Soundkeeper by Michael Hervey

windshield of his patrol boat was dry and stuck on like glue. A dolphin surfaced in the channel near his dock and chirped at him. This time he was certain it was the same one because it had the scar on its back near its dorsal fin. He could understand why people found it hard to resist the urge to feed the friendly creatures.
    It took him an hour and a half to remove everything that had once been in his stomach from his boat. After putting his ruined shoes in a trash can he walked barefoot to his cottage and picked up three sand burrs for his trouble, one of them lodging in the fresh cut in his instep.
    He showered outside in his clothes again then remembered he didn’t have any more fresh uniforms to change into. When he took off his wet pants his cell phone fell out of the pocket and clattered on the concrete and oyster shell floor of the shower. He flipped it open and the screen was blank with no signs of life. He doubted if a biologist ever had a morning like this.
    The phone in the cottage still worked, and after answering its ring he drove his patrol truck to the visitors’ parking lot to meet a lady whose station wagon had been broken into. He was wearing a pair of gym shorts and a US Fish and Wildlife Service sweatshirt since he didn’t have any clean uniforms, and she made him show her his identification before she would believe he was an officer. Someone had smashed a window in her car and took a GPS unit that had been attached to the windshield with a suction cup. He took all of the information from her that he needed for his report and gave her the case number for her insurance company.
    She said “You people should let everyone know it’s not safe to leave things in your car here.” It was clear to Hall that she believed her loss to be his fault. He pointed to a sign posted in front of her car with that exact warning.
    “You should make the sign bigger,” she said as she drove away.

Chapter Eighteen
    All morning long the rain had beaten down on the tin roof of the old fish house. Puddles on the floor that corresponded with the holes in the roof, and Gale had to move her bedroll three times to keep it dry. After Arnold and Blondie left yesterday, and she was certain that the old barge was far enough away, she called for help. After her voice gave out she beat on the floor with a piece of wood until her hands were tired and swollen. No one heard her. It was hot now in the old building since the clouds lifted and the sun filled the air with humidity.
    No matter how hard she tried she could not reach the window or the door. The chain allowed her a circle of movement that kept her several feet from all of the walls. More than once she saw rats scatter around the room or run across one of the rafters, but it wasn’t the four legged vermin that concerned her. She looked everywhere but couldn’t find anything small enough to try to pick the handcuff lock with. There was a pile of electrical wiring next to the television that looked promising, but it might as well have been the key itself. It was too far away. She would have to wait until she was free from the chain to make her escape.
    Arnold had checked on her twice this morning. He was working on the barge again, and if she understood the shouts and threats correctly, the doors on the bottom of the barge would not completely close after they dumped the load of contaminated soil yesterday. She heard Blondie leave in the truck late last night and hoped he wouldn’t come back, but knew that he probably would.
    Something moved in the corner of the room, and she turned her head to see what it was. She thought it was another rat but soon realized it was a small, skinny kitten. She opened a can of Vienna sausages Arnold gave her and eased toward the skittish cat. Gale put the can on the floor, sat next to it and hummed quietly, waiting to see if he would come closer.
    Within a few minutes the kitten was eating out of the can, and a few minutes after that he was