Love for Sail

by Charles Dougherty

  She could tell from the change in Diamantista’s motion and the sudden warmth of the night air that they were into the western edge of the Gulf Stream. The wind was holding steady out of the southwest, and they should be well across the Stream before the strong northerlies came in with the cold front.

  She was glad that she'd decided to skip Norfolk; life always looked better with an open horizon off the bow. She studied the behavior of the boat for a few minutes. The sails continued to draw and the autopilot wasn't overcompensating for the motion of the waves. Satisfied, she made a mental note of the heading and speed and stood up to make a 360-degree visual sweep of the horizon. There was nothing in sight but the open sea.

  She stepped to the companionway and went below, turning on the red night light over the chart table. She entered the course, speed, time and GPS position in the log book as well as plotting their position on the chart that was spread out on the table. Extending the course line using parallel rules, she smiled when she saw that they were heading straight for 25 degrees North, 65 degrees West.

  She reached into the pocket of her shorts, feeling for the single key that would unlock the top drawer under the chart table. Pulling it out, she palmed it and stepped into the main cabin, noticing that Kirsten had been sharp enough to choose the best sea berth on the boat. She smiled again as she saw how young the girl's face appeared in the dim light, her habitual frown gone for the moment.

  She crept forward, poking her head into the forward cabin to see Jimmy sprawled awkwardly across the queen-sized berth. She shook her head, wondering again why an ex-Navy man didn't have better sea sense. He'd picked the spot on the boat where the motion was at its worst.

  She went back to the chart table and unlocked the top drawer, taking out the satellite phone. It hadn't occurred to her to lock the drawer until she'd talked to Paul the other night. His suspicious nature was rubbing off on her. At his suggestion, she had moved the passports and her wallet into the drawer with her cell phone and the satellite phone in case Kirsten or Jimmy got nosy. She slipped the sat phone in her pocket and locked the drawer, pocketing the key again as she climbed the companionway ladder. Back in the cockpit, she made another check of the horizon before she settled into the cushion behind the helm. She turned the phone on and waited several seconds until it established a link with the satellite. She saw that she had a text message from Paul, but decided to call him before she read it. She missed talking with him.

  ****

  Paul was in his kitchen finishing the dishes after his solo dinner of seafood marinara à la Russo when his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He dried his hands on the dish towel and slipped the phone out, smiling when he saw the caller i.d. Thumbing the green button, he raised the phone to his ear.

  "Good evening, Diamantista. Where are you?"

  "Hi! I'm so glad you answered. I was afraid I'd get your voicemail," Connie said.

  "Something wrong?" Paul was worried by the relief in Connie's tone.

  "No, everything's fine. It's a beautiful night out here. We're well into the Stream; it's warm for a change, and there are a bazillion stars. It's easy to see why they call it the Milky Way when you see it like this."

  "Great. You're making me jealous. I'm glad everything's okay. How's the crew? Can you talk?"

  "Yes. Kirsten's off watch and sleeping like a baby. Jimmy's been seasick ever since we hit the mouth of the Bay. He's out of it, so Kirsten and I are just trading off when we get tired. She's a good kid; I really like her."

  "Did you get my text?"

  "Yes, but I haven't read it yet. I wanted to hear your voice. Want to tell me what's in it?"

  "Sure. We pretty much had Kirsten calibrated, but she's been in a little more trouble than we thought at first. She was caught doing lines of coke in the library and got kicked out of school. Her dad gave her an ultimatum; either go through a detox program, or hit the road. She hit the road."

  Connie swallowed hard. "That's pretty rough. She still seems like a good kid; I'm sorry for her now, hearing that."

  "Yeah, well, it doesn't mean she's a bad kid, but she's got a coke habit. That's bad; I gotta figure her old man knew what he was doing. Let's just hope she sees the light and takes him up on his offer before it's too late for her."

  "Think I should try to talk to her about that?"

  "I wouldn't, unless she brings it up. Coke heads are pretty squirrelly. If you caught her in a paranoid moment, she might really go off on you. On the other hand, if she's in a downer, you'd have a basket case on your hands. Any sign she's using now?"

  "No. I told them no drugs aboard without a prescription, but I couldn't very well search their stuff. She seems okay, but I'll keep an eye on her. What do you think I should do if I catch them using drugs?"

  "Don't say anything to them; just quietly head for the nearest port and call me. I'll arrange for a reception committee. Don't ignore it, though. You know it could get Diamantista impounded."

  "Yes. Damn, I was just feeling like everything was going to be okay."

  "Well, don't borrow trouble. Let's hope she's clean."

  "Yes, that would be best. How's the case?"

  "It's not much different. I'm still looking at being in the Virgins in three weeks, but Connie?"

  "Yes?"

  "I hate to give you more to worry about, but ..."

  "But what?"

  "There's no record of a James Henry Dorlan serving in the Navy, or any other armed service."

  "Damn it! I'm not surprised. Any more on him?"

  "No. My gut says that's a false identity. I don't think we're gonna find anything."

  "Kirsten said she met him at the school. He was handyman or janitor, or something, if that helps."

  "It might. I'll get on it first thing in the morning, but I wouldn't bet on learning anything. Look, be careful, but don't get all nervous about this. They're probably just two screwed up kids on a lark, running away to sea. I wouldn't trust them too far, but there's no reason to think they're looking for anything more than a ride to the islands."

  "I know, but it's kind of like picking up hitchhikers, isn't it?"

  * * *

  Chapter 8

  It was a clear night, and the full moon bathed the seascape in silvery light. Conditions were moderating as they worked their way through the eastern edge of the Gulf Stream, and Kirsten was in a great mood. She had been on watch for about an hour.

  With Jimmy out of the rotation, she and Connie had agreed to just wake the other person when the one on watch started to fade. Kirsten had slept soundly for several hours, waking with a start and worrying that she had overslept. That had been at two o'clock according to her watch. She had slept for six hours, so she got dressed and relieved Connie, who was now asleep in her aft cabin. That had been about an hour ago.

  Before Connie had gone to sleep, she had made Kirsten a cup of coffee and passed it to her through the companionway. Once she had been sure that Connie was asleep, she had helped herself to another hit of coke, so she was feeling fine. The beauty of the ghostly sea around her was stunning; she thought she would never tire of sailing like this. She worried about what would happen when Jimmy got over his seasickness, but it was only a fleeting thought, and then her imagination took hold.

  She was sure she could figure out how to ditch Jimmy; she was pondering how to get Connie to take her on as full-time crew. Her earlier notion of getting rid of Jimmy and becoming Connie's first mate and cook had taken root. She was excited at the prospect. His only value to her was that he could keep her supplied with coke, but she had realized that she didn't need him for that anymore.

  She could make the buy in St. Martin without Jimmy. She would have to find where he'd hidden the money, but how hard could that be? It was somewhere on the boat. Once she made the buy, she and Connie could disappear and run charters.

  She could just hang onto the coke; she wouldn't need to sell it. Connie's charter business would support them. Fifteen kilos of the good stuff would last
her a long time, and it was like money in the bank if she needed to part ways with Connie for some reason. The only problem was getting rid of Jimmy.

  She didn't know much about the people he worked for. They smuggled the drugs into Florida; she'd picked that up from listening to Jimmy's side of several phone calls. The guy he sold for was in Baltimore. She had gathered from Jimmy's comments that they had a network of small dealers like Jimmy all up and down the coast.

  Jimmy couldn't get in touch with them now; Diamantista was out of cell phone range. She had a couple of weeks to figure out how to help him fall overboard. She would make sure she had his cell phone so that she could call his contacts and set up the buy in St. Martin. Once she had the coke, she'd disappear. If he fell off the boat, it would solve all her problems and it wouldn't leave any tracks.

  She knew that Connie wouldn't go for that. Losing a crewman would be a reflection on Connie's seamanship, if nothing else. She would come up with something, though; she had time, and Jimmy didn't see her as a threat. All she had to do was wait until he was on watch and Connie was asleep.

  She could sneak up behind him and knock him out with something. Then it would just be a matter of rolling him over the lifelines, and she'd be free. She could go back below and go to sleep once he was gone, leaving the autopilot to steer. She would let Connie come up on deck and discover that he was missing. Her plan made, she was eager for him to get over this seasickness so she could execute it.

  ****

  Connie sipped her coffee and admired the golden light playing across the surface of the indigo water. Nothing was more beautiful than the open sea on a nice day during the first hour after sunrise. Like Kirsten, she had slept until she woke up; she felt well-rested and alert. She and Kirsten seemed to have fallen into an ideal rhythm of watch-keeping without any particular effort. As long as the weather stayed benign, they didn't need Jimmy in the rotation, which was just as well, since he had not moved from the forward berth for over 24 hours.

  As if summoned by her thoughts, he appeared. He stood on the companionway ladder, gazing at her. His sudden, quiet arrival startled her when she looked over and saw him staring at her. He was freshly shaved, his long hair combed neatly and pulled back into a short ponytail. She smiled at the memory of what Dani had once said about men with ponytails. "You know what you always find under a horse's tail, don't you?" She suppressed the smile as she saw that he was leering at her.

  "Morning, gorgeous," he said as he climbed up into the cockpit. "Lookin' at you first thing makes a man's whole day."

  "You seem to have recovered. Did you find yourself something for breakfast?"

  "Nah, not yet. I got other things on my mind right now. I'll get Kirsten to fix me somethin' in a while. Right now, I want to spend some of what they call 'quality time' with the mistress of the ship."

  "Okay, since you want to talk, I guess this is as good a time as any."

  "Oh, I didn't have talkin' in mind."

  "Yeah, well maybe you need a cold shower, because talk is all you're going to get from me, and you're probably not going to like it much."

  "Aw, now, don't be that-a-way, baby. You don't have to put on no airs with me. See, I got no problem at all with you bein' Mexican and all. Fact, I had me some purty good friends was Mexican, when I was in the Navy. Lotsa them wetbacks enlisted to get citizenship, you know. Some of the fellas didn't like 'em very much, but I figured they was sailors, just like me, see?"

  "Uh-huh. There're just two problems with your bullshit. You know what they are?"

  "I reckon I'm gonna find out here purty quick, but first, can I ask you somethin'?"

  "What?"

  "You ever done it with a white man?"

  She stared him down. When he finally swallowed hard and looked away, she said, "Right. First, I’m not Mexican. I was born in the U.S. and so were my parents and grandparents, so just cut the condescending shit out, okay?"

  He grinned at her. "You're a fine lookin' woman, and mad sure puts a nice rosy color in them purty cheeks of yours. Bet you was really somethin' when you were younger ...” His voice trailed off as he caught the look in her eyes. "Sorry. You just do somethin' to me. What was the other thing you wanted to tell me?"

  "You were never in the Navy."

  "No. That's not so. I was ..."

  "Look," Connie interrupted. "I've had a friend who's a cop check you out, so don't bother with any more of your bullshit. James Henry Dorlan was never in the service -- Navy, or any other. In fact, my friend's pretty sure that's not even your real name."

  "Um, Connie, I can ..."

  "Shut up and listen for a minute. I've done some things I'm not proud of; I've even used a forged passport a few times, so I'm not judging you for that." She paused, watching him.

  "I hear a 'but ... ' coming," he said.

  She nodded. "But I've listened to all the crap from you that I'm going to listen to. I don't really give a damn who you are or what you've done up until now, but this is my boat. There's one person in charge, and that's me. If you can deal with that and pull your own weight, I'm happy enough to have you sail to the islands with me. If you keep up your bullshit, you and I are going to have trouble. Don't forget for a minute that I've got a friend ashore who knows all about you and Kirsten."

  Jimmy looked at her for a moment, a sober expression on his face for once. He nodded. "Reckon maybe I ought to go get me some breakfast," he said, standing up.

  "Jimmy?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Get it yourself. Don't wake Kirsten up. She needs her sleep. We've been covering for you while you were seasick."

  "Yeah, okay."

  "One other thing," she said, as he started to turn away.

  "Any time you feel like testing me, feel free, but don't expect any mercy from me. We clear on that?"

  He nodded and stepped below. Connie could hear him rummaging in the lockers and the refrigerator. A few minutes later, he returned to the cockpit. "If you meant what you said about me sailin' to the islands with you, I reckon it's about time I stood watch, assumin' you trust me, of course."

  Connie held his eye for a few beats. Then she nodded and stood up, stepping from behind the helm. She reached in her pocket and handed him an orange plastic whistle on a lanyard. "If you need me for anything, just blow this. I'm going to get some sleep. Wake Kirsten up when you get too tired; she's up next."

  As she stepped onto the companionway ladder, he said, "Connie?"

  "Yes?"

  "Reckon I owe you an apology."

  "Thanks, Jimmy. Have a good watch."

  "Yes'm, and thank you."

  ****

  Connie made herself a cup of herbal tea and was about to retire to her aft stateroom when she heard Kirsten's soft call.

  "Is that herbal tea?"

  "Yes, would you like some?"

  "If it's not too much trouble."

  "No trouble at all." Connie dropped a teabag in another mug and poured boiling water over it. She took the two mugs into the saloon and Kirsten joined her at the table.

  "I heard you talking with Jimmy."

  "Sorry. Did we wake you?"

  "No, I was up. I woke up when I heard him cleaning himself up in the head. Is everything okay between you two?"

  "Maybe. We'll see, I guess. Why do you ask?"

  "Oh, I can tell he's got the hots for you. Jerk. He thinks he's such a stud."

  "Yes. That's what we were talking about. I was pretty blunt with him. Maybe it sunk in; maybe it didn't."

  "Watch him. You can't trust him, and he can turn violent in a heartbeat."

  "I figured that. It'll be okay; I can handle him. Don't worry about it."

  Kirsten looked doubtful. "I'm sorry he woke up. We were having a good time, just the two of us. At least I was. I hope you were, too."

  "I was. I've missed having another woman around."

  "Yeah. Me, too. Maybe ..."

  "Maybe what?" Connie asked.

  Kirsten shook her head. "It was a dumb thou
ght."

  "What?" Connie encouraged her.

  "I was just thinking how cool it would be if we could ditch him. You know, just the two of us take Diamantista to the islands."

  Connie smiled. "It's a little late for that. We're 200 miles offshore; we're kind of stuck with him, at least until we make landfall somewhere. Then maybe we could talk about it."

  "Really?" Kirsten's tone was filled with wonder. "You'd do that? With me?"

  "You're good people, Kirsten. Just hold that thought. We'll have to see what happens, okay?"

  Connie drained her mug and rinsed it at the galley sink. "Wake me when it's time," she said, as she stepped through the door to her cabin.

  ****

  Kirsten made herself a sandwich and ate it in the galley, right outside Connie's door. She listened until she heard Connie settle into her berth, and then helped herself to a snort of coke to celebrate her progress.

  She was pleased that she had laid the groundwork with Connie already. That went much more smoothly than she had expected. Of course, she really did like Connie, and she did wish that it was just the two of them aboard. Now all she needed was a clear shot at Jimmy.

  She went to the forward head and took a shower, careful to conserve water as her father had taught her. She dried her hair with a towel, glad that she had recently had it cut shorter. As an afterthought, she applied some makeup. Wrapping the towel around her torso, she stepped into the forward cabin and dug a skimpy bikini out of her duffle bag.

  She dropped the towel and slipped on the bathing suit, studying her reflection in the small mirror on the bulkhead. She had in mind distracting Jimmy; she wanted to make the most of the weapons at her disposal.

  She hung the towel up to dry and fetched her hairbrush. She would sit in the cockpit and brush out her hair in the breeze, giving Jimmy a bit of a show. If she didn't get a chance to do him in today, she could at least keep his guard down.

  * * *

  Chapter 9

  Connie awakened with a start to the sound of a piercing scream followed by several thumps and muttered curses. As she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she realized that the ruckus was coming from the cockpit, which was directly over her berth. She rolled out of bed, fastening the waistband of her shorts as her feet hit the deck. As she opened the door, she saw Kirsten staggering forward from the companionway ladder. Her first thought was that the girl was naked, but then she saw the bikini bottoms and the torn top clutched to her chest.