Night Diver: A Novel (24 page)

“The sea, she whispers to her men,” the bartender said. “Smart ones listen.”

“Thanks, anyway,” she said, pushing some money toward him.

“Drink?”

She realized she was thirsty. “Have any iced tea?”

He reached below the bar, came up with a pitcher beaded with cold drops of water, and poured her a glass.

“Thank you,” she said, pulling more money from her shorts pocket.

He shook his head in gentle refusal of the cash and went down the bar where a patron had knocked his knuckles on the wood, signaling he wanted another round.

Kate sipped her tea and enjoyed being out of the hazy heat and humidity of the day.

Behind her the entrance door opened and closed. The fact that nobody hollered a greeting told her that whoever had come in wasn’t a regular. She took a final long drink of tea, stood, turned around—and almost stepped on Holden Cameron.

“Hi,” she said. “I was just going to go back to the cottage after I picked up dinner.”

He hesitated, seeming to choose his words carefully. “What in bloody hell are you doing trolling dives in the wrong section of town?”

She blinked. “It isn’t dark yet. I was looking for information about Mingo and any divers who wanted to work.”

“Not dark yet,” he repeated, looking like a man trying something’s taste and finding it unpleasant. “Did you know that men don’t need darkness to want to shag a pretty woman, and bugger whether she’s willing or not?”

Kate realized that underneath his calm exterior, Holden was furious. “Let’s talk outside,” she said.

“Bloody good idea.”

She waved good-bye to the bartender. “Thanks again.”

The bartender smiled at both of them. “You ever looking for a third, I’m your man. Ask anyone. They tell you I’m amazing.”

“Er, thanks,” she said. The open sexuality of the islands was something she hadn’t quite gotten used to, much less all the variations on the theme of sex.

Ruthlessly Holden herded her to the exit. She ducked her head, knowing her cheeks were on fire.

“Any more sewers on your to-do list?” Holden asked.

“I thought it was a gay bar. Safe enough.”

“Some men shag both ways.”

“I’m shocked,” she said. “Tell me you’re not one of them.”

He gave her a sideways look. “Cocky, aren’t you?”

“I leave all things cocky to you.”

He laughed in spite of his earlier fear for her, fear that had flared into anger the instant he saw her in what was obviously a locals-only dive. “Cheeky, then.”

“So I’m told.” Then, more seriously, she said, “If it helps, I was prepared to run. If that didn’t work, the men in my family taught me some dirty tricks when I began growing breasts.”

“Eyes, nose, throat, and balls?”

“Among others.”

“Ever used them?” Holden asked.

“A few dates thought that dinner included a blow job and insisted on collecting what I ‘owed’ before taking me home.”

He winced. “How old were you?”

“Eighteen. I learned fast how to be a better judge of whether a man wanted a date with the hope of sex or just expected sex for the price of a hamburger and fries.”

“You’ll have to show me what you know.”

“Why? Are you into pain?”

Holden laughed again and realized that he had done more laughing with Kate than he had with anyone except the munchkins who crawled all over him when he visited family. She was far from a child, but she relaxed him just the same. Made him hard, too. An excellent side benefit.

By silent consent, they walked toward a nearby open-air market. They didn’t talk about the problems plaguing the dive, or Mingo, or anything about business, including Kate’s latest attempts to find divers willing to work for her family. Instead, they simply strolled through the market stalls that were still open and argued amiably over whether to buy a whole chicken or some wicked-looking blackened chicken pieces, or to settle for fresh eggs and whichever vegetables went best with spicy rice.

While he bargained over the price of chicken and if the shrimp really had come off the boat this afternoon, she selected fruit and piled it on the merchant’s table. When she spotted the only remaining loaf of bread from a local French bakery, she pounced on it and carried off her prize to the counter.

By the time the sun was sliding into the ocean, they had walked to the marina, where the truck waited like an oven left to preheat. In minutes they were bumping down the ruts to the cottage. Kate was disappointed when she saw Farnsworth’s racy little speedboat tied off on the dock. He was stowing something aboard and didn’t notice them at first.

“Well, it was nice while it lasted,” she said.

“Perhaps he’ll already have eaten supper.”

She smiled, glad that she wasn’t the only one who had been looking forward to another meal alone with Holden.

“Maybe he has news,” she said.

Holden simply carried the food inside.

When Farnsworth emerged from the cockpit of his boat, he was as surprised to see them as they had been to discover the speedboat.

“I didn’t think anyone was here,” he said to Kate. “Where’s the workboat?”

“Tied up at the marina.”

He looked puzzled.

“Long story short,” Holden said as he reappeared, “Kate took some crew ashore, Larry dropped me later at the fuel dock, and I helped Kate look for Mingo.”

“We didn’t find him,” she added.

Glancing at his watch, Farnsworth frowned. “Did you try the Buddy Bar? I heard Luis and Mingo talking about it a few times when I was listening in the dive center during their decompression stages.”

Holden looked at Kate. She pulled the rumpled map from her shorts pocket and smoothed the paper flat against her thigh.

“It was on my list, but I didn’t get there,” she said, carefully not looking at Holden.

“Just as well,” Farnsworth said. “It’s not the kind of place I’d want my sister popping into for a pint.” He grabbed a few pieces of fresh fruit. “I’m heading back to the warehouse after I leave my laundry off with my friend. Unless you need something from me here?”

“No,” Holden and Kate said simultaneously.

Then she added, “I’m going to check out the Buddy Bar before it gets into the wild hours. Can I drop you somewhere in town?”

“Are you going with her?” Farnsworth asked Holden.

“Count on it.”

“Would you like any help?”

“Thank you, but no,” Holden said. “Kind of you to offer.” Especially when the other man hardly looked the type to seek out a brawl.

Farnsworth nodded. “Then I’ll be off. Unless something comes up at the warehouse, I’ll see you just after dawn on the
Golden Bough
.”

Kate hurried to the bedroom to change into long pants and a bright, long-sleeved shirt. The steadily increasing breeze was almost cool. When she found Holden, he was finishing off what looked like a blackened chicken sandwich.

“Just a bit to hold me until supper—dinner,” he said. “Ready?”

She grabbed a few of the tiny, sweet bananas that had been part of their purchases earlier. “Ready.”

Holden fed her bites of banana while she drove the familiar road to town. When the trees gave way to buildings and lights, she thought again how different everything looked after dark. The tourist centers at the beach had colorful crowds out to enjoy the carefully sanitized nightlife that catered to outsiders with money. Beyond that shoreline strip, the small shops and markets were shuttered. The dark patches came more often, and when there were lights, they tended to be neon liquor signs flickering in bar windows.

Though Buddy Bar was only four streets up off the industrial area of the beach, and a block over from McNamara’s, the bar looked like a down-and-dirty dive where men went to brawl as often as to drink. Kate would have hesitated to go during daylight. Even with company, she wasn’t exactly eager.

“Okay. Glad you’re here,” she said.

“Why don’t you wait in the truck?”

“If Mingo is in there, he’ll talk to me quicker than he will talk to you.”

“Right. Good job you covered up those sexy legs,” Holden said. “Stay behind me. If the place is too rank, neither one of us is going two steps from the front door.”

She didn’t argue.

Smoke and music from speakers poured out as Holden opened the door. He scanned the place hard and fast and decided that the atmosphere was rough but not vicious. As an ABCD, he’d seen some really savage bars. This wasn’t one of them.

“Stay close to me,” he said quietly to Kate.

“The corner on the left,” she said, tiptoeing to reach his ear. “Isn’t that Luis?”

“Yes. And Raul.”

The two men were playing dominoes at a table as gloomy as their faces. When Holden saw what they were drinking, he signaled the bartender for another round. Experience had taught him that a paying customer was much more welcome than a stranger who kept his money in his pocket.

Holden carried the two beers over and set one in front of each man while Kate slid into one of the two empty seats.

“Thanks,” Luis said.

He didn’t smile, but no one took it personally. He and Raul looked like they were at a wake rather than a party. As Luis shifted to study his dominoes, the wrapped hilt of his dive knife knocked against the chair.

Kate was surprised by the knife.

Holden wasn’t.

Luis matched a five with a five on a free domino and waited for Raul to make a move.

A tear slid down Raul’s cheek.

Both men ignored it.

When Kate would have said something to Raul, Holden’s hand clamped around her thigh in silent warning.

“What did the clinic tell you about your cut?” Holden asked Luis, looking at the already grimy wrapping around the diver’s left palm.

He shrugged. “It heal. No dive for maybe few days. By then, the weather be good and the bottom clear.”

By then, there will be no dive,
Kate thought grimly.

Raul stared at his dominoes like they were quadratic equations. He was drunk, yes, but it was more than that. He had the shocky look that Holden had seen during covert skirmishes when a fellow soldier had been killed and the survivors were trying to accept it.

“You can rake the siphon barrel if you want,” Holden said. “You don’t have to dive.”

Luis just waited for Raul to play.

Holden removed his hand from Kate’s thigh.

“Are you okay, Raul?” she asked. “Everyone on the boat was worried about you.”

A man who had been drinking at a nearby table leaned back and winked at Kate. “Don’ worry about that one. He be dumped by his boyfriend. You come to Evgeni,” he added, pointing at himself.

“That’s very kind, but I have the only man I want,” she said, putting her hand on Holden’s thigh. It was like petting steel cables. “Are you looking for dive work?”

Evgeni looked Holden over and apparently decided that the pretty redhead wasn’t worth a brawl. He saluted Holden with what looked like a glass of black rum and went back to drinking alone.

“Raul,” Kate said softly. “What’s wrong?”

Tears welled up in the man’s huge brown eyes and his lips curled down. “Mingo,” he managed hoarsely. “Gone.” He pushed his dominoes faceup, ending the game in a black scatter of tiles. “Gone!”

“Have you been lovers long?” Holden asked calmly.

Raul started to cry.

“Years,” Luis said. “Mingo like women, but he always come back to Raul. Eat the soup I bought for you.”

As he spoke, Luis pushed a bowl of callaloo closer, sending the chunks of green leaves floating in the broth into erratic flutters. Raul lifted a battered spoon and poked at the soup without interest.

“Where do you think your brother is?” Holden asked.

“Maybe look for a boat of his own,” Luis said. “He talk big. Want his own business. He say Raul be cook, because he is better in the galley than breathing trimix, and I be his first diver.”

“Mingo must have been saving money for a long time,” Kate said.
God knows he wasn’t earning boat payments on the wages we paid him.

Raul smiled sadly. “Mingo is lover, not banker. No good with money. But he tell me it change soon. Big money come. Then he buy a boat and . . .” Raul’s voice died.

“Did Mingo talk to you about this?” Holden asked Luis.

“He always talk, but not about his big money. He just say he be rich before the next storm.”

“Was he selling goods on the side?” Holden asked, his voice matter-of-fact.

Raul and Luis exchanged a look. Then Raul turned back to stirring the soup that was the temperature of his tears.

Kate’s fists were balled in her lap, but her voice was soothing when she spoke. “I won’t go running to the cops. I just want to know.”

“I don’t know,” Luis said in a low voice. “But he talk big.”

“He always talk big,” Raul said.