Kerry cocked her head to one side. “Not with you,” she said.
“C’mon, c’mon.”
Dar got out of her suit and toweled herself off, then sat down on the bed next to Kerry. “You know we’ve got guests outside,” she reminded her lover wryly.
“Yes, I know.” Kerry sighed and rolled over, laying her head on Dar’s thigh. “But when I fell over in the ship, I got something stuck in the back of my neck. It’s sharp, and I can’t reach it, and it’s driving me crazy.”
Dar blinked. “Oh.” She stifled a tiny laugh. “Hang on.” She gently probed the soft skin on Kerry’s back, seeing a red spot near the base of her skull.
“Mm.” Kerry exhaled. “You’re nice and warm, Dar. How did you do that so fast?”
“Sweetheart,” Dar murmured, her eyes on her task, “you’re lying here in front of me naked. If I was even slightly chilly, we’d have a problem.” Kerry’s low, rich laugh surprised both of them.
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“Ah. Got it.” Dar gently grasped the metal splinter and eased it out of Kerry’s skin. A tiny bead of blood followed, and she pressed the spot carefully, squeezing out a little more to make sure she’d gotten everything out. “Bad boat. Sticking my Kerry.” She felt Kerry exhale, a flutter of warm breath along her thigh. “Better?”
“Much. Thanks,” Kerry said as she rolled over onto her back.
She rubbed her hand along Dar’s leg and gazed up at her with deep affection. “And thank you for being there, and for knowing what to do today.”
Dar disposed of the sliver and eased down next to Kerry.
“Thank Dad. He beat dive safety into me within an inch of my life.”
She put her hand on Kerry’s knee. “Are you okay? I know that was scary.”
Kerry nodded. “I’m okay,” she said. “I was kind of nervous when it was happening, because going to the surface fast wasn’t something I really wanted to do, to risk.”
“No,” Dar murmured. “Lousy place to risk a case of the bends,”
she admitted. “I had a mild hit once, and it’s not something I ever want to repeat.” She flexed her hand in front of her face. “Lost feeling in my arm for a week.”
Kerry eased over and curled up against Dar. “I thought about my father,” she said softly. “About what that must have felt like.”
She drew a deep breath. “Yeah, I was scared.”
Dar put her arms around Kerry’s body. “I wouldn’t let anything like that happen to you,” she assured her. “Believe that, Ker. It’s my job to keep you safe down there.”
Kerry felt herself cradled in Dar’s embrace, her body now warmed through and through as the lingering fears evaporated. “I believe it,” she whispered. “I know I’m safe with you.”
They rocked together in silence for a few minutes, listening to the engines rumble to life and the anchor retract.
“Do we have anything to give DeSalliers, Dar?”
“A little.”
“Enough?”
“I don’t know,” Dar said. “I just don’t know.”
THE WEATHER WAS getting worse. Kerry held on to the edge of the door as she waited for the boat to steady, then continued toward the couch. Dar was already sitting on it, her laptop in front of her and a stack of disorderly papers scattered over the table. Bob held several, his brow creased as he looked at them. “Anything?”
Kerry asked, taking the spot right next to Dar on the couch.
“A lot of crap.” Dar sighed. She nudged the bit of wood Kerry had brought up with her knee. They had scraped off enough sea life to reveal three letters of a name, but the possible permutations of
“RTE” in the middle of a word were… “This list is endless,” she handed it to Kerry, “even parsing it down to marine related companies and terms.”
Kerry took the page. “It could even be an abbreviation for route,” she agreed mournfully. “This is worse than looking for a needle in a haystack.”
Dar sat back and let her hands fall to her thighs. “We’ve got pieces, but we’ve got no idea what the puzzle looks like,” she grumbled. “We know one thing for sure—he wasn’t here fishing.”
“Okay, and if he had an assault rifle on board, he probably wasn’t running a sightseeing charter,” Kerry added. “He had supplies on board for a long trip, which makes sense, since he was pretty far from home port.”
“Right.” Dar got up and paced, her body automatically compensating for the roll of the boat. Suddenly she stopped. “Ker, did you take any pictures inside the hold when we were down the first time?”
Kerry’s brow creased in thought. “It was pretty dim in there. I don’t think I would have,” she told her partner apologetically.
“Besides, we were too busy trying to get underneath those…those…
What were those metal things we found the eel behind anyway, Dar?”
Upside down and tilted sideways, the wreckage hadn’t been that intelligible to Dar either. Her mind drew a picture of the huge pile of twisted metal that she’d edged behind. She remembered 284
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reaching out to try and move it, and her hands had closed around something roundish, and relatively smooth… “Cages.” The word came out of Dar’s mouth unexpectedly. “They were cages, with bars.”
Bob and Kerry both stared at her. “Cages?” Kerry repeated thoughtfully. “Wait… Yeah, they were. One of the doors was open and I was lying on top of it.” She nodded. “The hinge was poking me in the ribs.” Her voice rose in excitement. “You’re right, Dar!”
“Cages?” Bob looked extremely puzzled. “For what? People?”
Dar slowly shook her head. “No. Too small.” Her brow contracted. “Must have been for animals. They were spread out all over the hold, just in pieces everywhere.”
Now Kerry looked slightly confused. “I don’t get it. Why would he be trying to get animals into the islands? Or…” Her eyes widened. “No, he was trying to take them from here, wasn’t he!”
Dar nodded slowly, feeling a mixed sense of elation and disgust. “They’re a commodity,” she told Kerry bluntly. “In some places, the black market for them is huge.”
“Like for zoos?” Bob asked. “I thought they could pretty much breed their own.”
“No.” The tall, dark-haired woman exhaled. “Well, yes, there are some places that’ll pay for exhibit animals, sure, but mostly the market is for…ah…”
“Parts,” Kerry murmured. “Skin, fur…”
“Even more for traditional folk medicine,” Dar confirmed quietly. “It’s big money. Alastair did an analysis of emerging markets two years ago, and I think even he was shocked. One of our far eastern offices was contacted to provide database services and processing for a company that acts as a clearing house for the legal stuff.”
Kerry stared at Dar.
“He rejected the contract.” Dar gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. “He told me his mother would spank him raw if she ever heard he’d helped poachers.” She pulled the wood over and studied it. “Okay, now we’ve got something to go on. Ker, do a search on these letters, only hit veterinary databases instead of marine.”
“Right you are, boss.” Kerry assumed the laptop and commenced typing. “They’re gonna faint at the cell bill this month,” she commented. “You’ll get another set of tickets to the Super Bowl from Bell South. Maybe this year we can go.”
Dar turned the wood over in her fingers, examining it carefully.
It seemed likely it was from a supply crate. She could see the faint indentations where metal strapping might have held it in place.
“So I guess he wasn’t really nuts, huh?” Bob said suddenly.
“Crazy like a fox,” Dar murmured, tipping the wood to the light.
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“Holy Jesus. That means we’ve won. I’ve gotta call Tanya.” He stood up and ran a hand through his hair. “We really did it.”
“We?” Kerry said under her breath. “Not so fast. We haven’t proven anything. All we’ve got is a reasonable theory,” she added in a more audible tone. “Oh. Dar, look.” Kerry pointed at the screen, which showed a list of responses to her request.
“Carter International.” Dar exhaled. “Zoological supplies.
What’s the odds?” She tapped the wood on her knee. “All right. It’s a theory. We’ve got the M16, this bit of wood, our memories of the hold full of cages, and a fishing boat without any fishing gear on it.” “And the cigar box,” Kerry reminded her. “Not that it’s relevant, or even able to be opened.” She pushed the laptop aside and got up, heading for the gear room. The boat rolled and she put her hand on the wall for balance, then continued.
Charlie’s voice crackled through the radio. “Hey, Dar?”
Dar set the wood down and headed over to the console. She keyed the mic and answered. “Yeah? What’s up? I think we’ve got something here, Charlie.”
“Waal, I think we’ve got something here. You might want to come up a minute,” Charlie said. “We might have company.”
Crap
. Dar leaned her head against the doorjamb. “Okay. I’ll be right up,” she answered, tossing the mic down in a mild fit of frustration. “Damn it! Can’t anything ever go like it’s supposed to?”
“What’s that?” Kerry returned, carrying her box. “What’s going on?”
Dar turned and faced her. “Charlie thinks someone’s following us. I’m gonna go check it out.” She waited while Kerry continued walking towards her, tilting her head as her partner ended up at her side. “Maybe it’s just someone out late doing some night fishing.”
“Maybe cats put on jackets and do the tango.” Kerry set the box down on the console and dusted off her hands. “I’ll go with you.”
“Me too,” Bob agreed.
Dar sighed. She picked up the box and examined it. “This’ll take time to pry open, Ker. It’s completely encrusted.” She glanced at Bob, who was peering curiously over her shoulder.
“It’s just an old cigar box,” he said, sounding disappointed.
Dar put the box down. “Yeah.” She opened the door, jerking a little as a gust of fitful wind puffed against her and blew her hair back off her forehead. “Time for that later.” She edged outside, shading her eyes against the boat’s running lights and spotting the whitecaps riffling around them. “Damn.”
“Got nasty fast,” Kerry observed. “Is it that storm system?”
Dar pulled herself along the cabinet over to the ladder. “I don’t 286
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think it was moving that fast. Maybe this is just a thunderstorm.”
She reached up and caught an upper rung, and started her upward climb. The pitching of the boat threw her slightly from side to side, but she got to the top and caught her balance. “Charlie.”
The big ex-sailor turned from his seat at the controls.
“Weather’s up,” he said. “Looks like a squall.”
“No kidding.” Dar grabbed the edge of the bridge railing and got behind the wheel. She felt Kerry thump against the back of her seat, and then the pressure of a hand on the back of her neck.
“Where’s the signal?”
“Here.” Charlie pointed to the radar. Amid the clutter of the storm, a small, pulsing green blip emerged some distance away from them. “Could just be a false. Not getting much closer in the last bit.”
“Not with our luck.” Dar studied the dot. It didn’t seem to be moving quickly, just meandering after them, keeping about an even distance from the
Dixie
. “You think it’s DeSalliers?”
Charlie shook his head. “Too little.”
“Pirates?” Kerry suggested
“Not in this weather. They ain’t that stupid.”
Kerry leaned in next to Dar. “Maybe they changed their minds about helping you out.”
Charlie snorted. “Anyhoo, we got three more hours of this before we get to the meet point. Weather’s getting worse. You want to pull in somewhere ’til it clears a little?”
Dar lifted her eyes and peered off into the darkness. The wind whipped her hair back, and a crack of far off lightning illuminated a bank of heavy clouds ahead of them. “You think it’ll clear?”
The big man shrugged. “Depends. Might just be a squall,” he said.
“Or an outer band,” Dar replied dryly. “How far are we from the spot?”
“Hour,” Charlie said. “Got a small atoll five, ten minutes from here we could anchor by. Give our snoopy friend a chance to get out of our hair.”
“All right,” Dar said. “Once we’re anchored, you can go take a look at what we found out. See if it makes any sense to you.”
Charlie nodded and turned the boat into the wind, nudging the throttles forward as the waves rocked them from side to side.
KERRY WASN’T A happy person. She leaned her elbows on the counter and studied her hands, regarding the tiny lines on the back of her thumbs as she tried not to chuck up her guts.
It isn’t fair
, she moaned silently.
What is it about the Caribbean that brings on
seasickness in me?
She’d sailed in the Great Lakes in waves higher
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than these and it hadn’t bothered her a bit.
“You okay?”
Kerry turned her head to find Dar standing next to her. “Um.”
She held her breath as the boat rolled in the surf. “Sorta.”
“Sweetheart,” Dar affectionately ran her fingers through Kerry’s hair, “you’re greener than your eyes. Want something for that?”
“Do you have something?” Kerry asked hopefully. “It wasn’t so bad when we were moving.” They’d been at anchor for twenty minutes. Charlie was studying the clues they’d found, and Bob had retreated to the chair near the door.
“No, it wouldn’t be.” Dar fished up in the cabinet over the refrigerator. She retrieved a small box, then leaned against the wall for balance as she ripped it open. “It’s the wallowing.”
Kerry closed her eyes. “Don’t say that word again.”
Dar popped open the foil on two of the tablets and set the box down, turning to retrieve a cup and fill it with water. “Here.” She handed Kerry the pills. “Dramamine.”
Kerry took the pills and the water and made quick work of swallowing them. She set down the cup and sighed. “Got anything else? Any old folk remedies you want to try?”
Dar cocked her head to one side, then with a tiny smirk, she leaned over and captured Kerry’s earlobe between her teeth and nibbled at it gently.
“Orf…bu...Dar!” Kerry squeaked very softly, her eyes widening as she lurched up toward their guests. The attention was causing tiny, interesting jolts to travel down her body, however, warring effectively against the panic.