That was one way to describe him. "Could you please just try yanking the rope again?"
"Okay, but I don't think it'll do any good." Tucker braced himself with his legs and pulled until veins bulged in his neck and the fringe on his moccasins shook.
The pulley didn't budge, but Sadie did. She began to move back and forth like a swing. Each time she swung toward the street, the onlookers let out a collective gasp—and it wasn't because they were afraid that she was going to hit them.
"Seriously, Tucker?" I cried.
"I told you so, man," he replied.
I put my head in my hands—that is, until I heard one of the boys yell "Boobies!" followed by cheers from the rest of the under-twelve crowd.
I looked up and saw Tucker's temporary helper, Zac Taylor, pushing the ship's figurehead from my second-floor apartment out the double doors of the salon. It was also the likeness of a woman, but instead of baring her nether region, this one was baring her breasts. And Zac's face was buried right smack between them.
"That's a sight for sore eyes," a deep female voice said.
I turned and saw Amy Spannagel, the assistant librarian, dismounting her bike.
"You mean, an eyesore."
She pushed up her glasses. "I'm talking about Zac's ripped biceps. What are you talking about?"
I gave her a blank stare. For a PhD student, Amy could be kind of dense. But, as much as I hated to admit it, Zac's muscles were kind of distracting. Repairing boats at the Pirate's Hook Marine Services had done his body good. "I'm talking about my Uncle Vinnie's antique porn."
"It's not porn." She tucked a strand of mousy brown hair behind her ear. "It's art."
"Psh," I said with a flick of my hand. "You're from Seattle."
She arched her quasi unibrow. "So?"
"So, it's a lot more open minded than where I'm from. Trust me. In Fredericksburg, Texas, this stuff is straight-up smut. And apparently," I began, glancing back at the scowling faces in the crowd as Zac pulled the bare-breasted wench down the steps of the porch and into the yard, "it's smut in Danger Cove too."
Amy inclined her head to one side and nodded, conceding my porn point.
"Zac," Tucker shouted, "Sadie's putting up a fight. Come and give her a tug from below."
"Sure thing," he replied. "Just let me put Pearl on the truck."
"Who's Pearl?" Amy asked.
"That figurehead," Tucker replied. "She was the apple of Vinnie's eye."
I frowned at Pearl's cupless corset. "She's a real peach, all right."
Zac pushed Pearl up a ramp and into the bed of Tucker's old pickup. Then he walked between Sadie's legs, jumped up, and grabbed onto her thighs.
I was less than thrilled about the suggestive scene, but I was more than happy that he was blocking the va-jayjay view.
"Now that's what you call eye candy," Amy breathed, ogling the backside of Zac's tight jeans.
"Hello!" I gave her a shove.
"What?" She lurched to the side and stumbled out of a penny loafer.
"I'm trying to clean up the image of The Clip and Sip and the Conti family name, and your gawking isn't helping."
Avoiding my gaze, Amy put her shoe on and pulled her socks high, as though suddenly ashamed of her naked knees.
"She's starting to drop," Zac announced as he let go of Sadie's massive thighs. But instead of lowering to the ground, she began to rock left and right.
The little boys began whistling and fist pumping like budding wannabe strip-club patrons.
"Sadie sure is kicking up a fuss," Tucker commented.
"She's kicking, all right," I yelled. "A burlesque version of the cancan."
No sooner had I spoken than a woman in the crowd let out a muffled cry.
Amy turned toward the street. "Looks like Charlotte Vickers just went down."
I threw my hands in the air. "That's it," I shouted. "Cut the rope."
"But Sadie's over a hundred and fifty years old," Tucker protested. "She might not survive the fall."
"Then you can take comfort in the fact that she's had a good, long life." I pointed at the offending item. "Now, you promised me that this would be a quick job, so you've got ten more minutes to get this junk off my property."
Tucker pulled a pocketknife from the front pouch of his Mexican Baja jacket and began cutting. "This is a real drag, man."
After a few seconds, the rope snapped, and Sadie hit the ground. But she didn't have the decency to fall on her face. She landed upright, lascivious grin and all.
Tucker hurried down the ladder and ran to Sadie's side. After he was sure that her parts were intact, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Groovy."
"Yeah, outtasight." I put my hands on my hips. "You dig?"
His face was expressionless. Then a light went on in his burned-out brain. "Grab a leg, Zac. Let's get Sadie on the truck."
Zac ran a hand through his thick, brown hair and flashed me a mischievous smile. "Did you want us to take Hope, Faith, and Charity too?"
My face turned as pink as my Blushing Berry lip gloss. He was referring to a painting-sized photograph from the late 1800s of three prostitutes on their backs with legs splayed, clothed only in socks and shoes.
"We'd be happy to take them off your hands," he added, winking a sexy, steel-blue eye.
"I'm sure you would," I intoned as he turned to help Tucker with Sadie.
"Hey," Amy said, punching my arm.
"Ow." I glared at her as I rubbed my bicep. "What did you do that for?"
"Because you promised me that picture."
"You can have it. But why would you want that hideous thing?"
"It's vintage erotica." She adjusted her beige cardigan. "And not everyone can have blonde hair and a petite figure like you. Some of us girls need a little help with the opposite sex."
I pretended to be absorbed in the loading of Sadie onto the truck. Amy and I had become friends a couple of months ago when I started studying for my online accounting
