Terrors of the High Seas

Chapter

Two

IT WAS ALMOST dusk by the time Dar shifted the diesels into reverse and idled them into the much smaller dock outside their cabin. She maneuvered the Bertram carefully, sliding into place and holding it there until Kerry could leap off onto the wood and secure the lines to the cleats onshore.

When Dar had first come into her Aunt May’s estate, she’d been a little wary of driving the large yacht. After all, other than some clandestine ventures on government-issue vessels, most of her piloting had been done on much smaller boats. However, she’d been working on the water since she was four, and it hadn’t taken her long to master the big boat’s powerful engines and imposing size, and after that she’d sort of enjoyed taking the vessel out.

Pulling up to some out-of-the-way shrimp shack in the thing and sauntering off to get a Coke in front of a legion of goggling guys tickled her sometimes dark sense of humor.

Now she handled the throttles with a master’s touch as she held her ground while they were tied. The boat bumped gently against the pylons, buffered by the large rubber bumpers Kerry had tossed over the edge of the dock, and Dar shut down the engines, flexing her hands as she removed them from the throttles.

As the sound died, the peacefulness of the place surrounded her, and Dar spent a moment just gazing at their little piece of paradise before she took her sunburned self down the stairs. It wasn’t a large lot, just big enough for the cabin, the sandy ground that led down to the dock on one side and to a small beach on the other, and on the far side of the cabin—a driveway winding up to the road.

It was shaded though, with a thick stand of trees, and surrounded by patches of foliage on either side, so the effect was of snug isolation on this little point of the Key. It was calm, almost sleepy, and Dar liked it. Equally important, she thought, Kerry really likes it too.

And so far, it had been a great day. The quick dive stop had turned into a deep wreck excursion, followed by lunch inside a tiki 8 Melissa Good hut, followed by a very nice reef dive in the late afternoon. They hadn’t been doing that much diving lately, and Dar felt pleasantly tired and a little embarrassed that she’d forgotten to put on enough sunscreen and had mildly toasted herself.

Ah well. She stretched, hopped up onto the edge of the boat, and stepped off onto the dock. Kerry was returning from opening up the cabin, a splash of pink making her fair lashes stand out vividly. “Everything okay?”

“Looks like it.”

Kerry waited for Dar on the end of the dock, then fell into step beside her as they walked up the short path. Having started out as a ramshackle old barn for a larger house that had once stood nearby, the cabin had evolved beyond recognition since they’d first purchased it. They’d ripped down most of the original building and rebuilt, using native stone for the foundation.

In the rear, facing the water, there was a small porch. They climbed the two broad steps up to it and crossed to the door, the new planks squeaking a bit under their weight. Someday, Dar wanted a padded bench or maybe one of the swing chairs like they had at the condo out there, but at the moment the porch was just an empty space.

Kerry pushed the door open and they entered; the strong scent of fresh wood and varnish washed over them. Inside, they’d chosen to keep the wood walls and stone floors natural, and the large room in front would eventually have comfortable chairs where they could sit and look at the wonderful view out the big picture windows.

Behind that room, a small kitchen was tucked into one corner, and in the other, a hallway led back to the master bedroom. Two more doors extended past that, an office for each of them—

complete with high-speed network access, printers, and everything else they’d ever need to run work operations from the cabin if they wanted to. Dar was particularly proud of the gigabit Ethernet hub and cabling she’d spent one weekend installing.

Aren’t too many rustic cabins, Kerry acknowledged, that can claim their own Fractional T1 and Cisco router.

They were still missing the living area furniture, some of the smaller kitchen appliances, and a lot of other trimmings like rugs and stuff for the walls, but already the place was taking on a certain personality of its own—a reflection of both of theirs. “Looking good in here,” Kerry remarked as she closed the door behind them. The air was cool and dry, evidence of the newly installed air conditioning unit.

“Definitely.” Dar grinned. The ceiling arched up to a skylight that let even more sun into the living room and lent a sense of lightness to the rich wood interior. “I really like it.”

Kerry glanced up at her. “Me too,” she admitted. “It’s…” She Terrors of the High Seas 9

turned around and surveyed their little castle. “Don’t get me wrong, Dar. Only an idiot would complain about where we live, but this place is kinda special.”

Dar nodded. “It’s ours,” she replied simply. “We designed it.

We made it. Hell, we helped build it.” A not-quite-stifled yawn interrupted her speech. “Whoa.”

“Teach you to chase flounder.” Kerry chuckled, slipping an arm around Dar’s waist. “I got some great pictures of you doing that, you know.”

“Oh great, more fodder for the bathroom wall,” Dar replied drolly.

“Hmm…” Kerry mused in mock speculation. “Yeah, that would work with the silver and blue fixtures in there.” She glanced into their bedroom, starkly empty save for a neatly folded inflatable bed in the center. It was a large room, with two polarized floor-to-ceiling dormer windows on either side of where the bed was. A door in the rear led to a bathroom that had a stall shower and a large, thoroughly decadent spa tub. Around the top of the room ran a wooden ledge, common throughout the cabin, and Dar had already threatened to install a train set that would make its way around the place on top of the rail.

They were like a couple of kids, Kerry had to admit privately, furnishing their first tree house. She half expected to come out one day and find a tire hanging from one of the banyans outside. Of course it would be a high-technological tire, with three hanging points and a custom-molded interior ring. What was it that Dar had once referred to their place as? Microsoft Rustic.

True. Kerry smiled. But they both liked their comforts, were used to the gadgets, and they could afford them. So, why not?

“How about something cold for dinner, and a pot of coffee?” she suggested.

Dar considered. “Tell you what—you start the coffee, and I’ll walk down to the corner and get the something cold.” She nibbled Kerry’s nose. “We need sugar anyway.”

“Mm.” Kerry leaned into the kiss, her fingers trailing over Dar’s bare arm. “Boy, you’re warm.”

Dar chuckled softly under her breath. “Gimme a minute and I’ll be even warmer.” She cupped Kerry’s chin and kissed her again, catching lingering traces of the tangerine yogurt they’d shared not long before. “You got a little burned, too.”

“Oh,” Kerry murmured. “Is that why I have chills?” She felt Dar’s arms fold around her. “Funny, they’re getting worse. Maybe you should hold me tighter.”

Dar chuckled. “Hedonist.”

“Mmhm.” Kerry let her hands slide over Dar’s back as she continued exploring with her lips. Then she exhaled, and nuzzled 10 Melissa Good Dar’s neck, reveling in the peace, the quiet, and the fact that it was just the two of them.

“Think you’d better blow up the bed,” Dar whispered in her ear.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dar replied. “’Cause I need to take care of those chills.

Don’t want you catching cold.”

Kerry rested a hand on Dar’s hip. “Sweetie, you’re the one causing the chills.” She ducked her head and nipped at Dar’s breast.

“And because it’s the only furniture in the place,” Dar teased.

“I figure we can inaugurate that spa tub, then have dinner in bed.”

“Or dinner and bed,” Kerry replied, her eyes twinkling.

“Sounds great to me either way.” She kissed Dar again, then nudged her belly. “You go, I’ll blow.”

Both of Dar’s eyebrows hiked up.

“Careful, they’ll stick like that.” Kerry reached up and yanked an eyebrow down. “Wouldn’t you look silly?”

Dar stuck out her tongue. “You’re in a mood,” she remarked. “I like it.” She gave Kerry a tickle across her ribs, then headed down the hallway to what they thought of as the back door to the cabin.

It was, of course, the front door, but since they tended to arrive by boat, they didn’t often enter that way. Dar passed the small utility room with its unused connections for the washer and dryer that hadn’t been delivered yet, and entered the plain open space near the outer door to the cabin. She turned the lock and let herself out, then closed the door behind her.

They had put a porch in front too, but smaller than the one that faced the water. It was surrounded by a sturdy wooden flower box that was hip high on Dar, and there was a gate flanked by two wrought iron, coach-type lights. Dar opened the gate and walked through, heading along the neat, rock-defined path up to the road.

The yard was more sand and scrub than grass, typical of the Keys, and was bordered by a Chinese cherry hedge. Dar broke into a jog as she passed it, then ran lightly down the road towards the small, what Kerry called “charmingly rustic” market just at the next crossroads.

She made the trip without bumping into another soul until she pushed open the door to the market and walked inside. The shop had well-stocked shelves, a respectable collection of fresh fruits and vegetables, and best of all, a very fresh seafood counter in the back.

Dar headed for it, then examined the choices laid out on ice in the cold case.

“Well, hello there, young lady.”

The cheerful voice almost made her jump. Dar looked up to see the owner standing behind the fish case, wiping his hands on a Terrors of the High Seas 11

towel. “Evening.”

“Got some great looking crabs today.”

Dar’s eyes twinkled. “Not today, thanks. Gimme a pound of the shrimp and two of the tails.” She watched contentedly as the man wrapped up the chilled, already cooked seafood. “Thanks.” She accepted the package and went toward the dairy case, not really paying attention when the market door opened.

“Hey, mister.”

Aware that the salutation didn’t include her, Dar studied her choices in milk, cocking half an ear behind her mostly because the rough voice that had spoken had set off her trouble sonar.

“What can I do for you?” the market owner replied.

“Got any shotgun shells?”

After a moment’s pause, the owner chuckled. “Son, this is a grocery, not a Sportsman’s Paradise,” he said. “We don’t sell no guns here.”

“Aw, man, you mean I gotta go up to the Wal-Mart? That sucks!

Why don’t you get them stuff here? You got all kinds of other crap!”

“Well, you gotta get a license, for one thing—”

“So? Go get one!” The voice was getting belligerent. “You’re supposed to get what people need, right?”

Dar set her package down and replaced the sugar she’d been considering; then she circled the row of canned goods and examined the noisy newcomer. It was, as she’d suspected, a boy in his late teens, dressed in an NRA T-shirt and jeans with patches consisting of Confederate flags. “Oh, look,” Dar muttered under her breath. “Walking stereotype. Wonder where his pickup’s parked.”

“So get off yer ass and get us some service here!” the boy demanded.

“Now, look, son—”

“Don’t you call me that, you old jackass!”

Dar walked over. “Excuse me.”

The boy turned, irritation switching to lechery in the blink of a hormone as his eyes took in Dar’s suntanned, mostly exposed body.

“Hey, baby! What c’n I do for ya?”

Detecting fermented malt, Dar’s nose twitched. “Stop breathing.”

He blinked. “Huh?”

Dar abandoned that tack. “You go to the hardware store for bread?”

“Naw.”

“So why come here for gun supplies?”

The boy didn’t seem to mind the questions, his eyes busy taking in Dar’s athletic form. “’Cause it’s closer’n hauling my ass 12 Melissa Good up the road to the Wal-Mart.” He grinned suddenly. “You wanna ride in my truck?”

“No,” Dar replied. “What are you shooting?”

“Huh?”

“You’re buying shotgun shells.”

“Yeah?”

“What are you going to shoot them at?”

“Signs,” the boy replied amiably. “Or them little deers, or whatever.”

Dar frowned. “For what?”

“Fer fun,” the boy said. “You wanna come? I got me a box of shells. Just wanted some more in case I find me some ’gators or something. You up fer some fun, baby?”

Dar stared at him for a moment, then felt the wash of adrenaline and anger sweep through her. “Sure.” She grinned. “I love fun.” She moved in a blur, drawing her right hand back and cocking it, then letting loose and cracking the now really smirking boy across the chops. He spun away from her and fell over a stack of beer cases, slamming his head against the doorpost.

“That was fun.” Dar stalked after him intently. “C’mere, you brainless little punk.” She grabbed him and yanked him to his feet, shoving him against the wall. “You think hurting animals is funny?

I think this is funny.” She nailed him in the groin with her knee, then tossed him against the door.

“Hey! Hey!” The boy scrambled to his feet. “Ow! Son of a bitch!

Ow!” He bolted for the door, a trail of blood from his nose left behind him, and got through it an instant before Dar could latch onto him. He raced for the pickup parked outside and jumped in, started the engine, and roared off while Dar glared at him from the doorway.

She waited for the taillights to disappear around the first bend, then stepped back inside the store and dusted off her hands, shaking her head in disgust. “Another fine example of why stupid humans shouldn’t breed.”

The grocer was laughing as Dar walked back over. “Ma’am, I think you made an impression on that kid.”

Dar retrieved her package and her sugar, then added a few other things before she plunked it all down on the counter and dug out her wallet. “You get much of that here?”

“Not a lot.” The owner rang up her purchases. “You new in the area…” He glanced at the credit card Dar handed him. “Ms.

Roberts? Thought I’d seen you around once or twice.”

Dar leaned against the counter. “Not exactly,” she allowed. “I grew up on the Navy base, but I’ve been living up in Miami for a while. Bought the old Potter place last year.”

He looked up at her, honestly surprised. “You did?” His Terrors of the High Seas 13

interest was kindled. “Now, I was hearing some big-shot computer executive bought that place.”

Dar tipped her sunglasses down and cool blue eyes regarded him with some amusement. “That would be me.”

The man gaped a moment, then burst into laughter. “Well, kick mah ass,” he managed to get out. “You sure don’t look like a Bill Gates, now do you?”

Lucky me. Dar grinned in wry acknowledgment. Lucky Kerry, too.

“Been talking about all the work going on up there. You pretty much just built the whole thing all over again, didn’t cha?”

“Pretty much,” Dar agreed, signing the slip for her groceries.

“Just getting the last stuff done.”

“Well, then,” the man took the slip and tucked it into the drawer, then held out a hand, “welcome to the neighborhood, Ms.

Roberts. Hope to see more of ya.”

Dar returned the clasp. “Careful what you ask for,” she drawled, giving him a wry wink before she picked up her bag and sauntered out, content with her brief entrance on the sleepy town’s unsuspecting stage.

AFTER DAR LEFT, Kerry spent a few moments wandering around the cabin. She walked over to the wall and laid her hands flat on its surface, basking in a sense of ownership she found almost intoxicating.

Ours.

Kerry turned and leaned against the wall, letting her eyes roam around the room. When she had put her name on the title next to Dar’s, this cabin had become the very first real thing she could call her own, and she felt very differently about it than she did about the condo.

She turned and peeked into the kitchen, at the sleek, well-fitted appliances she’d picked herself, and the pretty marble countertop that provided a place to sit and have breakfast. It was cute and cozy.

Kerry smiled as she walked over to the bedroom, rubbing her fingers against the wooden doorjamb as she entered. It was her favorite room in the cabin, and not just because of the obvious. She knelt and started the small motor that would inflate the Aerobed, then walked over and inspected the bathroom, approving the neat work around the sunken spa tub. One corner of the space was a glassed-in shower, the other was the tub, and between lay a large vanity flanked by not one, but two toilets.

Kerry liked that. She and Dar had pondered over the notion for quite a while before they’d decided to have it done. The vanity had 14 Melissa Good a three-quarter mirror around it, providing just enough privacy.

She opened the cabinet, idly looking at the few supplies they’d left there.

This would be only the third night they’d spent at the cabin, and she found herself looking forward to the time when all the furniture would be there, and the place gained a sense of…home.

She left the bed to inflate and walked back to their dual offices, now just empty spaces waiting for the delivery of the custom-made desks they’d ordered. Both rooms had big windows and skylights.

Once the furniture was in, they could plug into the company network as easily as if they were at the condo. Or at the office. She was looking forward to spending more time there.

The pump cut off and she returned to the bedroom, picked up the sheet set, and shook it out over the queen-size, double-height air mattress. She tucked in the fabric, then unfolded the comforter she’d brought with her from Michigan and settled it over the bed, tossing their pillows up to the head of the bed when she finished.

Kerry walked back into the living room and retrieved the overnight bag they’d brought in from the boat. She zipped it open, smiling as familiar scents were released from the clothing and other sundries inside. Two towels were on top. She removed them and put them in the bathroom, then took out the shirts they both liked to wear before bed.

It had taken her a little while to get used to sleeping in the nude, but once she had, she’d become almost addicted to the primal comfort of snuggling under the covers with Dar, and she found she slept like an absolute rock once she’d tucked herself around her partner’s body.

Her ears perked up as she heard the back door to the cabin open, and Dar’s rhythmic footsteps approached.

“Ker?”

“In here,” Kerry replied, turning as a dark head poked into the bedroom. “Just getting stuff out.”

Dar held up a brown paper wrapped package invitingly.

“Dinner?”

Kerry held up her shirt. “Shower first?”

One of Dar’s eyebrows quirked. “I’ll stick this in the fridge,”

she remarked with a knowing smirk before disappearing in the direction of the kitchen.

Kerry chuckled softly to herself. “Heh.” She dropped the shirts onto the bed and eased her light cotton blouse off her shoulders, wincing slightly at the sting of a mild sunburn. “Ouch.”

“Uh huh.” Dar had returned, bearing a small blue jar. “Figured we both could use this.” She held up the cold cream. “With aloe.”

“You rock.” Kerry held out a hand and led Dar to the bathroom, opened the shower door, and reached in to start the Terrors of the High Seas 15

water running. The first time they’d stayed in the cabin, the electricity hadn’t even been on, and after bravely bearing the oppressive heat inside the half-finished building, they finally admitted defeat and curled up together out on the beach, hoping against hope they’d escape both crabs and foul weather.

They had, but Kerry had found tiny, suspicious red marks on her neck that had worried her a lot until Dar rather sheepishly admitted to having made them with some overenthusiastic nibbling.

Ah, love. Kerry turned to see Dar with her disintegrating shorts unbuttoned and her tank top half over her head. She reached over and tickled her belly button, watching Dar’s abdominals contract as she chuckled in reaction. Blue eyes emerged a moment later as Dar got her shirt off, and shook a finger at Kerry in mock remonstrance.

Kerry relented as she pulled off her own shirt, feeling a light tickle as Dar unhooked her bra. They finished getting undressed and squeezed into the shower together. “Ooo,” Kerry hissed as her sunburned skin protested the pressure of the hot water. A moment later, the pressure ceased as Dar stepped between her and the spray.

“Hang on.” Dar adjusted the water to a little cooler temperature and less force. “There.” She dropped her arms around Kerry and pulled her closer, rubbing her back gently. “Better?”

“Much.” Kerry nuzzled between Dar’s breasts. “That wreck today was awesome. The visibility was incredible.”

“Yeah.” Dar squeezed out some coconut body wash and started rubbing it over Kerry’s skin. “Did you get a shot of that sand shark?”

“The one that was fascinated by your flippers? You bet.” Kerry lathered up a handful of soap and started washing Dar. “For a minute there, I thought it was going to start munching on you.”

Dar squirted some shampoo on her partner’s damp head and worked it in with her fingers, massaging Kerry’s scalp as she got the salt water and sand out of it. “I did too,” she confessed. “Did you see me grab my knife?”

Kerry was busy scrubbing Dar’s thigh. “Yep. That was the best picture. That wreck in the background, all that white sand in front of it, and you and the shark facing off. Perfect.”

“Uh oh. I sense more bathroom art.” Dar gave a mock sigh. “If you put it up in the office, every ten minutes you’ll have to answer

‘which one’s the shark?’”

Kerry snickered, her shoulders shaking as she patted Dar’s side. She caught Dar’s right hand and rubbed her thumb over the top of it affectionately, then stopped and examined the skin more closely. The knuckles were slightly swollen, and a scrape marred the second one. Her eyes lifted in question to meet Dar’s.

16 Melissa Good Dar continued rinsing Kerry’s hair with her free hand. “I ran into a brain-cell-deficient organism at the market.” She grinned rakishly. “Some punk who thought bullying old men and shooting animals was a good time.”

“Ah.” Kerry brought the knuckle up and kissed it. “I love it when your Robin Hood streak comes out. Did you really hurt him?”

“Nah. I hit him in the head and the nuts.” Dar turned and got them both under the spray, rinsing off the coconut body wash. She started to lather shampoo in her hair, but felt Kerry tugging her down, and gracefully lowered herself to her knees, giving her shorter partner access to her head.

Dar slid her hands up Kerry’s strong thighs and playfully nibbled her navel as Kerry washed her hair. She felt the surface under her lips move a little more strongly as Kerry inhaled sharply.

Slowly, she worked her way up, past the curving arch of Kerry’s ribs to her breasts, feeling the fingers tangled in her hair move with a suddenly insistent rhythm.

Teasing, she nipped at the underside of one breast then, even over the pattering of the water, heard Kerry’s ragged intake as she went a little higher. With a smile, she released Kerry’s nipple and eased to her feet, planting kisses up the center of her partner’s breastbone until she reached the lips waiting for her.

Kerry’s body slid against Dar’s, and Dar felt Kerry’s hand slide up the inside of her thigh. The water washed the shampoo from her hair down both of them as they kissed and exchanged more intimate touches. Dar fumbled behind her and shut off the faucet, then booted the door open as they eased out of the shower and reached for towels.

The slightly rough surface of the terry cloth was like an explosion of sensation against her already tingling skin, and Dar found her own breathing growing short as Kerry dried her off and she returned the favor. They managed to find their way through the still-unfamiliar confines of the cabin’s bath and the short distance to the bed, falling onto it and rolling as the air mattress bucked with unexpected motion.

“Used to the waterbed.” Kerry chuckled softly, as she recaptured Dar’s lower lip in her teeth.

“Ungh.” Dar stretched out, then wrapped her body around Kerry’s, claiming possession of every inch of her. She slid a leg between Kerry’s and felt her partner’s body lean against hers, a rush of warmth after the cool air of the room. Kerry’s hand cupped her breast and an almost primal growl emerged from her.

Before rational thought became impossible, Dar did briefly hope they wouldn’t forget this bed had no retaining bumpers.

Damn floor didn’t have any padding and neither of them really bounced well.

Terrors of the High Seas 17

“Rrr,” Kerry burred, as their lips once again tasted each other.

Dar stroked her delicately and the sound deepened to a groan.

She stopped worrying about the floor.

KERRY PULLED TO a stop at the corner and waited, allowing a car to pass before she eased up on the throttle a little and turned onto the main and only street that went through the town. She settled her weight on the motorcycle and enjoyed the breeze as it blew against her, gaining guilty pleasure from the fact that she’d shucked the long-sleeved leather jacket tucked into the strap at the back of the bike for her short trip up the road. It was early, the sun just easing over the trees, and the weather was crisp and cool; she’d taken a calculated risk that her growing mastery of the relatively sedate motorcycle wouldn’t make her regret it. She was, after all, wearing her jeans and boots and helmet, so leaving her upper body unprotected was hopefully just a limited exposure. So to speak.

Dar was getting the boat ready for the next leg of their vacation, so Kerry had volunteered to make the short run up to the nearest Wal-Mart for a few things they’d realized they’d forgotten.

Dar had laughed and accused her of just making an excuse to take the bike out, but since she liked to ride it as much as Kerry did, the accusation was specious at best.

“Vroom, vroom.” Kerry glanced down at the Honda Shadow Spirit, then quickly focused her eyes back on the road.

Since there wasn’t much traffic down there, they’d decided to purchase the bike for local errands, especially since they usually arrived by water. It had taken a few weeks’ practice, but Kerry was really enjoying the bike. There was a sense of wildness attached to it that she found appealing, and she always felt a little rebellious when she took the motorcycle out.

Kerry passed through the quiet, empty stretch of scrub and trees, completely alone on the road. The peacefulness appealed to her, reminding her just a little of some of the areas near where she’d been born, where one could drive for an hour or so and not see any habitation around them.

She idly imagined driving the cycle down her street and pulling into her parents’ driveway, then had to stop when she almost lost control of the darn thing while laughing. “And they thought a Mustang was bad.”

After another few minutes, she was entering civilization again, a cluster of buildings and crossroads that were fairly new in appearance. She pulled into a left-turn lane, then swept through the green light into the parking lot of the twenty-four-hour Wal-Mart.

There were several cars there already, but Kerry pulled up to the very front and smoothly stopped, nudging the kickstand down 18 Melissa Good and securing the bike as she dismounted. She pulled off her helmet and ran her fingers through her hair, then strapped the helmet to the back seat. A brief glance at her reflection in the front store windows made her grin. “Kerrison Stuart, biker chick.” She shook her head. “No one in my family would believe this.”

An advertisement posted on the window caught her eye. The blonde brow reflected over it quirked. Squaring her shoulders, she confronted the door and pushed her way through it.

DAR WALKED AROUND the boat, making a last minute inspection before they cast off. She was wearing her swimsuit, with a pair of cotton surfer shorts and a bright blue T-shirt over it. She tucked her hair up under a baseball cap and poked her head inside the diesel chamber, checking the engines with a knowledgeable eye.

Satisfied, she pulled herself slowly up the ladder to the bridge, favoring the shoulder she’d hurt not long before.

It annoyed her that the shoulder still bothered her, but not enough for her to break down and go back to the therapist. She was slowly getting back her normal range of motion, and she figured maybe the long week of swimming and relaxing might do the trick so she could finally put the injury behind her.

Dar checked the global positioning system and the radio, then spent a moment with her eyes closed going over the safety equipment she had on board. She wasn’t paranoid, but this was the first time she was taking the boat across wide-open water and if anyone knew how much respect the sea was due, this sailor’s kid surely did.

Satisfied with her preparations, Dar nodded. Okay. She climbed back down the ladder and dusted off her hands, then spotted motion near the cabin and walked to the side of the boat, peering around the pylon. A tall, husky man in a police uniform was walking toward her, and for a chilling moment she thought about Kerry heading out on the bike. Watching his face intently as the man came closer, she leapt ashore.

“Help you with something?” she asked as he came to a halt.

He had sandy hair and a moderately good-looking face. “Well, maybe.” He glanced at a small notepad. “Would you be a Ms.

Roberts?”

“Yes.” Dar heard her own voice come out clipped and no-nonsense.

It didn’t seem to faze him. He nodded and tucked the notepad away. “Old Bill Vickerson told me I might find you here. Had a little dust-up by his place last night, didn’cha?”

Dar relaxed, confident at least that whatever this was, it didn’t involve Kerry. “Something like that.” She didn’t see much point in Terrors of the High Seas 19

denying it and wondered briefly if her temper had gotten her into something very inconveniently sticky this time. “What’s this all about, Officer…Brewer?”

The police officer studied her. “Fella you whumped up on was my little brother.”

Oh boy. Dar put years of boardroom practice into effect, and merely raised an eyebrow. “And?”

For a minute, Officer Brewer chewed the toothpick he had in his mouth, then he chuckled. “You’re a cool one, aren’t you?” he commented. “City lady like you, here by yourself in the boonies, faced with a cop with a family reason to slap cuffs on ya.”

Dar snorted, chuckling dryly.

Now his eyebrows lifted. “No dice, huh?” He waited a moment, then chuckled as well. “Cool customer, that’s for sure.”

Unexpectedly, he held out a hand. “Ms. Roberts, you done me a good deed, and I wanted to say thanks.”

Knocked a little off balance, Dar nevertheless took the hand and returned the strong grip with one of her own. “I’m not really sure I understand,” she admitted, “but it beats handcuffs.”

The police officer gave her a wry grin. “My brother’s a jackass,” he said straightforwardly. “D’you know what kind of a pain in my butt it is to have to arrest family? I done it six times now. Kid never learns.”

“Ah.” Dar nodded slightly.

“Bunch of his deadbeat friends went looking for trouble up near Big Pine last night, racing and shooting at each other. They ran their asses off the road and wrapped themselves ’round a tree,”

the policeman said. “We took four body bags full of burnt parts to the morgue.”

Dar winced.

“Woulda been five,” Officer Brewer said. “But because my jackass brother was nursing a sore jaw and a lump on his nuts, his sorry ass lived to get me in yet more trouble.” The man sighed. “So, thanks, Ms. City Slicker Computer Big Shot. I owe you one.”

It took a moment to sort out the various sentiments, but Dar eventually decided things had turned out well. “Don’t mention it.”

A rumble caught their attention, and the policeman turned as a motorcycle and rider came right up the side path and practically onto the dock before it rolled to a halt and the rider jumped off.

The cycle came to rest on its kickstand as Kerry pulled off her helmet and strode towards them, her boots sounding loud on the wooden planks.

“Well now,” Officer Brewer studied the oncoming woman,

“what do we got here? You travel with one of them radical, liberal, revolutionary types?”

“What?” Kerry stopped, took off her sunglasses, and regarded 20 Melissa Good him. “I’m a Republican, thank you very much.” She snorted and turned her attention to Dar. “What’s going on?”

Dar gazed fondly at her. “Officer Brewer just stopped by to welcome us to the neighborhood.”

“Oh.” Kerry relaxed and gave the officer one of her more charming smiles. “That’s really nice of you. Thanks.”

Brewster chuckled. “Well, I won’t keep you ladies. Have yourself a nice trip, y’hear?” He turned and walked off the dock, circled the motorcycle, and paused to admire it. Then he kept going down the path and out of sight.

Kerry watched him go, then turned. “Welcome Wagon at seven a.m.?”

Dar put an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s get loaded up and get out of here before the town mothers show up with cookies.”

She walked Kerry over to the bike. “I’ll tell you the rest when we get out of the dock.”

“Uh oh.” Kerry lifted her packages off the vehicle and hefted them. “I’ll get this on board if you want to stash the bike, then we’re outta here.”

Dar poked her finger at a bag. “Are those what I think they are?”

“Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.” Kerry shooed her.

“C’mon. I hear stingrays calling my name.” She made her way down the dock to the boat, hopped on board, and disappeared.

Dar reviewed the start of her day and decided it augured well for a far more peaceful end to it. Good thing, she chuckled to herself, as she pushed the motorcycle into the small garage and securely locked it. Her plans for the evening definitely would not tolerate any interruption.

She checked the doors to the cabin one last time, then set the alarm and walked back to the boat. She released the front line, then the rear one, and tossed them onboard, jumping on as the boat started to drift slightly in the outgoing tide.

The breeze was rising as Dar started up the engines and slowly reversed them away from the harbor, making sure she was well out before she nudged the throttles into forward and swung the bow around, pointing it out toward the endless blue horizon. She settled her bare feet against the console and gave the engines gas, feeling the surge of power as they headed outbound.