be her husband. He looked good, and so familiar. His glossy, black hair was just below the collar of the flannel shirt he wore open over a tee shirt. He would look much younger without the closely-trimmed beard. He was much shorter and slighter than Wyatt, only five-ten and athletically slim.
    Maggie looked at him as he stood there with his hands in his jeans pockets, and her son’s big, pretty eyes looked back at her.
    “I’m sorry, babe,” he said. “Sky and I were texting today and she said they were spending the night with your folks. I figured you were alone.”
    “It was just work,” Maggie said.
    He half-smiled at her and shook his head just once. “No, it wasn’t. But you have the right, Maggie.”
    Maggie sighed. “Well, we were just talking.”
    “I’m sorry I barged in. Mostly sorry.”
    He took his hands out of his pockets and walked up, put his arms around her.
    “How are you?” he asked as she hugged him back.
    “I’m okay. How are you?”
    He stood back, scratched Coco on the neck.
    “I’m good. I just got back from two weeks in Mobile, wanted to check on you.”
    “What were you doing in Mobile?” she asked.
    “I helped a guy rebuild the engine on his shrimp boat,” David said. “He’s gonna give me a good deal on a boat in return.”
    “You’re buying a boat?” Maggie asked, surprised.
    “Well, yeah. I’m not living on that houseboat just ’cause I’m cheap,” he said, almost shyly. “I’m saving up to pay cash this time.”
    “That’s good, David. I’m glad, really.”
    David nodded at her. “You look tired, babe. Are you sleeping?”
    “Yeah. I’ve just been working a lot.”
    “I heard about Gregory Boudreaux. That must have sucked.”
    Maggie kept from rubbing her arms by sheer force of will.
    “Yeah. Well.”
    “I guess I feel sorry for the guy, but he was kind of an ass. I’ve seen him at Papa Joe’s a few times, hammered out of his mind.”
    Maggie avoided saying anything else by squatting down and scratching Coco. David watched her for a minute.
    “Hey,” he said quietly. She looked up at him. “I’m buying that boat.”
    “You should,” she said.
    “You’re trying to look encouraging, but I see you chewing on your lip.” He smiled and shrugged. “Hey, they’re gonna make pot legal, anyway.”
    Maggie didn’t want to answer the question he was thinking. She knew they’d never get back together, even if he did stop running pot.
    “Do you know Richard Alessi?” she asked.
    “I don’t deal with meth heads, Maggie, you know that.”
    “But you know who he is.”
    “Yeah, I know who he is. But I told you, I don’t even hang around with the pot people. Why are you asking about Alessi?”
    Maggie stood up and shrugged. “I’m just working on