Who: Riley Finn What: last boating lessons When: Week Five, Friday morning Where: Marina Sailing, Marina Del Rey, CA Status: complete
"Well now, Mr. Ferguson, you've done quite well. Congratulations on graduating our captaincy course at Marina Sailing." The salesman shook the hand of the young fellow in front of him. "I must admit, this isn't a time of year we get many customers!"
Riley smiled. "No, I imagine not. But, I've just happened into a substantial--" change of life circumstances "--windfall," he continued without a pause. "This is an investment I've always wanted to make."
"Well, nothing to fear. You and your friends will be quite happy aboard the... well, the previous owner never bought into the naming of boats, but if you'd like to register a name we can certainly take care of that for you, Captain Ferguson."
Captain Ferguson. Riley almost laughed. Leroy Ferguson was one of three identities that he'd established while working in the Agency, and was the name on the account that Riley's pay had been funneled into. He'd already signed the financing agreement earlier in the week, payments were drafted out of the account in two payments, and the keys were in Riley's hand. "We'll register a name later."
"That's quite all right, it's an important decision. Right this way, we'll get your certification filed, and you'll also be entitled to three hundred and sixty-five days of moorage here before there is a charge."
"That's fine." Riley followed the salesman into his office, and signed each and every form that was put in front of him. "I can come back after dark, right? Some of my friends work until late."
"Oh, yes, that's fine," the salesman said. "You'll have full slip access twenty-four hours, you and anyone you give your passcode to."
"Last thing is, I'm going to be replacing some of the glasswork on the boat, will that construction be a problem?" Riley asked. "I'll be bringing the panes in myself."
“We have a construction dock, and we’ll take the boat over there where it can be worked on. Your passcode will work inside that gate, too.”
“Excellent news.” Riley took his copy of the piloting certification, a folder full of other papers and specifications, and the handshakes from the salesman and his teaching crew. On his way back to the hotel, the taxi stopped long enough for Riley to buy two bottles, one of sparkling cider and one of actual champagne, and he carried both back to his room.
Now all he had to do was go pick up Spike after sundown and take him out to the marina.