by Melissa Good
Thoughtfully, she regarded the page and then added two more lines to the several already there. A knock on the door, however, interrupted her.
With a resigned sigh, Kerry put down her book and went inside, going to the door and peeking through the eyehole. “Oh, crap.” Seeing the female half of DeSalliers’ gumshoe team outside, she considered not answering it. Then she figured she was likely to get more info from the woman than the woman was going to get from her, so she opened the door. “Yes?” Her tone made no pretense of being friendly, and the woman took a half step back.
“Oh, hello, Kerry,” the woman recovered. “I was hoping to talk to you.”
“Why?” Kerry asked bluntly.
“Just because I think we can help each other.”
Kerry had to wonder briefly if stupidity was contagious.
Perhaps Christen had spent a little too much time with Bob. “Help each other do what?” she inquired. “So far, all you people have Terrors of the High Seas 223
done is help me get a migraine.”
Christen sighed. “Look, can I just come in and talk?”
“No,” Kerry replied. “I’m not sure what it’s going to take to get across the fact that we don’t want anything to do with you, your boss, your stupid mission, or the people you represent. I’m out of options. Should I hire a flying banner plane?”
“The fact is, honey, you are involved.” Christen’s attitude changed, became harder. “So either you let me in and give me what I want, or—”
“Or what?” Kerry found it almost funny. “Are you going to pull a gun on me?”
“No.”
“Are you going to make like Jackie Chan and start yowling Japanese haiku while striking kung fu poses?”
Christen didn’t answer.
“Are you going to try to hit me?” Kerry’s nose crinkled up in amusement. “Threaten me with a lawsuit? What?”
“You think this is a game, don’t you?”
“Hey, you’re the one making the threats.” Kerry laughed, and then got serious herself, jabbing the air in Christen’s direction.
“You listen to me, you half-baked excuse for a high-priced, snoopy lackey. You’d better just back off and go back where you came from. Stop messing with us.”
“Or?” Christen threw the comment back at her.
“Or I’ll call the president of your agency and file a complaint of harassment without cause,” Kerry replied.
Christen laughed. “You think he’ll care?”
“When he gets a call from the executive VP of the company where he gets all his data? Yeah.” Kerry smiled. “He’ll care,” she assured the now not-smiling Christen. “And if he doesn’t listen to me, he’ll listen to Dar.” She watched Christen’s face. “Tch… didn’t do your homework, did you?”
“Your inquiry came back totally negative.”
“Not surprising.” Kerry smiled. “Try it with a last name of Stuart.” She started to close the door. “You, on the other hand, provided us with a lot of information. You and your little partner really should work a little harder, you know? That last job of yours was a real disaster.”
Christen had turned brick red.
“So don’t you mess with me, lady,” Kerry warned her seriously. “You’re an amateur. It offends me that you actually get paid to be an amateur. My Labrador Retriever would do better as a detective, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re just a flashy poser.
Scoot.”
She slammed the door with a sense of guilty satisfaction.
“Jerk.” She turned and started to walk away, then stopped as a 224 Melissa Good knock came at the door again. With a growl, she whirled and yanked open the door, a further stream of invective ready and waiting. Which she swallowed when she found herself facing a doe-eyed, uniformed, room service waitress. “Oh.” She stepped back.
“Hi. C’mon in.”
Christen was nowhere to be seen. Kerry allowed herself a moment of regret for her outburst, wondering belatedly if she shouldn’t have just let the woman in to have her say. Maybe she could have learned something from her.
Ah well. Kerry watched the waitress set the tray down. Too late now. She walked over and took the check, reviewing it and then signing. “Everything looks great. Thanks. ”
The woman smiled shyly. “You are welcome. You are good customers,” she said. “So many bring sandwiches with them, just make a mess.”
Kerry grinned, her good humor restored. “Well, we’ve got sandwiches on the boat, but one of the nice things about visiting other places is getting to sample their culture and foods. You can’t do that with peanut butter.”
The woman nodded agreement, then slipped to the door, backing in surprise when it opened inward to admit Dar. “Oh.”
Dar regarded the woman with a raised eyebrow, then moved aside to let her out. She closed the door after her then walked over to Kerry, setting a colorful, print bag on the chair. “Hi.” Her blue eyes went to the table. “Looks like I’m just in time.”
“Yes, you are,” Kerry agreed, lifting the covers and revealing some intriguing dishes involving eggs, fruit, native spices, and seafood. “You just missed our friend Christen.”
“No, I didn’t.” Dar sniffed appreciatively. “She crashed into me on her way storming out of the building.” She sampled a bit of papaya. “Mm.”
“I think I pissed her off.”
“Good. I made it worse. She fell on her ass,” Dar replied.
“What’d she want?”
Kerry sat down “Unfortunately, I have no idea. I was too busy insulting her to find out.” She gave Dar a mildly regretful look. “In hindsight, maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. She wanted to talk to me, said she could help me out.”
“Out of what?” Dar asked, setting her napkin aside and pouring Kerry some passion fruit juice.
“Well, that’s what I don’t know,” Kerry said. “I told her she was a fraud and sent her packing, actually. I told her if she didn’t leave us alone, we’d call her boss.”
“Ah.” Dar investigated her fluffy shrimp and pepper egg cup.
“Well, I don’t really blame you,” she admitted. “I’m just waiting for it to be nine a.m. over in the States before I put in a call to Wharton.
Terrors of the High Seas 225
Maybe after that, they’ll just disappear.” She opened a crusty brown roll and put some butter on it. “Damn, these people are a pain in my ass.”
Kerry slowly chewed a piece of star fruit. “What do you think he’ll do?” she asked. “Wharton, I mean? From the background information we pulled on him, he seems pretty rough. Is there a chance this is going to backfire on us, Dar?”
“Eh.” Dar put a bit of her eggs on her roll. “I was thinking about that. Maybe I should keep it anonymous instead of telling him who I am.”
“Hm,” Kerry murmured. “Just tell him you’re out here, and you found something? Will that be enough for him to call off DeSalliers and the wonder twins?”
In the light of day, Dar had been wondering the same thing.
Her plan last night had seemed simple and straightforward, but now she was starting to have doubts. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “Maybe I’d feel better if I actually had something under my belt before I call him.”
“You want to visit the government offices first?” Kerry asked.
“Maybe we can dig up some stuff there, and you can just fax it or something. Maybe that’ll be enough.”
And then what? “Okay, that sounds good,” Dar agreed. “You know, Ker, I was thinking—what if the old man was nuts?”
“The thought had crossed my mind,” Kerry admitted. “But leaving your fortune to charity doesn’t sound very nutty to me, Dar. If he’d left it to Greenpeace after spending a life trolling a net, maybe, but…I checked out the charities. Fisherman’s Home, local firefighters in Boston…a lot of community stuff,” she said. “So I don’t know—maybe he had reason to cut the kids out.”
Dar selected a stra
wberry, took a bite, and then offered the rest to Kerry. “Money sometimes ruins a family,” she observed. “It changes everything, doesn’t it?”
Kerry didn’t answer immediately. “I guess it does,” she said.
“In my family, it was kind of taken for granted.” She sounded a little surprised. “No one really thought about the money part of it.
It was the power that attracted the attention.” A faint chuckle emerged from her throat. “You know something? They’re executing my father’s will this week, and I never even thought twice about being cut out of it.”
“What would you do if you weren’t?” Dar asked curiously. “I mean, if you found out you were getting something?”
“Donate it to charity,” Kerry answered instantly. “I don’t…want anything from him, from them.” She studied her fork.
“I have everything I’ve ever wanted or needed in you.”
Dar reached over and clasped Kerry’s hand. “Ker, you know I feel the same way. But don’t be shocked if you end up with 226 Melissa Good something in that will after all.” She spoke softly. “But it might not be money.”
Kerry was briefly silent, then she lifted her eyes and met Dar’s.
“Do you know something, or are you just guessing?” she asked quietly.
Dar shook her head. “Just guessing.”
“Or is it because you have the father you do, that you cut mine some slack?” Kerry rested her chin on her hand. “People are bastards, Dar. Fatherhood doesn’t grant them nobility if they didn’t already have it in them.”
“True,” Dar said. “But most people aren’t either totally good or totally bad. You never know.” She eased off the subject, seeing Kerry’s discomfort with it. “At any rate, I think a visit to town is probably a good idea. I’ll hold off contacting Wharton until we’ve got more data available to us.”
Kerry wasn’t quite ready to abandon the conversation, though.
“Do you really think my father had redeeming qualities?” she asked Dar seriously.
“I think he was your father, and that’s enough of a redeeming quality for me,” Dar replied.
Kerry sighed. “I used to think that,” she said. “Maybe part of me still wants to believe it. But…if I believe that, then it makes it all the more difficult for me to accept what I did.”
“Mm.” Dar chafed Kerry’s fingers with her own.
“So it’s easier for me to believe otherwise,” Kerry went on. “I’d rather hate him than hate myself.” She sighed heavily. “So, frankly, I hope I get a sack of coal if I get anything, Dar.”
Ah. “I gotcha.” Dar squeezed her hand.
“Maybe after some time’s passed, I’ll feel differently. But right now, I can’t deal with it.”
“Okay.”
Kerry looked at her. “That’s pretty chickenshit, isn’t it?”
“No.”
“Yes, it is,” Kerry said with a wry chuckle. “But you know, that’s the first time I’ve been able to talk about that since he died, so maybe it’s okay to be a chickenshit for a while.” And it was, she realized. It was as though she’d taken a step back and gained at least a tiny measure of perspective. Was it part of some healing process? Maybe. Kerry felt obscurely better all of a sudden, and she picked up her fork and went after the remainder of her breakfast.
“I’ve got to go to the bank and get that cash out,” Dar suddenly remembered. “Damn, I forgot about that.” She took a mouthful of eggs and chewed them. “Get that done before we go hunting for information.”
“I can’t believe you got Bud and Charlie to agree to let you do that.” Kerry smiled. “I’m glad you did, though.”
Terrors of the High Seas 227
“Well, it’s going to be a loan. They won’t let me get away with giving it to them as a gift,” Dar said. “But the terms’ll be a hell of a lot better than they had.” She shook her head. “Want to come with me?”
“You bet your butt I do.” Kerry finished her fruit juice and stood up. “Be right back.”
Dar watched her duck into the bathroom, then concentrated on clearing her plate as the sound of running water filtered through to her. The decision to do some data mining before confronting their putative adversary was, she thought, a good one. They might find some facts. Dar liked facts. She put them in her pocket and used them like darts, flipping them out and nailing people with them when they least expected it. Facts were good.
Dar drained her coffee cup. She didn’t mind bluffing, but bluffing was always easier when you had something to fall back on.
She stood and wiped her lips, then dropped her napkin on the table.
Her backpack stood mutely in the corner. She went over and lifted it, then slipped it over her shoulders. Kerry came out and joined her at the door and they left the room, heading off to find some facts.
Or some trouble. Or maybe both.
DAR HELD OPEN the door to the Chase Bank, waiting for Kerry to enter and then following her inside. The bank was on the way to the police station and courthouse, so they’d decided to stop there first. Dar pulled off her sunglasses and looked around, then walked across to a small desk with a receptionist behind it.
“Good morning.” The receptionist greeted them with a professional smile. “What can I do for you ladies today?”
“I have a wire transfer I need to pick up,” Dar explained. “It was generated last night.”
“Sure.” The woman glanced behind her to a single desk with a young man at it. “Mr. Steel? Are you free?”
The man looked up. “Yes, I am.”
Dar and Kerry walked over and sat down at the man’s desk.
Dar removed her driver’s license from her wallet and handed it to him. “I requested a wire transfer last night,” she repeated. “From Florida.”
Mr. Steel took the license and put it in the desk, then typed Dar’s name into his computer. He waited, then nodded. “Yes, Ms.
Roberts, we have it.” He leaned closer to the screen. “For… ten thousand American?”
“Yep.”
“Would you like that as a draft, ma’am?”
A draft. Dar considered her memory of Cheapside Guido and sighed inwardly. “Cash,” she replied. “Gimme it in hundreds.”
228 Melissa Good The bank officer frowned. “Ma’am, it’s not a good idea to carry that much currency on your person,” he objected. “Really.”
“I know,” Dar agreed. “But I won’t be carrying it long, hopefully.”
The man still didn’t like it, but he tapped in a request and hit enter. “Okay, let me just get that for you.” He stood and walked to a locked door, keying in a code and disappearing.
Kerry looked around at the empty bank with its one remaining teller. “Quiet.”
“Mm.” Dar leaned back. The bank’s outer door opened and two men came in, bypassing the receptionist and heading for the teller.
They were tall, and there was something vaguely familiar about one of them that set Dar’s mind to itching.
The man was dressed in typical island fashion—surfer-type shorts and a loose print shirt. He was wearing deck sandals and a red baseball cap, and carrying a worn bank deposit bag.
Dar frowned. A lot of people on the island looked just like this guy. So what was it? The walk? The attitude…
“Dar.” Kerry’s voice broke into her concentration.
“Yeah?”
Kerry lowered her voice to a whisper. “I think that’s one of the pirates that attacked us yesterday.”
Oh. Duh. “Guess that’s why he seemed familiar,” Dar whispered back.
They watched the man push several things across to the teller, seemingly relaxed and at ease. The teller took them and processed them, smiling at the man, apparently familiar with him.
“What are we going to do?” Kerry murmured. “If we recognized him, he’ll probably recognize us.”
Dar gauged the distance between them. “He didn’t on the way in,” she said. “Let’s just turn around and see w
hat happens.”
Kerry shifted in her chair and looked at Dar. “Okay, but what are we going to do after that?”
“Maybe we can find out what his name is.”
“And report him to the police?” Kerry glanced quickly behind her, then back. “Dar, he’s obviously a known quantity here.”
“Uh huh.” Dar didn’t seem surprised.
The inner door opened and the bank officer reappeared. He was carrying a small box, and he looked around as he crossed back to his desk. His eyes fell on the two men. “Ah. Morning, Mr.
Chasiki.”
The man turned at his name and smiled, then his eyes slipped past the banker and focused on Dar’s face.
Uh oh. Dar thought fast, meeting his eyes briefly, then moving on, hoping she was projecting an air of profound disinterest. She’d seen the recognition as he looked at her.
Terrors of the High Seas 229
“Yeah, yeah,” the man answered the bank manager. “Great holiday, yeah?” His voice was tense.
“Very good, thanks.” The officer sat down and put the box in the center of his desk. He pulled over some paperwork and filled out a few forms. “All right, Ms. Roberts, let me just fill this out and you’ll be all set.”
“Thanks.” Dar rested her elbows on the desk and resisted the urge to turn and look at the pirate. Next to her, Kerry was leaning back with her arms folded, her back mostly toward the teller. The blonde woman looked tense, a furrow creasing her brow.
“Here you go. Please sign here” Mr. Steel indicated a space on the form. “I’ve made a copy of your driver’s license, and here’s that back.” He handed her the card.
Dar picked up the pen and studied the form, her ears cocked as she heard footsteps approaching them. They stopped just behind her, and she watched the officer’s eyes from the corner of her own, seeing them go up and over her shoulder curiously. She signed her name on the form.
“Something you need, sir?” the officer asked.
“Nah. Just thinking.” The pirate spoke from just behind them.
“Later.” The footsteps receded and the door opened, letting in the sound of wind and the street.