Making Waves (10 page)

“Oh, it’ll be great. We’ll paint each other’s toenails and talk about boys and have pillow fights in our underwear.”

Phyllis looked alarmed. “Pillow fights?”

“Or we could play computer games and spot each other when we lift weights,” Juli amended.

Phyllis smiled. “That sounds lovely.”

***

Back in the galley, Alex was helping Cody with the dishes while Jake steered the boat and muttered under his breath about spies and cops.

“I like Juli,” Cody said. “I don’t care what you guys say. I think she’s nice.”

Alex toweled off a plate and sighed. “No one’s saying she’s not nice. We’re just saying we don’t trust her. Not completely, anyway.”

“I still think we should throw her overboard,” Jake muttered.

“We’re not throwing her overboard.” Alex draped the towel over a hook and leaned back against a cupboard. Beside him, Cody began wiping down the counter. He picked up Uncle Frank’s urn and set it gently next to Alex.

Alex studied the ugly bronze façade, hoping like hell his final resting place would be someplace slightly less hideous. He turned it around, a little disturbed to realize some of the dolphins were copulating. “Anyone else think it’s odd how she lugs the urn around with her everywhere?”

“No,” Cody said. “I think it’s sweet. She said Uncle Frank liked being on boats, so she wants him to experience the whole trip.”

“Right,” Alex said, and picked up the urn. It was ridiculously heavy, though he had no idea how much urns and cremated remains normally weighed. “Have you looked inside?”

Cody gaped at him. “Of course not! Why would we do that?”

Alex shrugged. “Maybe she’s lying. Maybe there isn’t a cremated body in here at all.”

Jake turned, his eyes wide and frenzied. “Yeah. Open it! Maybe she’s transporting weapons of mass destruction.”

“What the hell kind of weapon would fit in an urn?”

“Drugs then,” Jake growled. “Heroin or cocaine or something.”

Alex pondered that. “I’m not sure I’d be able to tell the difference between heroin and cremated remains.”

“Open it!” Jake snapped again. “Hurry, before she comes back.”

Cody reached over and snatched the urn from Alex’s grasp. “No! That’s rude. I’m taking this back to Juli right now and I don’t want to hear another word from either of you about disrespecting her poor dead uncle.”

Alex watched Cody march away with the urn held reverently between his meaty palms. He sighed and picked up the dish towel again.

Behind him, Jake went back to muttering. “Damn woman’s going to ruin us.”

“Probably,” Alex said, and tried not to look forward to it.

The next morning, Juli made it her mission to talk to Jake alone. Regardless of whether she really had the expertise to help Phyllis with her love life woes, she was damn well going to try.

It wasn’t hard finding Jake by himself. Alex was napping after a long shift at the helm, Cody was busy preparing a rotisserie lamb shank for dinner, and Phyllis was in the middle of her sixty-fourth set of crunches with at least two-dozen more sets to go.

That left plenty of time for conversation while Jake steered the boat from the flybridge.

“So, Jake,” Juli said, trying to look casual as she leaned against the railing. Instead, she looked down at the ocean and felt queasy.

She stepped back and moved toward the deck chair, lowering herself onto the padded seat. She felt a puddle of water sink through her shorts and sighed. Things weren’t off to a very good start.

Steeling herself, she looked up at Jake, who was scowling at the ocean. Or maybe scowling at her; it was tough to tell.

“Phyllis tells me you’re an excellent bowler,” she said. “That’s great. I like to bowl sometimes.”

“Yeah?” he muttered. “They teach you that in spy school?”

“No, I knew how to bowl before spy school. They did teach me how to kill someone with a bowling pin, though.”

Jake looked at her over his shoulder. She couldn’t tell if he was trying not to smile or trying to decide if she was serious.

“Anyway,” she said, “it sounds like you guys have all known each other awhile. You and Alex and Phyllis and Cody? That’s really great. Long-term friendships are important.”

“So?”

“Just wondering if there’s ever been any—I don’t know.
Romantic tension
in the group? You know how those things sometimes happen?”

Jake looked startled. He stared at her, his frown deepening.

“I don’t think we should be talking about this,” he said.

Julie widened her eyes and feigned innocence. “Talking about what?”

“A man’s personal business is his own and no one else’s,” Jake snapped.

“Absolutely.”

“And it’s not your place to judge.”

“Well, of course not.”

“And if Alex and Cody want to go see
Brokeback Mountain
together, that doesn’t mean anything at all.”

“Oh,” Juli said, confused. This wasn’t going the way she had hoped. Regrouping, she tried another tack.

“So Phyllis is sure pretty,” Juli tried.

“Phyllis?” Jake eyed her with deep suspicion. “Yeah. She is. Real pretty.”

“What a great figure for a woman her age! What is she—forty-seven, forty-eight?”

“She’s fifty-four,” Jake growled, though the flush in his cheeks gave Juli a little hope she was making progress.

“Wow!” she said. “Fifty-four? She doesn’t look it. That’s great!”

Jake scowled. “I don’t think she swings that way.”

“No, Jake—that’s not what I was getting at.”

Jake frowned, looking her up and down. “Is that what this is about? Are you one of those groupies looking to score with a famous former steeplechase record holder and go tell the tabloids all about it? Because I’ve got to tell you, that’s not okay with me, lady. And I’m pretty sure it’s not okay with Phyllis.”

“No, Jake, that’s not what I meant—”

“And even if she did swing that way—which she doesn’t—and even if you were her type—which you aren’t—I really don’t think she’d let me watch anyway, so—”

“Uh—no,” Juli interrupted. “No, Jake. That’s not what this is about. And really, I’m not sure the tabloids would be interested in—”

“What, the steeplechase isn’t glamorous enough for you? Her record stood for twenty-six years—
twenty-six years!
And it’s, like, the hardest track-and-field event there is. Three thousand meters with water pits and jumps and stuff. That’s not good enough for you?”

Juli gritted her teeth and wondered if she should just throw herself overboard to get it over with. “Jake, really—I’m not after Phyllis. And I have the utmost respect for the sport of steeplechasing. Really, I do.”

Jake stared at her for a minute, assessing. “You promise?”

“I swear.”

Jake looked relieved. “So you’re just a spy.”

Juli sighed. “Good talk, Jake,” she said, standing up and heading for the stairs. “Good talk.”

***

They had been out on the ocean now for a little more than twenty-four hours. Alex glanced at his watch, amazed to realize they were a quarter of the way into their carefully plotted timeline to reach Portelli’s ship. The details of the boarding were swirling in his brain, fighting for space with the images of Juli in her bikini top.

Dammit all.

Phyllis had spent the last couple hours hunched over her laptop, trying to get an Internet connection. Inexplicably, the system had been down for almost twenty-four hours, and the pirates were growing restless.

“Maybe there’s a weather system somewhere that’s impacting the signal?” Alex suggested as Phyllis retreated below deck muttering something about urges.

“Maybe the spy we’re transporting has figured out a way to crash the Internet,” Jake grumbled. “I still say her name sounds really familiar. And I swear I’ve seen her on TV.
America’s Most Wanted
or something.”

Only Cody seemed not to care. “Would anyone like a crumpet with some lemon curd and clotted cream?” he asked.

Alex focused on keeping their course, fighting a hefty wave slap that wanted to push them sideways. He was driving from the helm on the flybridge, which gave him a wider view and the fresh air he craved. But the shelf clouds on the horizon were making him edgy. The wind had kicked up to fifteen knots in the last couple minutes. He glanced at the radar, not particularly liking what he saw.

Alex was fiddling with the instrument panel when Juli sidled up to him.

“Cody loaned me Battleship,” she announced, parking herself in a deck chair beside him. “I tried to get Jake to play with me, but he’s being a sore loser after I beat him earlier this morning. And Phyllis is busy doing bicep curls with the anchor. And Cody is making the maple glaze for his cider-brined pork ribs. Wanna play?”

Alex stared at her. “I’m kind of busy right now,” he said. “This big thing we’re on? Someone has to keep it moving through the water.”

Juli rolled her eyes and glanced at her watch. “I know that, smartass. Doesn’t your shift end in fifteen minutes? That’s what Jake told me earlier.”

Alex nodded toward the horizon. “See those flat-looking clouds out there?”

Juli followed the direction of his finger. He saw her frown as she nodded.

“That means the wind is going to start kicking up in about ten minutes,” he said. “I’ll feel better if I keep the wheel for a while longer.”

From the corner of his eye, Alex saw Juli go pale.

“A storm?” she asked. It was obvious she was making an effort to keep her tone light, but was failing miserably.

“A squall.”

“Isn’t that a fancy way of saying ‘storm’?”

“Squalls are usually over fast. Storms can last awhile.”

“Based on that description, I think my last boyfriend was a squall.”

Alex looked at her again. She was cracking jokes, trying to keep things light, but her expression was anything but casual. She was scared shitless. He felt her shiver beside him and resisted the urge to put an arm around her.

“You have rain gear?” he asked.

“I grew up in Oregon. We wear rain gear to bed.”

“Might want to grab it. Go put that urn someplace safe while you’re at it, unless you want it getting tossed around.”

Juli frowned down at the ugly hunk of metal in her lap, and Alex wondered again what the hell was inside. Probably just a bunch of powdered bones. He was being paranoid, like always.

“Okay,” Juli said, her voice a little strained. “Should I stay down below or come back up here?”

“Come back up,” Alex said. “The water’s getting choppy and the waves are breaking in a couple different directions. These rolling swells drop the stern like sort of a slow-motion roller coaster. Not good for seasick travelers. If you don’t mind getting a bit wet, you’ll do better up here.”

“Oh.”

At a loss for any smartass comments, and looking much greener than she had two minutes earlier, Juli disappeared down the stairs without another word.

“Can you let the others know too?” Alex called over his shoulder.

“Let the others know what?” Jake asked as he dropped into the deck chair Juli had just vacated. “And why is your wife looking green again?”

Alex nodded toward the clouds. “Weather coming.”

Jake looked out at the ocean and sat up straight in his chair. “Oh. Shit. Just in time for my shift.”

“It’s fine, I’ve got it. We haven’t had a chance to see how this tub handles in a squall. I’d like to get a feel for things, if that’s all right with you.”

“Sure, no problem. Can I help?”

“You could close up the hatches, put away anything that could fly around if things get really rough.”

“Got it,” Jake said. He stood and picked up one of the deck chairs. He folded it carefully before grabbing another and stacking it atop the first one.

Alex studied him from the corner of his eye. “So what’s going on with Phyllis?”

“Phyllis?”

“The angry blonde woman traveling with us? I believe you’ve met before.”

Jake suddenly seemed very interested in scratching a spot of goat cheese on his shirt. “What do you mean?”

“It just seems like maybe something’s happening with the two of you.”

“Happening?”

“Are you just going to repeat everything I say? Because if you are, I’m going to make you pledge to stop using my utility scissors to trim your ear hair.”

Jake stopped scratching the cheese spot and shrugged. “I like Phyllis.”

“Like?”

“Now you’re doing it.”

Alex sighed. “There’s a reason men don’t have these conversations.”

“What conversations?”

“About women. And feelings. About relationships.”

“We’re having a conversation about feelings?”

Alex sighed. “You seen Porsche’s new 918 Spyder?”

“Yeah, a two-hundred-mile-an-hour fucking hybrid that gets seventy-eight miles per gallon. Nice! So who do you like in the Pac-10 this year?”

***

All around Juli, the crew seemed to be focused on keeping the boat afloat. Not that there was any risk it
wouldn’t
float, Alex had assured her. Even so, Juli was fighting hard to squelch the butterflies in her stomach.

Not to mention the curried prawn and fennel salad that still hadn’t decided whether or not to stay down for good.

“You doing okay, Juli?” Alex called over his shoulder.

“Fine. Thank you.”

“Those wristbands helping?”

“I think so.”

“How about the rest of you—Jake, Phyllis, Cody?” Alex said. “You sure you want to stay up here? It’s probably going to get pretty windy.”

“I want a good view of the squall,” Jake said.

“Me too,” Phyllis agreed. “We can always head down if it gets really bad.”

Juli nibbled another piece of ginger and watched them work. Cody lurched through the doorway as a wave hit them from the side. He regained his balance and tucked his beloved spatula in his apron pocket before moving through the group to pass out personal flotation devices. Satisfied everyone knew how to use the devices, he went to the helm to stand beside Alex. A gust of wind blasted them from the side, plastering Cody’s wet apron against Alex’s leg.

Jake and Phyllis were putting away the rest of the deck chairs, so careful not to touch each other that Juli wanted to give them a hard shove so they’d end up wrapped around one another on the floor. Not that she had any desire to see that, but cultivating romance between Jake and Phyllis was proving more difficult than trying not to stare at Alex’s butt as he steered the ship.

Even so, she was up to the task. Both tasks.

Juli snuggled deeper into her windbreaker and squinted against the misty raindrops that had started to splatter against the deck. The boat was certainly rocking harder than it had, and the waves were definitely bigger, but the crew seemed to have everything under control.

“You sure I can’t do anything useful?” she called for the hundredth time.

“We’re good,” Alex yelled back. “Keep your eyes straight ahead and breathe deeply.”

“Okay. But let me know if I can help.”

“Just don’t puke.”

“Got it. I can do that. I think.”

Cody turned to look at her, his face etched with concern. Suddenly, a gust of wind snatched the spatula from his apron pocket. Juli watched as it hurtled end over end, flying through the air in slow motion, headed straight for Jake’s skull.

“Jake, duck!” Juli screamed.

Too late.

There was a loud
thwack
—the sound of sharp metal connecting with Jake’s shiny pink forehead.

Juli was on her feet in an instant.

“Sit! Now, Jake—sit down.”

Juli grabbed his shoulder while the others gawked. Before anyone could ask what she was doing, she pushed him down onto the deck and knelt in front of him. Grasping his hand, she yanked it away from his forehead.

“Let me see it!”

Like an obedient dog, Jake pulled his paw back. Juli sucked in a breath as she saw the blood well up through a two-inch gash just above his right eye. The cut was ugly, fringed with ragged bits of skin, and it was bleeding hard.

“Phyllis, give me your bandana,” Juli ordered.

Visibly startled, Phyllis pulled the bandana off her head and handed it over. Juli folded it into a square that she pressed hard against the gash.

“Hold this here,” she told Jake, moving his fingers into place and demonstrating the pressure she needed him to apply. “Are you dizzy?”

He tried to peer around the yellow bandana. “The ground is moving.”

“You’re on a boat. The ground is supposed to be moving. Do you feel dizzy or light-headed? Is your vision blurry?”

“No. No, I don’t think so.”

“How about your neck? Does it hurt anywhere?”

“No.”

Juli got to her feet and glanced at Alex. He was alternating between staring at the ocean and staring at her with visible disbelief. His hair was plastered wet against his scalp as the rain pelted down around them. Juli braced herself against a sudden gust of wind and turned to Phyllis.