Peggy stood on the finger of the dock like an accusing ghost. Her head was bent down, and her large, womanly brown eyes gazed unblinking up at him. Her lower lip curled out and trembled. "Somebody broke into Mr. Wood's boat last night. They stole all of my dad's tools, and John's sextant -everything they could lift."
"Oh, no! Not you, too! That's the tenth time somebody's had a boat ripped off this summer," Tom said, dismayed. "Is it insured?"
"I don't know if Mr. Wood was or not," Peggy answered. "My dad's tools weren't. How's he gonna work when we go home?" She covered her face with her hands and began to cry.
Tom scrambled off the cabin top and onto the dock. "Hey, Peggy, don't cry," he said, putting his arms around the slender child. "They'll catch whoever did it. Please don't cry, Peggy!"
Peggy's sobs grew louder. Tom looked around like a trapped animal, then led her onto the Sea Nymph. He sat with her in the cockpit, comforting her as well as he could.
Peggy buried her face in his shoulder. She clung mightily to him, her long brown hair falling along his chest. Tom was embarrassed and concerned. The girl wept and gurgled with the sobs that shook her frail torso.
Tom looked around the cockpit, searching for a scrap to wipe the varnish from his hands. He didn't want to mark her pristine white clothes or her flowing brown hair. There was nothing within reach, so he held Peggy tight, patting her back with the inside of his wrist.
The fit of sobbing tapered off. Peggy raised her head and looked into Tom's face. Her lovely face was streaked with tears when she sat up. The young man grabbed a towel and Peggy dried her eyes. She looked at him expectantly, still ready to loose fountains of tears.
"I-I hear about nearly everything in the harbor when I'm working," Tom began. "Maybe I could find out more from the other people who've been robbed." Peggy's trusting look encouraged him. "We might be able to find your dad's tools in just a couple of days. The burglars must still be around here – nobody else on the whole coast has had so many ripoffs."
"Do you think they live here?" Peggy asked. Her eyes brightened. "Maybe at one of the marinas?"
"Could be, but I doubt it. There's been two or three whole boatloads of equipment stolen, so I don't think any of it's stashed here in the yacht harbor." Tom was very aware of Peggy's bare leg against his and her trusting nearness. His cock stiffened when Peggy spoke. Her wide mouth glistened, the sensual lips red from her bout of sobs.
Tom shifted his weight a bit. Even though Peggy had jacked him off the day before, her nearness in the open, sunlit cockpit of his boat rattled him. "Whoever it is, they know something about boats, and about scuba gear. They don't steal anything cheap, and they've made off with propellers and driveshafts from at least three of the boats."
"Could we go look around and see if we can find anything, Tom?" Peggy parted her lips and leaned closer. "I thought I heard something under our boat last night." She looked very serious and very attractive, staring intently into Tom's eyes.
Tom groaned inside. Peggy's slim body and her vigorous manner excited him. His cock was like a telephone pole inside his Bermudas. "Yeah, we can. Let me clean my brush and we'll take my raft around."
Peggy saw the long penile lump when Tom stood. Her gratitude for his promised help glowed warm in her bosom She wanted to grab his prick and kiss it to thank him for comforting her when she'd cried. Thinking of catching the burglars made her cunny moisten as much as the sight of his rod.
In less than two minutes, Tom had set his tackle to rights and pulled the yellow rubber raft off the sloop's foredeck. He dragged the inflatable boat to the end of the slip and helped Peggy in.
Peggy pulled the hem of her short dress demurely down her thighs. Tom faced her as he rowed. The lovely woman child sat with her legs folded to the side, leaning on the raft's rubber bottom with one hand. She showed an exotic length of smooth leg, and her little bosom was in half-profile. For all the hem-tugging she did, Tom still saw the elastic leg band of her white cotton panties. The curve of her bottom swelled under the tightness of the skirt, and her long thighs melted smoothly into the sensuous line.
Peggy kept glancing down at the vertical length of Tom's erect shaft as he rowed. There was no way his opened legs could have hidden the hard organ-life rafts were't designed for physical modesty, she realized.
Peggy kept her legs folded, anyway. She wanted to help her parents without being distracted by her horniness. I can't even think about his body now. We have to find out who stole all Dad's tools and get Mr. Wood's equipment back. Daddy said that sextant and the chronometer are worth over a thousand dollars! This little raft sure feels sexy though -it moves just like a waterbed over the little waves, she thought.
Tom said nothing while he rowed. The gaps between Peggy's dress buttons showed the small firm swell of her breast. She wore no bra, and the dark circles of her nipples showed as round shadows through the linen. Tom pulled his shirt tail to cover the rigid bulge of his meat. He could see Mr. Gibson and two plainclothes cops checking the topside of the ketch as he approached. I bet he's in a mood to deball any dude with a hard-on within half a mile of his daughter. Don't blame him, either. Peggy's gonna have somebody stickin' his cock to her long before she's legal Tom mused. He felt half-proud of his own restraint.
"I don't see it," Peggy said as the rubber boat came alongside the yacht. "I think that was what I heard last night."
Tom leaned across the oars. "I think you're right, Peggy," he said. "I can see the end of the shaft. The screw is gone, completely. Look how the last part of the shaft shines. They must have stolen it last night, or it would be dull."
"Daddy! Daddy, come over here," Peggy called. "The propeller's gone!"
Ed Gibson looked up from the hatch where the fingerprint man worked. "What? Those bastards even took the prop?" The second policeman joined him at the taffrail. They stood at the very stern of the boat, looking down into the yellow raft.
"I'm afraid so, sir," Tom said. "Nothing left but the shaft and your rudder." He peered downward. "It looks like they got everything but the packing."
"Those common, moldy sons-" Ed Gibson broke off. "Mr. Sanders, would you keep an eye on Peggy for a while? My wife and I have to go downtown with these officers."
"Of course, sir. I'll take care of her while you're gone," Tom answered. The power of Ed's cold tone chilled him. I pity those thieves if he finds them. It's a goddamn good thing he was too pissed off to see this hard-on. I'd like to keep living for a long time, and getting caught with HIS daughter is the surest way to stop!
"Let's keep looking around, Tom," Peggy said when her parents had left. "We might find something around here that the cops won't. It wouldn't hurt to try, would it?"
"No, I don't suppose it would," Tom answered. He watched Peggy settle into a more comfortable position in the boat. "Where do you think we should start?"
Peggy sat Indian-fashion, her knees spread. The short skirt hiked up and showed her panties. The juicy pout of her pussy seemed to blaze under the white cotton of her underwear. "How about just going up and down between the slips? If we see anybody loading a bunch of stuff, we'll watch until we find out if they stole it."
"Well, if you can tell what's stolen, we might as well do that as sit around," Tom said. "Probably do as much good as a sparrowfart in a hurricane."
The tide approached full as Tom and Peggy went up and down between the boats. The docks the yachts were tied to rose on the water, but the main walkway was on solid pilings. There was only an eighteen-inch space under it when Tom saw something floating beneath the planks.
"Duck down, Peggy," he said. "We're going after that yellow thing."
"Huh? Where?" the brunette turned around and bent over as Tom paddled into the manmade grotto. The clinging fabric of her panties reflected the sunlight just before the darkness covered the raft.