Troublemaker

CHAPTER 27

LETTING CONGRESSWOMAN KINGSLEY WALK-AT LEAST for now-went against the grain, but Morgan accepted that he’d have to let Axel do what he did best, which was handle crises. In an earlier time he’d have stayed, resumed his training, reintegrated into his team. But this was a different day, and he had to get back to Bo.

“You know how to get in touch with me,” he said as he let Axel out at the GO-Team headquarters. Darkness had fallen; even driving hard, he couldn’t make it back to Hamrickville before midnight. He could have gone to his condo and spent the night there, started out fresh in the morning, but he didn’t want to go to the condo. He wanted to look into Bo’s solemn dark eyes for himself, reassure himself she was all right even though he knew Jesse would have contacted him if anything went wrong. That was what he knew. What he felt was entirely different.

Startled, Axel said, “Where are you going?”

“Back to West Virginia.”

“Yeah, I guess you need to get your stuff.”

“No, I need to check on Bo, make sure she’s all right. We’re getting married.”

Axel’s eyes literally bugged out. “What? What? Are you crazy?”

“Team members can be married.”

“It isn’t that. It’s-are you crazy? This is my stepsister you’re talking about. She’s a vindictive viper. She’ll drive you nuts. She-”

“Yeah, she feels the same way about you.” One thing about it, those two were never going to reconcile their differences and become friends. Morgan didn’t much care; it wasn’t as if they were going to be spending their Christmases together.

“But-”

“But, nothing. We’re getting married. I asked, she said yes. You can be there if you want, but I warn you, you’ll have to be on your best behavior or the people in that town will take you apart on her behalf.”

Seeing that tactic was going nowhere, Axel shifted. “You need to get medically cleared, get back into training.” He paused. “I’m assuming you can pass the physical. You can, can’t you?”

“I wasn’t sure at first that I’d ever be able to get back into action, but yeah, I could pass the physical. I’ve been doing a lot of work on my own. That isn’t the point. The point is, I’m going back to Hamrickville. You take care of the congresswoman.”

That jerked Axel back to where his attention naturally focused. “She might walk,” he snarled. “We might not find a thing on Hubbert’s computer.”

“Taking care of problems is in your wheelhouse,” Morgan said. “Handle it.”

Axel closed the door, and Morgan put his foot to the gas pedal.

The first number he tried was Bo’s cell phone, but it went straight to voice mail, which told him it wasn’t turned on. The next number was Jesse’s.

“I’m on my way back,” he said. “How’s Bo?”

“She’s good. She’d lost enough blood she had to have a transfusion, but unless there’s a fever or something, she can go home in the morning.” Jesse sounded tired. “It’s been a shit-storm around here today. How are things on your end?”

“We didn’t get all the loose ends tied up, but we’re working on it. You don’t have to keep the lid on any longer. I’ll read you in on the details when I get there.” Better not say too much on a cell phone, which was about as private as an open door in a motel room.

“Got it. Are you coming by for Tricks?”

“You have her?”

“She’s here at the police station with me. I’m still working on the paperwork. I hate paperwork,” Jesse growled. “And there’s a shitload of it.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Uh huh. How far out are you?”

“Just got started. About three hours.”

“I’ll probably still be here.”

Relieved about Bo’s condition but needing to hear her voice anyway, Morgan ended that call and tried Bo again. Got voice mail again. He figured she was asleep, aided by some happy juice. He remembered too well how that went. But he’d rather she sleep than be in pain, so he settled in for a fast, hard drive, pushing to get back to her.

He made it in under three hours; he wheeled by the police station and saw the lights were still on, so he whipped into the rear parking lot and went in. Jesse looked up when he entered, leaned back in his chair, and yawned. “I finished just a few minutes ago.”

Tricks had been snoozing on her bed, but she woke and lifted her head. When she saw Morgan, she shot over to him, her tail wagging madly as she greeted him with a wiggling body and licking tongue. He went down on one knee and rubbed her ears, stroked her thick fur. “It’s been a long day for you too, hasn’t it, girl? Want to go home?” He shot a glance at Jesse. “Via the hospital. What room is she in?”

“308.”

“Is it one of those hospitals with strict visiting hours?”

“No, people pretty much come and go as they want. Relatives sit up with their sick folks, things like that.”

He stayed long enough to give Jesse a quick rundown of events and fill him in on what was going on. “Shit, that isn’t good,” Jesse said, after finding out that Congresswoman Kingsley might be untouchable. “If she sold out the country once, she’ll do it again.”

“If she were in any position to do it, but she won’t be. She’ll have a hard time now going to the bathroom without someone watching her. She might not be in prison, but she won’t be free.”

He had to be content with that too. It was a tough pill to swallow, but he’d let Axel do what Axel did.

He thought about taking Tricks home first, but the need to see Bo, see her for himself, was riding him hard. The night temps were cool enough that he could leave Tricks in the Tahoe with the windows down a bit and let her snooze while he paid a fast visit. He walked her around first, then she happily bounded into the Tahoe and settled down. He didn’t have her seat harness with him so he drove carefully, even though traffic was almost nonexistent.

He hadn’t been to the hospital before, but he programmed the GPS and followed the directions. Half an hour later, he pulled into the hospital parking lot and found an empty slot under a light. There was a surprising number of cars there, given that the hospital wasn’t particularly large even by small-town standards, so Jesse was likely right on target about people staying with their relatives.

He lowered the windows down an inch or so, letting the cool night air seep in. He said, “I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes. You don’t let anyone in, okay?’

Tricks woofed softly. It wasn’t until he was inside the hospital, taking the interior stairs two at a time, that he realized he’d been talking to her as if she were human and understood every word he’d said. He gave a mental shrug. He’d bet on Tricks understanding more than some humans he’d met.

He exited on the third floor, checked which way the room numbers were running, and strode to room 308. The nurses’ desk was down the hall, a small center of activity, but he didn’t have to go that far down. There was no point in knocking, not if Bo’d been given happy juice, so he simply pushed the lever-style handle and went in.

The room wasn’t completely dark, for the convenience of the nurse who would be coming in during the night to check on her. The head of the bed was raised a little, and Bo was turned slightly on her left side, her legs curled and her left hand tucked under her cheek. A big, thick bandage covered her neck and part of her right shoulder, but from what he could see in the dim light, her color looked good. An IV needle was in the back of her right hand. He checked the bags hanging from the rolling stand: an antibiotic and standard saline solution for hydration. Anything she was getting for pain was in the form of an injection or a pill.

“Hey.”

The word startled him. Her voice was low and sleepy, a little slurred. Swiftly he turned to see her half-smiling at him, her eyelids barely cracked enough for her to see him.

“Hey,” he said softly, rubbing the back of one finger against her cheek. “I hear you’re getting sprung from this place in a few hours.”

“So they say, as long as I don’t have a fever. I’m hoping all these antibiotics they’re pouring into me do the job.”

“How do you feel?”

“Sore. Let me amend that: very sore. I don’t know what they did to patch me up but I think I remember the nurse saying something about staples.”

“Those are a bitch,” he said feelingly. He remembered staples too damn well.

The more she talked, the more he could detect a slight difficulty in her speech. He suspected her throat was swollen, probably up into her jaw. Yeah, she was going to be unhappy for several days.

He’d come so damn close to losing her. The realization, held at bay while he did what had to be done, slammed him hard, hit him where he lived. His eyes suddenly burned and blurred. “Shit,” he muttered, going down on his knees beside the bed.

“Morgan?” She was struggling to sit upright, reaching out toward him.

He caught her left hand and cradled it against his cheek. “You better fu-you better be okay,” he growled, amending what he’d been about to say and leaving out the obscenity, because it seemed out of place with what he was feeling. “You hear me?”

“Back at you.” She turned her hand so she was stroking his cheek. “I was terrified you hadn’t paid any attention to Tricks barking, that he was going to kill you in front of me. Kill both of us, actually,” she sighed. “I figured I was dead regardless of what happened. All I could hope was that he wasn’t a very good shot, and that you’d heard Tricks… Where is she?”

“In the Tahoe, waiting for me. Jesse kept her with him at the station. I stopped by to find out where you were and picked her up.”

“Don’t keep her waiting long,” she instructed. “Anyway, I thought I saw movement out of the corner of my eye… the way he had my head jerked back I couldn’t be sure. I couldn’t think of anything to do except drop to the ground and keep his attention on me.”

She’d expected to die. She hadn’t been trying to save herself, she’d been trying to save him. His eyes burned again and his throat clogged. “I love you so damn much,” he said tightly, closing his eyes as he gripped her fingers. “I thought my heart was going to stop when I saw he had you.”

“I love you too.” The words were simple, offered as a gift from a woman who had spent most of her life barricading herself from emotion, refusing to let anyone matter too much to her. When he thought how difficult it had been for her to tear down her walls, he felt doubly blessed, doubly honored. He had to wonder, if Tricks hadn’t come first, if the dog hadn’t made a huge chink in Bo’s walls, if she’d ever have let him in. He figured he owed the dog, and the town, more than he could ever repay.

“One good thing came from it.” The words were soft and sleepy, and her eyes drifted shut.

“What?”

She barely managed to lift her eyelids again. “We don’t have to wait to get married.” She sighed and went to sleep, with him still holding her hand.

No, they didn’t, he realized. They damn well didn’t.

Their wedding day was ten days later. They waited that long only because of Bo’s injury. She didn’t want to have a huge bandage on her neck in her wedding photos, however informal those photos were. They decided
not to go to the expense of hiring a professional photographer, but as it turned out Brandwyn Wyman not only swung a mean chair, she dabbled in photography and volunteered to take pictures at her cost, just for the practice. So there would be photos, and Bo didn’t want her bandage to be the focus of every one of them. By the time ten days rolled around, a bandage was still in place but it could be covered by a ribbon of lace tied around her throat and dangled down her back. The effect was Victorian, especially combined with the simple ivory gown she wore, and the way Daina had arranged her hair in a kind of modified Gibson Girl, with tendrils framing her face and neck. Sparkly earrings completed her wedding outfit. Her flowers were three ivory-white roses tied with some of the same lace ribbon that was around her throat.

She was still cautious about the way she turned her head, but overall she’d healed well. The staples had come out the day before, at her insistence, a few days sooner than the surgeon had wanted, but he wasn’t the one getting married. She was, and she wanted the staples out. When he’d removed them, he’d admitted that the area looked good. He’d simply wanted to be cautious.

As expected, all their friends in town had really gotten into the whole wedding deal. Miss Doris had insisted on baking a cake, gratis, and Bo had had to argue with her, refusing to say what kind she wanted until Miss Doris grudgingly agreed to accept payment-a discounted payment, but still payment.

Morgan seemed cool as ever about the never-ending stream of details on which people wanted decisions, yesterday if possible. Between the two of them, they swatted away their friends’ inclination to turn this into a huge production. There was no wedding party, no groomsmen or bridesmaids-just him, her, and likely Tricks, because they were prepared for her to refuse to stay quietly seated beside Daina.

Bo wasn’t as sanguine as he was. Getting married was a big deal, so big that sometimes she thought she might have a panic attack at the idea of the huge step she was taking. Then she’d look at Morgan, so big and lethal and intelligent, and hell no, she wasn’t letting him get away, panic or no panic. He was hers. She’d do this.

By the time she’d been released from the hospital, her house was no longer a crime scene, probably because Jesse and Morgan between them had been ruthless in moving things along. It hadn’t been a normal crime scene anyway, not under the circumstances. The FBI had gotten involved and kept everything very quiet. The official word was that Mr. Kingsley had died in an auto accident. If Congresswoman Kingsley wanted to dispute that and bring the true circumstances out in the open, that was up to her. She hadn’t. His funeral service had been remarkably quiet.

So far Axel’s computer forensic team hadn’t unearthed anything that would incriminate the congresswoman; perhaps she knew he wouldn’t, perhaps there was a degree of separation that kept her in the clear. At any rate, she had been going about her life, handling her husband’s death and funeral, accepting condolences. She had resigned from the HASC, so at least she was no longer in any position to know and pass along crucial military details. That was one small victory-too small, but Axel hadn’t given up.

Sometimes the good guys won. Sometimes they didn’t.

Bo put that terrifying day behind her. In an odd way, she was less upset about it than she had been the day Kyle Gooding had tried to kill Tricks. The most dire threat had been to herself; she’d had hopes that Morgan would be able to handle himself, that Tricks would be okay. She could handle that. She’d had a couple of dreams about it, but the dreams hadn’t risen to nightmare status, and that had been in the first couple of days when she hadn’t slept well because of her neck.

Still… if it hadn’t been for that day, she’d have liked to get married at her home, in her yard. Though everything had been cleared by the time Morgan brought her home from the hospital, even the bloodstains washed from the grass and concrete, the patio pressure-washed to remove the splatted brain tissue-something she refused to let herself think about, though she immediately began planning to have that section of grass replaced with new sod, have new gravel brought in for the driveway, the patio posts restained-she didn’t want her wedding memories to mix with those memories. It was best to keep the two separate. So they were getting married in the town park, in a little gazebo that had already seen several weddings.

“Brace yourself,” Morgan said the day before the wedding as they were on their way home from the surgeon’s office. His mother and stepfather had arrived the day before, and his mother-Theresa-had insisted they stay in the small motel so they didn’t get in the way, thereby earning Bo’s eternal gratitude and friendship. They were going to attend when Morgan and Bo had a quick walk-through of the ceremony that night. Other than eating out with them and having getting-to-know-you conversations, for now she and Morgan were going about their regular routine-almost. Though she’d gone back to work a week after being wounded because paperwork waited for no man-or woman-she didn’t intend to work the day before her wedding, and everyone seemed to be totally on board with that.

“Why?”

“Axel’s coming to the wedding.”

“What?” Her head snapped around so fast the healing tissues and tendons in her neck howled a protest, and she slapped her hand over the bandage. “Ow! Damn it! What do you mean, he’s coming to the wedding?”

“He’s coming to the wedding, that’s what I mean.” He gave her a concerned glance. “Don’t jerk your head around like that.”

“No joke. Why’s Axel coming? Who invited him?”

“No one invited him. This is kind of an open deal, remember? Whoever wants to show up will? My team happens to be between missions right now so they’re all coming, and he decided to come along with them.”

“Crap. I’d rather have my parents than him.” She scowled out the windshield. “Just keep him away from me, all right? Have your guys sit on him or something.”

“He’ll be on his best behavior. With Axel, though, that isn’t anything to brag about.”

“I know. We’ll make sure he’s seated beside Loretta, and we’ll give her a heads-up. If he starts anything, she’ll cold-cock him. Problem solved,” she said with satisfaction.

Morgan laughed. “I’m impressed. That’s top-notch strategy. Now I’m actually hoping he gets out of line.”

“Yeah, me too.” She fantasized for a few minutes about how satisfying it would be to see Loretta lay Axel out with one punch. If she did, Bo would definitely start lobbying the town council to give Loretta a raise.

The big day itself went smoothly, mainly because they weren’t making a lot of fuss about the details. A couple of churches and the community center volunteered folding chairs for the wedding guests to sit on and arranged them all in neat rows. They didn’t have fancy covers over them, or bows tied to the backs, but no one cared.

Long tables were set up along one side for the wedding cake and punch, as well as the cases of Naked Pig fetched by a couple of Morgan’s guys, whom he’d had make an emergency run to Alabama to the Back Forty Beer Company. Some inroad into the supply had been made before it arrived in West Virginia, but he’d ordered extra with that in mind. There were also sparkling water, tea, and soft drinks for those not inclined to try out the Naked Pig.

Daina and Kenny Michaels and a few others, including Emily, Brandwyn, and Kalie, had strung white lights in the gazebo and on the surrounding bushes and small trees. Even though the wedding was during the day, the white lights looked great.

The rest of Morgan’s guys, and Axel, showed up well before the ceremony. Bo and Morgan were already in town-she was getting ready in the bathroom at the police station, so he had custody of Tricks until it was time for him to change into his suit. It was a new suit because, in his opinion, none of his old ones did justice to the occasion. Bo had bought a new dress, therefore he bought a new suit. Worked for him.

His guys didn’t pay much attention to Tricks at first, other than commenting that she was a pretty dog, which was like saying Einstein was fairly smart. They were all standing around outside shooting the bull while Morgan threw the tennis ball for her. After a while, of course, she deigned to allow someone else to have the honor and deposited her ball at Kodak’s feet.

Morgan kept his mouth shut, let Kodak give it a muscular throw, then filled him in on what he’d done wrong when Tricks retrieved the ball, and on her return gave Kodak a disdainful look before giving the honor to one of the other guys. Morgan instructed him on how she liked the throw, and on cue she caught it on the first bounce and posed for him until he told her it was a great catch.

From then on, the guys were hooked. Tricks had all the attention she could possibly want-maybe, because she had a large capacity for handling attention. She was petted, she was played with, she amazed them with her understanding of people language, she demonstrated that she knew exactly what the numbers on the clock meant when it was time for her lunch. Even Axel was impressed. “Maybe we could use her,” he muttered.

“Stay your ass away from her,” Morgan said. He was only glad Bo wasn’t around to hear that comment or she’d have cold-cocked Axel herself, then sent the Mean-As-Shit Hobsons to burn down his house.

For her part, Tricks disliked Axel on sight, which only proved her excellent character judgment. She turned her head away from him every time he tried to pet her. Probably the best pet for Axel was a snake.

Finally it was time for the ceremony. Morgan and Bo walked together to the gazebo, her hand resting in the crook of his arm. She was as graceful as a willow, her gown flowing around her thin, supple body, her skin and eyes glowing, her thick mane of hair currently remaining in Daina’s style creation.

Morgan’s mother and stepfather sat in the front row of folding chairs. Daina was also in the front row, with Kenny on one side of her and Mayor Buddy and his wife on the other. Tricks was sitting in front of Daina, her leash firmly held, an expression of doggie bliss on her face because of all the attention she’d had that morning. Jesse and Kalie sat on the other side of the aisle, also front row. Morgan’s buddies took up the second row. As Bo went past, she saw Loretta give her a thumbs-up. Axel was seated beside her, and he looked positively cowed. It was a great day.

When the minister said, “Isabeau Rebecca Maran, do you take this man-” he was interrupted by a sharp bark from Tricks, who had impeccable timing. Morgan and Bo both burst out laughing, as did everyone else in the audience. Tricks took advantage and pulled loose from Daina, dashed over to Bo, and wormed her way between Bo and Morgan where she stood beaming for the rest of the ceremony. She was happily tucked between her two people, right where she belonged.

Of course Tricks was in all the photographs, except for the artsy close-ups of their wedding rings, Bo’s bouquet, and things like that.

Afterward, when the Naked Pig had been drunk, cake and other goodies had been eaten, Bo and Morgan had danced on the grass before others joined in, Tricks had finally decided to take an exhausted nap, and the cleaning up had begun, Bo noticed that Morgan, Axel, and the other GO-Team members were gathered in the shade of one of the big trees, evidently having a serious discussion.

She herself was talking with Theresa and Daina, and she wasn’t going to go over. One, this was probably GO-Team business. Two, she didn’t want to be that close to Axel. But, hell-as of a couple of hours ago Morgan was her husband, and if he was leaving tonight, she wanted to know. She had taken him for better or worse, so she was prepared for his job to take him away for long periods of time. She hoped it wasn’t tonight, and she intended to find out.

She strode over, as authoritatively as one could stride in a gown, and insinuated herself into the group. “Has something come up? Do you have to leave?” she asked, not whining about it and ready to help him pack if he wanted her company.

Morgan looked down at her and smiled as he slid his arm around her. “No, nothing in particular. I was just resigning from the GO-Teams.”

Her mouth fell open in shock. “What?”

“This is your fault,” Axel said in his typical surly, sour tone.

Bo looked around. “Loretta!” she called, having spotted her friend still lingering as she and her husband, Charlie, talked to some friends. Loretta looked up, excused herself, and headed toward them with an air of purpose.

Axel actually blanched and began edging away.

Morgan said sharply, “Bo hasn’t asked me to quit, hasn’t said a word about it. This is my decision. I’m not too old yet, but I only have a few good years left while I can stay in top shape, so I’m making the move now. I want to be here, I want to start a family-”

“A family?” Bo squeaked, so obviously shocked that all the guys chuckled. Well, all of them except Axel.

“With your permission.” Morgan grinned and tightened his arm around her. “So I’m resigning.”

“Damn it,” Axel said in frustration. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you come here.”

“You sent him here, asshole,” Bo growled, and just like that they were almost in each other’s faces, with Morgan holding her back because she wasn’t in any shape for another brawl. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Loretta pick up speed, and he said, “Stand down, Mac, or be mowed down.”

Axel saw the wisdom in that and immediately backed away. He even tucked his hands behind his back. Loretta slackened her pace, but her gaze was locked on him like a guided missile.

“You’re one of my best leaders. Hell, you’re the best.” Axel looked as if he’d throw a temper tantrum if it weren’t for the pressing need to behave.

“Give it up,” Kodak advised, grinning. He loved scenes like this. “Promote one of us, and deal with it. And hire Morgan as a consultant so we don’t lose him completely.”

At that Axel looked thoughtful. Loretta reached them then and looked down at Axel from the almost six-and-a-half feet height her high heels gave her. “Is the runt causing problems?” she asked. It was amazing how a woman in a green dress with little white flowers on it, wearing makeup and jewelry and high heels, could look so intimidating, but Loretta managed. She had it down to an art form. It also helped that Morgan had recounted the scene between her and Warren Gooding, so all of them knew her reputation and that she generally took no prisoners.

Bo was the only one who laughed outright. The men all hid their grins. Axel looked both outraged and terrified. He wasn’t a runt, maybe medium height or a little better, but Loretta definitely made him look runtish.

“He’s trying,” Bo said, not about to let him off the hook.

Loretta simply waited, her gaze locked on Axel. He fidgeted. He turned red. He ran a finger around his collar. Bo could tell he wanted to go into one of his classic Axel scenes, but the bottom line was he was afraid of what Loretta might do. She was an unknown quantity to him, and he was on her territory. If she knocked him into tomorrow, everyone, even his own men, would swear he’d tripped over a tree root.

Finally he focused on Morgan. “Would you stay on as a consultant?”

“We can talk about it,” Morgan said, though Bo knew that would be the perfect solution. He wasn’t about to give Axel power going into the negotiations though.

“All right.” Axel looked relieved. “Come see me Monday. Uh-unless you’re going on a honeymoon, or something like that.” He shot a glance at Bo that said he still couldn’t believe Morgan had actually married her.

“No honeymoon yet,” Bo said. “We’re waiting for when it will inconvenience you the most.” Beside her, Tricks stopped staring balefully at the man she disliked to give a woof of agreement.

Perfect.

Morgan went through security at the county courthouse and slipped into the courtroom where Kyle Gooding was being arraigned. The process had taken long enough to get to this point, but Kyle had remained in jail the whole time, so that didn’t matter.

What he assumed was most of the Gooding family was in the courtroom. The district attorney was there, the Gooding lawyer, and a couple of reporter types, some just out of curiosity. Morgan took a seat away from the others, choosing to be as isolated as possible. He wanted Kyle to see him.

The county deputies brought Kyle in. He’d had his hair cut and he wore a suit for all the world as if he was expecting to walk out of the courtroom free instead of going back to jail. There was a hum of anticipation from his family group. He looked at them and gave them a small cocky grin. In that moment Morgan knew for sure that Kyle intended to back out of their agreement.

He sat motionless, his gaze locked on Kyle. After a minute Kyle felt himself being watched, even as insensitive as he was to everything other than himself. He turned and looked over his family group, then turned the other way to survey the rest of the courtroom audience.

He saw Morgan, and his eyes widened. He swallowed nervously. Morgan just stared, never blinking, every ounce of malice he felt burning in his eyes. This son of a bitch had tried to destroy the woman he loved, and no way was he letting him get away with it. He might not do anything about it today, but the reckoning would come, and soon. The time and circumstance would be of his choosing-and he’d get away with it.

Under the weight of his gaze, Kyle turned pale and jerkily faced forward again.

When the charges were read and the judge asked how he pled, in a tight, shaking voice Kyle Gooding said, “Guilty.”

His family erupted in a muted uproar because that wasn’t what they’d expected. His lawyer looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. The judge began banging his gavel, shouting for silence. Morgan sat motionless, merely watching as the hubbub died down and the proceedings came to a close. As Kyle was led from the courtroom in handcuffs, he looked back over his shoulder at Morgan.

Morgan didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t break eye contact.

When the door closed behind Kyle, he got up and quietly walked back to his pickup, which he’d retrieved from his condo the weekend after he and Bo were married, eight days ago and counting. They had also retrieved the Shark from the marina, and it was now at Bo’s house.

As he exited the courthouse, he glanced up at the blue sky and thought it looked like a great day to get in some fishing.