by Melissa Good
“Captain.” Dar inclined her head. “Mind if I ask you a question?”
“No, ma’am, go ahead,” the officer responded. “What can I do for you?”
Dar collected her thoughts a moment. “We were out in the storm last night,” she began.
“And it was a rough one,” the captain commented. “We were out there ourselves. I trust you got in safely?”
Dar nodded. “Yes. But we radioed in a distress call for a boat we saw out there. I was wondering if you were the ones we talked to, and what happened.”
The man cocked his head to one side. “We had quite a few calls,” he said with an apologetic grin. “What time was it?”
“Late. Eleven, maybe. Out to the southeast of here.” Dar’s eyes flicked to the man’s nametag, then back to his face.
“Ah,” the captain murmured. “Yes, I remember the call. Tell you what, let’s go check the logs.” He turned and led the way back up the ramp with Dar at his heels. “I don’t want to give you the wrong information.”
As she followed the captain on board, Dar gave a friendly nod to the scattering of Coasties busily working. They entered the bridge, and the captain ducked inside the communications room and picked up a book. He brought it out and thumbed through it as she stood there watching.
“Ah.” He leaned on the book. “Yeah, here it is. 11:32 local. Are you the Dixieland Yankee?”
Dar chucked. “Well, I own her,” she drawled. “She’s a little bigger than I am.”
The captain glanced at her and grinned. “Sorry.” He glanced back down. “SOS reported in with latitude and longitude. We went to those coordinates, Ms…?”
“Roberts.”
“Roberts. But unfortunately, I have to tell you we didn’t find any boat there to rescue,” Captain Culver told her with an apologetic look.
Dar was momentarily stunned. “Ah,” she murmured. “You didn’t find anything?”
“Well,” the captain lifted his hand, “to be honest with you, we didn’t spend a lot of time looking. The storm was about on us and we were pitching like nobody’s business. We didn’t see any boat and our spotlight didn’t pick up any debris, if that’s what you mean.”
“Mm.” Dar inhaled. “Well, I understand, since we were being Terrors of the High Seas 361
tossed around last night, too. We were glad to see the marina.”
“Good job to get in safely,” the captain complimented. “Were they friends of yours?”
Dar shook her head. “No. Just a fellow boater in trouble.”
“After we finish here, we’ll take a run out there and see if we see anything,” the Coast Guardsman told her. “And if you’re in the area I’ll…ah…”
Dar glanced at him as he hesitated. “Yes?”
He blinked. “Oh, sorry.” He rubbed the back of his crewcut in mild embarrassment. “Your necklace caught my eye. I’ve never seen a woman with one of those before.”
With what? Dar’s brow contracted, then she looked down at herself. “Oh,” she murmured. “It’s my father’s,” she told him with a faint smile. “No, they haven’t let women into the program.”
The captain grinned. “Gotcha. We’ll let you know if we find anything. Will you be in port for long?” He closed the book and folded his arms across his chest, watching her.
“We’re leaving tonight,” Dar replied. “But we’ll be around.
Give us a holler.”
“Absolutely.” Captain Culver held out a hand. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Roberts. Have a safe trip.”
Dar clasped his hand, then allowed him to guide her out of the bridge and down the ramp. She left the cutter behind and walked on down the dockside, deep in thought. Had they all drowned? She was hard pressed to admit anything but relief if that’s what had happened. It put a closure on the incident, didn’t it?
Or did it? Wouldn’t DeSalliers’ friends, his family, want to know what happened? Wouldn’t they come searching, trying to find out? Wouldn’t there always be questions, following them?
Dar sighed as she paused to watch the waters of the marina ripple past. Then she shrugged, and started walking again. If questions came, then they did. She had questions of her own, and after all—they’d been in the right through the whole mess, hadn’t they? So, if someone wanted to investigate, well… she’d cross that bridge when she came to it. Right now, she had other things to do and places to be, and that was that.
“HEY, KERRY?” CHARLIE spoke up as Kerry was pouring another round of wine. “You interested in changing professions? I got a job for you if you are. This is some first rate chow.”
Kerry seated herself, giving Charlie a smile as she acknowledged the compliment. “Thanks, but no. I’m happy with the job I have.”
“You sure? Hospitality business’s got great benefits,” Charlie persisted.
362 Melissa Good Kerry sucked on her fork. “Well.” She pretended to mull the idea over. “Let’s see: in my current position, I can walk into my boss’s office, shut the door, and get a kiss that sends my stockings flying out the window. Can you beat that?” she enquired with a completely serious expression.
A tiny squawking noise from her right made her look in time to see Dar caught in mid-chew, her blue eyes widening in startlement as everyone turned to stare at her. “Ooh,” Kerry murmured. “I’ve never seen you blush like that before.”
Dar swallowed and shook her spoon at her partner. “I’m gonna make you blush in a minute, Kerrison,” she warned. “I’ll tell them what you like to do with i..fmpf.”
“Dar!” Kerry covered her partner’s mouth. “Bad girl! Not in front of your father!”
Andrew started laughing, his low rumbling breaking the moment.
Dar nipped Kerry’s fingers, making her yelp and remove her hand.
“Lord.” Andrew chuckled. “If you two ain’t something.”
“Yeah?” Dar turned her head. “Remind me to tell you sometime about Kerry’s views on parental sex.”
Kerry covered her eyes. “Jesus, Dar, I’m going to kill you,” she uttered in a hoarse squeak.
Bud, who had been silently eating his dinner since his arrival, chortled softly at that. He was still obviously stiff and sore, but he’d remained peaceable during the meal, his usual acerbic comments absent
Cautiously, Kerry peeked out from behind her hand, trying to ignore the twin pair of twinkling blue eyes. Dar poked the very tip of her tongue out at her, and Kerry made a grab for it, snatching her partner’s nose instead and tweaking it. “Troublemaker.”
Dar pointed at herself in feigned innocence, then at Kerry.
“You started it.”
“Kerry, I gotta admit it I can’t beat that benny pack.” Charlie shook his head, his bearded face crinkling into a grin. “And I wouldn’t wanna try.”
Kerry leaned her flushed cheek against her fist. “I know. I asked for that.” She poked Dar’s shoulder. “But thanks for the compliment. I’ve always enjoyed cooking, and I especially like doing it for people who appreciate the results.”
“Hey, I appreciate it,” Dar interjected.
Kerry smiled. “I know, honey. That’s why I always do it for you.”
Everyone chuckled and Kerry relaxed, relieved that the evening hadn’t been nearly as uncomfortable as she’d imagined it would be. They were all clustered around the small table, enjoying Terrors of the High Seas 363
her fish and vegetables as the boat rocked gently, the windows open to catch the cool evening breeze. She’d lit candles to save the drain on the Dixie’s batteries, and in the background Dar had a light, peaceful, New Age CD playing.
She smiled to herself as she thought of the surprise she had for Dar, something she’d held in the back of the small freezer and earlier had put in the refrigerator to thaw. “Ready for dessert?”
Kerry inquired.
“Does it involve chocolate?” Dar asked immediately.
“Heh.” Kerry got up and went into the galley. She put an already brewed pot of coffee on the
counter, along with cream and sugar.
“So, Andy, Dar said you’re living out on a boat now?” Charlie asked, breaking the brief silence.
“Yeap,” Andrew agreed solemnly. “’Bout pulled my shorts out when Ceci up and figgered she wanted to live on one, after all them years kicking me to get off ’em.”
“Hard to believe,” Bud contributed in a low mutter.
“She still doing her painting?” Charlie said.
“Definitely,” Dar answered. “She’s got a workshop set up in the living space, right around there.” She indicated the similar area in their boat. “Only it’s bigger.”
Charlie put his fork down. “ You got one of these things?” he asked Andrew in surprise. “What the hell’d they pension you off with, excess Sandinista funds?”
Andy chuckled, refusing to take offense. “Naw.” He reached over and tugged a lock of Dar’s hair. “Mah kid took care of it.”
Charlie and Bud both looked at Dar, and she shrugged modestly. “Not really. My Aunt May left me a trust fund when she died; I signed it over to them.” She glanced at her father. “It was their choice how to use it,” she said. “I never felt like anything was owed me anyway, especially after she left me the condo and this thing. “
Charlie whistled under his breath. He looked at Andrew. “Bet you’re glad she didn’t end up a swabbie, ain’t you?”
Andy snorted. “Hell, Ah’da been happy in a Quonset hut.” He leaned back. “But that there boat’s a hoot and a half, no question.
Ceci’s having her a good old time with it.”
Bud eyed him. “You guys lucked out,” he remarked, but his tone was mild, not grudging.
“Hell yes.” Andy hitched a knee up and circled it with both big hands. “Spent all them years in hell, now we got some good times.
Life’s evened out for a change.” He glanced at both men. “Ah done paid my dues.”
“That’s for sure,” Charlie murmured. “Glad things came out all right for you, Andy.”
364 Melissa Good
“Mm,” Bud grunted in accord.
A short silence fell over the group. Kerry picked up the tray and returned, setting it on the table. “This is a favorite of Dar’s,”
she explained, pointing to the round, fudgy looking creation in the center. “So if you don’t like chocolate, blame her.”
Dar exhaled as the tension around her dissipated. She cast an appreciative glance at the tray, recognizing the chocolate on chocolate on chocolate mousse cake Kerry had created for her for her last birthday. “Mm…where did that come from?” she asked.
“Don’t tell me you made it while I was out this afternoon.”
Kerry passed around fresh plates for the dessert and collected the used ones. Surprisingly, Bud got up and took the dinner plates from her, carrying them to the galley and setting them in the sink.
“Not quite. I made it before we left home. It’s been in the freezer.”
Dar observed the carving of her portion with a jealous eye.
“You didn’t tell me that.”
“Because I wanted it to last the trip,” her partner dryly commented. “And I wanted to get at least a small piece.”
“Wow.” Charlie had tasted the cake. “Mind if I get this recipe from you, Kerry? I’d sell a million pieces of this in the shop.”
Kerry sat down and picked up her fork. “Not at all.” She rested her free hand on her knee and found it immediately captured and squeezed under the table. “I’m just really glad everything turned out okay.”
Everyone murmured agreement. Bud cleared his throat and reluctantly met Andrew’s eyes. “Thanks,” he muttered.
“Welcome,” Andy replied.
“Any word on the jerk and his crew?” Charlie asked suddenly.
There was another awkward silence. “The Coast Guard didn’t find them,” Dar stated matter-of-factly. “There wasn’t anything at the coordinates we gave.”
Andrew snorted. “Serves them bastards’ right if they sank.”
“Damned if we don’t finally agree on something,” Bud said.
“Assholes.”
Charlie nodded. “Yep. Hope the fish had a damn good dinner.”
“Hey.” Bud spoke up. “You and Ceci ever ride out this way?”
Andrew finished his cake. “Thinking about it,” he replied.
“Ceci’s done into painting them ocean things again. Looking for new stuff.”
“Stop by and have dinner.”
Even Charlie looked surprised.
“Surely,” Andy drawled. “Thanks for the invite.”
Bud grunted and went back to eating, apparently having exhausted his sociability for the moment.
Dar and Kerry exchanged looks. Kerry felt the clasp on her hand tighten and she squared her shoulders, digging her fork into Terrors of the High Seas 365
her dessert and taking a bite with determined enjoyment. After all, they’d done what they could, more than most would have, given the circumstances.
Dar was right, Kerry thought. At some point you had to accept responsibility for the things you did. She had, and whatever fate DeSalliers had come to, he would have to do the same. What you cast out onto the waters came back to you in the end. Sometimes it took a while, and sometimes you had to go through hell before it did, like for Andrew. Sometimes you got off scott free for a lifetime and had it all your way, like her father had. But eventually the circle would close.
Kerry smiled, and looked up to find Dar smiling back at her.
Sometimes, you didn’t even have to wait a lifetime.
Epilogue
KERRY SWUNG GENTLY in the hammock, doing nothing more strenuous than watching the seagulls. She lifted a hand and took a swig from a longneck bottle of beer, finding an interesting patch of clouds wandering its way across the clear blue sky. “Hey, Dar?”
The other occupant on the hammock grunted in her ear incoherently.
“Y’think I should check my blood pressure right now?”
“Does that mean I gotta get up?” Dar mumbled. “I think your pressure’s fine. I can hear your heartbeat. It’s whistling Dixie.”
“Mmm,” Kerry agreed. “I feel very, very relaxed.” She lifted her other hand, linked with Dar’s, and kissed her partner’s fingers.
“Coming back here was a really good idea.”
“Uh huh.”
“I could stay here for weeks.”
“Uh huh.”
“There’s a rabbit on your hip.”
“Cool.”
Kerry turned her head and indulgently watched Dar’s mostly asleep profile. There was a dusting of beach sand on her cheek, and the dark hair, slightly overgrown, was hiding almost all of one eye.
“Would you like to take the bike out and ride naked down US 1
with me?”
“Sure.”
“I think that idea sounds better than it really is.” Kerry blew a lock of Dar’s hair back. “It’s gnat season.”
One blue eye opened. “Ew.”
“Mm.” Kerry pushed against the porch railing, swinging them both gently. “I was joking about the nude riding, but we could go down the road a bit and watch fireworks tonight.”
“We could do that,” Dar agreed sleepily. “How about we bring that bottle of champagne with us and toast the New Year out on the beach?”
“Ooh.” Kerry rubbed the side of her nose, which itched. “You missing not going to the company party?”
Dar just snorted. “Only thing I’m gonna miss is not getting to Terrors of the High Seas 367
dance with you in front of all of them,” she grumbled. “And we can do that here without having to suffer through high heels.”
“Okay.” Kerry rolled onto her side and sprawled over Dar, drawing in a breath full of cocoa butter and apricot body scrub. “I’ll bring my MP3 player with us on the bike.”
“Does it have speakers?’
“I intend for us to share the ear buds.”
“That means Who L
et the Dogs Out isn’t on the playlist, right?”
Kerry chuckled happily. “Ah, now this is a vacation, Dar.” She nuzzled her partner’s ear. “Just you and me. No pirates, no land sharks, no snooty but curiously ineffective private eyes.”
“Uh huh. A vacation from our vacation,” Dar said. “From now on, we’ll just take ’em two weeks at a time: one week to get into trouble, one week to recover from it.” She turned her head slightly and kissed the lips that had been nibbling her ear. “Mm. You taste like hot peppers.”
Kerry licked her lips. “Those were very tasty mud bugs.” She held up her beer. “I’ve been trying to cool down my mouth since we had lunch.”
Dar tasted her lips again. “There’s a little redneck steak joint about three miles south of here. Wanna join me there for a very low class New Year’s Eve dinner?”
“Is this the kind of place where you get a side order of butter with your deep fried garlic bread?”
“Uh huh.”
“And they serve brown gravy with the fries?”
“That and cheese sauce.”
“I’m there.” Kerry glanced over her shoulder at the sun. “Let’s go grab a shower and dress down,” she suggested. “We can laugh about poor Mark in his tuxedo.”
Dar took her time getting up, wrapping her hand around the back of Kerry’s neck and giving her a thorough, passionate kissing first. Then they eased out of the hammock and went inside, still attached to each other.
SHOWERED AND DRESSED, Kerry perched on the wicker stool next to the kitchen counter and studied the envelope in front of her. She picked up her black, permanent marker and wrote on the manila face, carefully penning a name and address.
When she was finished, she picked up the battered, much folded piece of laminated plastic and spread it flat, pressing it between two pieces of cardboard. She taped it in place, then slid the entire thing into the envelope.
“Bob, I’d like to believe you’re on the up and up, but you know, you’re pretty skunky,” Kerry said as she sealed the envelope. “And 368 Melissa Good as much as you praised your friend Tanya, I gotta wonder about anyone who would either hang out with you, or hire you to do something.”
She picked up the stamps she’d gotten at the local post office and affixed the proper number of them to the packet. “So, I figure the one person who actually should get this will probably know what the best thing to do with it is.”
