by Melissa Good
“He was the captain of a…um…fishing boat,” Bob admitted.
“Not very glamorous, I know, but he was really successful at it,” he added. “Anyway, he was out here on a trip to the islands and he just never came back.”
Kerry leaned back in her chair and tucked one leg up under her. “Wow.” She shook her head. “That’s really sad. They never found the boat or anything?”
90 Melissa Good Bob gazed at her. “They know where it went down. This guy who was a witness contacted my grandmother and sold her a map—”
“Sold her?”
Bob shrugged. “Yeah, I know, probably a sucker deal. But she gave me the map, and I decided I’d come out here and see what I could find.”
Kerry frowned. “You don’t even know if it’s accurate.”
“No, but it’s something,” Bob said. “Problem is, I came out here and found out that the spot he supposedly went down has been licensed by some salvage outfit.”
One of Kerry’s eyebrows hiked slightly. “Really?” she said. “A salvage outfit, huh?”
“Yeah. I tried to talk to them, but they ran me out of there.”
Bob shook his head. “Real bunch of jerks. Big-money types, you know.” He gave her a wry smile. “The kind that like to let you know it.”
“Uh huh.” Kerry wondered if it was the same pair they’d run into. “Were they sort of young, a thin guy and a bossy woman?”
Surprised, Bob nodded. “Yeah! You know them?”
Kerry got up and paced over to the cooler, opened it, and removed a chilled bottle of iced tea. She was aware of Bob’s eyes on her back—could almost feel the heat between her shoulder blades—
and she briefly wished she’d put her overalls on over her sheer bathing suit. “Not exactly,” she answered his question. “We ran into them back at that island. They were asking about a site Dar and I dove that day.” She returned. “I guess it was part of that area you’re interested in.”
“Really?” Bob murmured. “So you’re a real diver, huh? Got all your own gear?”
Kerry nodded. “Sure.” She opened her tea and took a sip.
“Dar’s a master diver.” She glanced fondly up at her lover, who was leaning back with one bare foot propped up against the console.
“We’ve even got a compressor on board for refills.”
“I always wanted to learn to dive,” Bob said. “You got any pointers for me?” he asked. “Hey, how about a lesson tomorrow?”
Eight-bit card, thirty-two bit bus. Kerry sighed inwardly. “Sorry, we’ve got plans,” she said. “But there are lots of places in St. Johns that have certification courses.”
“Yeah. I’d better get my insurance stuff straightened out tomorrow, anyway.” Bob sighed. “You staying anywhere special on the island?”
“Dar made the reservations.” Kerry smiled. “I can’t remember the name of the place.”
“Oh.”
Kerry spotted a fringe of land on the port side of the boat. She got up and peered around the corner of the cabin. A low, beautiful Terrors of the High Seas 91
island stretched out before her, offering a semicircle of pure white beach backed by lush, green foliage. “Wow.”
Bob came up behind her. “Yeah. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he murmured. “Hey, maybe I’ll stick around a few days. Since I can’t do anything else, might as well catch some rays, right?”
Kerry exhaled silently, rolling her eyes outside of his line of vision.
“Besides, I owe you dinner and a drink,” Bob said. “You gotta at least let me do that, for what you did for me.”
Yikes. Kerry watched the marina approach. “Dar, you want me to call in to the dockmaster?”
“Yep,” Dar responded. “Looks like it’s busy.”
Kerry turned. “Excuse me.” She waited for Bob to back off, then walked to the cabin radio. “St. Johns Marina, St. Johns Marina, this is the Dixieland Yankee. Over.”
“That’s a cute name,” Bob offered. “Does it mean something?”
Kerry eyed him wryly. “She’s the Dixie part and I’m the Yankee,” she explained simply.
“Dixieland Yankee, this is St. Johns. G’wan.”
Bob cocked his head, producing a puzzled smile. “Oh. You guys related?”
Kerry sighed and leaned against the cabin door. “St. Johns, we have a reservation for a berth. Please advise.” She gave Bob a kindly smile. “You might want to sit down. Sounds like a busy dock.”
“Okay.” Bob wandered over and took a seat, leaving Kerry to finish her radio work.
“Gotcha, Dixieland Yankee. Tenth row, third berth. You’ve got 54 feet, yeah?”
“That’s a roger,” Kerry replied. “Thanks.” She put down the radio mic and walked to the ladder, climbing up it as fast as dignity allowed and joining Dar at the console. “Row ten, slot three.” She sat down and rested her elbows on her knees. “Dar…”
“How’s your little worshipper doing?” Dar drawled, giving her a wicked smile. “He invited you to dinner yet?”
Kerry sighed. “Dinner, drinks, diving, you name it,” she muttered. “Why do guys always do that?”
Dar eyed her. “’Cause you’re charming and adorable?”
“Pffffttt.” Kerry stuck out her tongue. “But you know something? He had a run-in with those 24 karat sleezoids we met on the island, too.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. He’s looking for the wreck of his grandfather’s fishing boat. Supposedly it went down in that area they blocked off.”
Dar frowned. “Busy spot of ocean.”
“Mm.”
92 Melissa Good They looked at each other. Kerry scratched her jaw. “Um. He really did ask me to dinner, to thank me for saving his life.” She studied Dar’s face. “Would you mind if I went?”
Dar’s expression went still for a moment, only the tiny muscles on the sides of her eyes twitching. A silence fell between them as Dar glanced at the oncoming marina and adjusted their course. She watched the console for a moment, then returned her eyes to Kerry’s face. She spoke very softly. “Yes, I would mind.”
Kerry felt a mixture of surprise and pleasure. Surprise, because she’d expected Dar to profess a disinterest in preventing her from going, and pleasure because of the gut-level honesty of the actual reaction she’d gotten. “Good.” She exhaled. “Because I would, if it were me.”
Dar grinned briefly. “Jealousy’s an interesting sensation,” she commented, before she returned her careful attention to their approach.
“Mm,” Kerry agreed, watching the island grow larger. “Ain’t that the truth.”
KERRY NUDGED OPEN the door to their room and peered inside. “Whoa.” She chuckled as she entered and tossed her overnight bag down on the king size bed. “Definitely more colorful than your average Marriott.”
Dar closed the door. She eyed the peach walls, strongly patterned carpet, and rich fabrics on the windows and bed with a half grin. “I like it,” she decided. “Wouldn’t want it in my bedroom, but it’s nice for a change.” She put her own bag down and reviewed the rest of the room. It had a high, peaked ceiling, with a fan and a dual vent to remove the hot air from the room. The windows were large and featured a gorgeous view of the half circle bay, and the atmosphere was light and airy.
Kerry went to the window and looked out. “Nice.” She turned and leaned on the sill, watching Dar take off her sunglasses and toss them on the table. Much to Kerry’s relief, when they’d docked Bob had scampered off to take care of his business, and she was looking forward to exploring the resort’s interesting offerings.
She’d spotted kayaks, among other things, and seen mention in the lobby of a rum-tasting demonstration.
Dar lifted the bottle of complimentary rum from the sideboard and held it up. “Very nice.” There was also bottled water. “Use this,” she cautioned Kerry. “I’ve had mixed results drinking from the tap.”
“Ah. Thanks,” Kerry said. “Not having phones was a surprise, though.”
“Mm.” Dar examined the discrete data port. “Internet access Terrors of the High Seas 93
but no phones. Incredible.”
Kerry went to the locked, distressed leather briefcase Dar had put down on the chair. “I guess we’ve gotta bite the bullet, huh?”
They’d agreed not to unlock the case, which held their cell phones and pagers, unless a full-blown crisis was at hand.
“Yeap.” Dar tossed her the keys to the briefcase. “Probably better off using ours anyway.” She watched Kerry unlock the catch and open the case, stick her hand inside, and withdraw one of their two phones. “I know there’s phones outside in the lobby, but…”
“Yeah.” Kerry tossed the phone to Dar, then she wandered back over to the windows, discovering a patio outside. “Hey.” She opened the door and went out onto the stone edifice, alternately splashed with sunlight and the shade from nearby banana trees. It was quiet and peaceful, and the view of the water was quite spectacular. “Breakfast out here tomorrow, I think,” Kerry mused, as a breeze off the water puffed her hair back out of her eyes.
With a satisfied grunt, she turned and went back inside their pleasant room, where she found Dar sprawled across the king size canopy bed with the phone to her ear. The sight was so attractive, Kerry decided to join her, and she crawled over to where Dar was lying, flipped over onto her back, and settled there as she watched the fan circle lazily overhead.
“That’s right, Mark. Just run it for me.” Dar inched her hand over and tugged a bit of Kerry’s hair. “I don’t have the registration number.”
Mark’s voice trickled from the cell phone’s speaker. “Right, boss. How’s the vacation going?”
“Aside from nearly being heaved to by pirates, and Kerry saving a drowning man in a storm, it’s been pretty peaceful,” Dar replied blandly. “How’s it been there?”
A long silence ensued. “Did you actually fucking say pirates?”
Mark asked. “Holy shit, Dar!”
“You didn’t really think we could just have an ordinary vacation, did you?” Dar asked with an amused smirk. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Huh?” Mark spluttered. “Oh, here? It’s been dead,” he told her. “Honest.”
Dar waited silently. To pass the time, she blew gently in Kerry’s ear and watched her torso shiver as she held back a laugh.
“Well, just the usual shit, you know, boss,” Mark finally admitted. “Nothin’ you guys need to worry about.”
Kerry turned her head at that and her green eyes widened.
“Mark?” She raised her voice. “You just made me really nervous.”
“Um…”
Dar covered her eyes. “Mark, just spill it,” she sighed.
“Honest, guys, just more of the usual,” Mark insisted. “We’ve 94 Melissa Good got some international lines down, and one of the northwest data centers crashed. I had to overnight them a bunch of stuff.”
Kerry eyed her partner. ‘Doesn’t sound that bad,’ she mouthed.
Dar shrugged. “Did the new DC nodes come in?”
“Yep.” Mark sounded relieved. “Hey, listen, I’m glad you called for one thing—we got an early drop date for the new back-up IPC.”
Kerry pumped her fist in the air. “Whoohoo.”
“Incredible,” Dar agreed. “I thought we’d be waiting until February.”
“Well, boss—nothing came back on those guys,” Mark said.
“Not on the first run. You want me to keep going?”
Dar frowned. “Nothing?”
“Nothing on that name, no—or the two other names you gave me,” Mark said. “But that’s just a DMV and Marine reg. I’ll do a deep run on ’em. You want me to give you a call back?”
“Yeah,” Dar said. “We’re going to…” She paused. “What are we going to do now, Ker?”
Kerry lifted both hands in the air and produced an engaging grin.
“We’re gonna do something probably involving water and/or food,” Dar said into the phone. “I’ll keep the phone on. Let me know if you find anything, okay?”
“Will do, boss,” Mark said. “You guys have a great time, huh?
No more freaking pirates!”
“Do our best,” Kerry called out. “Thanks, Mark. Tell everyone we said hi.”
Dar disconnected the call and set the phone on the covers. Now that she’d set her query in motion, she felt satisfied to let it take whatever time it did, and in the meanwhile concentrate on resuming her vacation. “Want to just hike out and explore the place for a while?” she asked. “We’re in the middle of the national park here.”
Kerry nodded. “I like that idea,” she said. “It’s so pretty.
Reminds me a little of that hammock down by Old Cutler we went to that one time.” She sat up. “Okay, on with the hiking boots, then.” She patted Dar’s leg. “Let’s go find us some pretty lizards.”
LIZARDS, THEY FOUND in plenty, along with other assorted wildlife. Dar gingerly examined a vivid, bright green snake curled on a branch, taking care to keep her hands far away from it. “Did you see this?” she asked Kerry, who was busy taking a picture of some gorgeous flowers.
“See what?” Kerry trotted over and peered. “Oh!” She quickly brought up her camera and focused. “Hey, aren’t you going to grab Terrors of the High Seas 95
its tail and tell me what a beauty it is?”
Dar glanced down. “Does wearing khaki shorts and hiking boots require me to channel Steve Irwin?” she asked.
Kerry snickered. “Yes.”
“Tell you what tail I’m gonna grab.” Dar waited for her to snap the picture, then acted, grabbing onto Kerry’s tail and making her hop forward with a startled squawk. “Isn’t she a beauty?” Dar mimicked. “Lookit the bottom on that one!”
“Wench.” Kerry reached behind her and tickled Dar’s ribs, then continued down the path. They were surrounded by lush greenery, and a rich, organic smell filled her lungs as the wind stirred the branches. The jungle around them thinned ahead and revealed a mossy, stone-covered building. “Look, Dar.” Kerry motioned toward it. “Is that one of the sugar mills?”
“Must be.” Dar led the way toward the structure. It was just a pile of old stone now, a mixture of coral foundation and crudely made brick. They climbed onto it and looked around. Dar imagined she could still smell the tang of raw sugar cane, something she’d last tasted as a young child. “You ever chew sugar cane?” she asked Kerry.
“Me?” Kerry was kneeling next to a piece of machinery long overgrown with ivy. “You’re kidding, right?” She looked over her shoulder at Dar. “One, I don’t think it grows in Michigan, and two, my mother would have cut the hands off anyone giving it to me.”
She paused. “Have you?”
“Sure.” Dar grinned. “The best is to get a nice piece, chew it a little, then dunk it in your lemonade.”
Kerry’s gaze went inward for a moment as she worked out the potential tastes; then she wiggled her eyebrows and licked her lips.
“Mm.” She got up and snapped a picture of the bit of machinery.
“That does sound really good.”
Dar wandered over to a row of old wooden basins nailed onto the walls with rusted iron spikes. The mill had made sugar for sale, and for the rum and molasses that had been the impetus for the island’s colonization. Slaves had worked there under increasingly brutal conditions until they’d eventually risen up and conquered their masters, driving the plantation owners out and leaving the island to peacefully stagnate until modern times and modern tourism.
“Must have been brutal working here,” Dar mused, touching grooves worn in the wooden sinks from countless wrists resting on them as they washed the cane.
“Mm,” Kerry agreed, imagining the sweltering summer heat.
“Maybe we should bring the staff over here when they start complaining about the vending machine selection.”
Dar chuckled. “Just take lots of pictures,” she advised. “Wow, 96 Meli
ssa Good did you see that?”
Kerry examined the huge wheels curiously. “What is it?”
“Grinding stone,” Dar explained. “They put the cane between that and ground it up to get out the sugar syrup.”
Kerry leaned over and sniffed the stone. “Just smells like mildew now,” she said. “It’s hard to believe that a place like this, as full of misery as it must have been, produced something so many people regard as a treat.”
“Yeah,” Dar agreed. “Speaking of which, want to stop and have our sandwiches?”
After Dar spent a moment making sure they weren’t about to sit on any snakes or scorpions, they picked a spot on the edge of the coral foundation. Kerry opened the pack Dar had been carrying and removed a Thermos bottle and two neatly wrapped packages.
She set down the Thermos and unwrapped the sandwiches, crusty French bread wrapped around spicy shrimp salad.
“Wow.” Kerry handed Dar hers. “This looks great. All this hiking has made me hungry.”
“Mmph.” Dar had already taken a bite. She uncapped the Thermos and poured out a capful of its contents, took a sip, and passed it over to Kerry. “Coconut and passion fruit. Interesting.”
Kerry washed down her mouthful and took another. “Very.”
She kicked her heels against the foundation and looked around, enjoying the food, the view, and the utter freedom of being in an unknown place with the person she loved best in the world.
“They’ve got horseback trails,” Dar commented hopefully.
“Interested?”
Kerry glanced at her knowingly. “Make a deal with you,” she bargained adroitly. “Horseback riding one day, windsailing the next?” She didn’t quite have the enthusiasm for horses that Dar did, but then Dar didn’t quite share her love of wild water sports.
However, compromise was good. It was a learning process, like everything else, and slowly they’d worked out a way to balance their differences. Mostly, Kerry acknowledged wryly. There were still some things they were working on. “Deal?”
“Okay.” Dar wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. She leaned back against the ruined wall and relaxed while Kerry finished up her lunch, the blonde woman resting an elbow on Dar’s knee. “A lot of people come out here and camp in the park.”