Part 26 (1/2)
Now that he was on his own he'd still been wimpy about his coffee, buying a bargain preground instead of pricey beans and a grinder. After tasting Annabelle's coffee, he was ready to make the switch.
”Here you go.” Annabelle handed him a mugful of heaven.
”Thank you, Annabelle.” He said her name because he liked using it. You could smile and say her name at the same time. He'd never known an Annabelle before, and he couldn't imagine the name suiting anyone else.
”You're welcome.” She looked so serious. No smiles for her.
He'd tried not to communicate his concern, but she was no dummy. She had to know this was a desolate place for a crash landing.
He longed for some way to make her feel better. ”You make the best coffee.”
”Thanks.” She handed Lincoln a can of c.o.ke.
Maintaining his cool-guy slouch, he took it and thanked her.
Matt wondered if posture was another thing Annabelle had decided not to ha.s.sle the kid about. Every time Matt noticed the curve of Lincoln's spine he fought the urge to tell him to sit up straight. That was probably another reason Annabelle didn't date, so she wouldn't have to deal with guys thinking they could step in and demonstrate their own brand of parenting.
”I'll be back with the rest in a minute,” Annabelle said. ”I made ham sandwiches so you could eat and drive at the same time.”
”Perfect.” Matt vowed he'd choke down that sandwich. Not eating it would let her know that worry had taken away his appet.i.te. That could only upset her more.
While she was down in the galley getting the sandwiches, he sipped his coffee and allowed himself a small escape from reality. In his world, he'd have married someone like Annabelle the first time around, someone who cherished good coffee and understood kids. Then Matt would be sitting here with his son, Lincoln. His son of the wild and crazy hair and the gentle heart.
Genevieve didn't fit into the picture very well, though.
Annabelle had admitted during lunch that she'd had Genevieve when she was fifteen. Matt had been raised not to get fifteen-year-olds pregnant. He'd always heard that teenage pregnancies screwed up everything and everybody, yet Annabelle and Genevieve seemed to be fine, so there went that theory.
This time as Annabelle climbed the steps to the c.o.c.kpit, Matt smelled her perfume and got hard. Certainly inappropriate under the circ.u.mstances, and yet emotions were running high with all of them. s.e.xual urges could be closer to the surface now, at least for him, maybe even for her.
He glanced over at Lincoln, afraid that the kid would sense something and check out Matt's fly. Having an adolescent around as a chaperon meant no public displays of l.u.s.t. Knowing the adolescent could be psychic ruled out private l.u.s.ting, too. Matt started reciting baseball statistics in his head and finally got his erection under control right before Annabelle approached with her plate of sandwiches.
”Can you manage a sandwich and your coffee?” she asked.
”Sure.” He set his mug into a cup holder and picked up a sandwich.
”Yikes!” Lincoln bolted upright. ”What is that!”
Annabelle dropped the plate of sandwiches. ”What, Lincoln? What?”
Heart pounding, Matt looked in the direction Lincoln was pointing.
”That big freakin' bird! It looks like a seagull on steroids!”
Matt gazed up at the large gray and white bird gliding in the sky just ahead of them. Then he sank back against the seat and gulped for air. ”It's an albatross. They're more common out here in the Leewards than back in Honolulu, so I guess you've never seen one before.”
”Lincoln, you got us all excited about a blessed bird?”
Annabelle sounded all choked up. ”I ruined this whole plate of sandwiches for a gol-danged bird>n Then she turned and ran down the steps.
Lincoln pulled off his earphones and looked miserable. ”Aw, geez. I didn't mean to-”
”Go after her.” Matt couldn't leave the c.o.c.kpit, couldn't even slow the engine and let Lincoln take over.
”But I didn't think she'd-”
”Go after her, d.a.m.n it! She's hanging on by a thread, and I think the thread just snapped. She needs somebody to hold her and tell her it's gonna be okay. I can't do it or we're liable to end up on a reef somewhere with a hole in the side of this boat. So it's up to you.”
”Right.” Looking shaken, Lincoln headed down the steps.
Left with sandwiches underfoot and an albatross flying ahead of the boat as if showing the way, Matt s.h.i.+vered as a chill ran down his spine.
He'd picked up the old superst.i.tion about albatrosses from his father and his father's sailor friends. It wasn't logical, and it wasn't modern, but many old salts still thought of the big birds as the reincarnated souls of dead seamen. Matt had been indoctrinated early, and the sight of the bird always gave him the creeps. He wished to h.e.l.l they hadn't run across this one.
Chapter 19.
Genevieve wished Nick would choke to death on the guavas. He'd already eaten three of the five they'd brought in the suitcase. He reminded her of a hog with his snout in the slop bucket. To think that she'd once thought he was the spitting image of Cary Grant. Right now he looked like Frankenstein.
He didn't scare her as much as Frankenstein would, though. When he'd first grabbed her, she'd about jumped out of her skin, but she'd found out that a person couldn't stay scared forever. Sooner or later the feeling wore off, and now she was busy calculating how to get out of this fix.
Cousin Festus down in the Hollow used to like to jump out and grab folks like Nick had, until the day Lyda Mae kicked him in the b.a.l.l.s with the heel of her army-issue boots. Genevieve had meant to practice that move herself, but she'd left the Hollow and forgotten all about it. She could have used that move when Nick grabbed her.
Except Cousin Festus never came at anybody with a gun. Maybe kicking Nick in the b.a.l.l.s wouldn't be such a good idea. But she needed to think of something, because once he figured out how to dispose of their bodies, he'd kill both her and Jack. He could feed them to the sharks, but Genevieve had seen Jaws and she knew you couldn't count NerJ in <5hinin armor=””>
on a shark to eat everything. A shark could leave the exact body part with a bullet in it that would incriminate Nick.
No, if Nick was thinking straight, which he might not be, the only way to dispose of two bodies was to tie a rock on them and sink them out in the ocean. That would require a boat, so logically Nick shouldn't decide to kill them until his pickup men arrived.
Genevieve was worried that Nick might not be logical, though. When she looked into his eyes, which she mostly tried not to do, he reminded her of Uncle Rufus's old hound dog Sour Mash, who got bit by a rabid skunk.
Anybody using logic wouldn't drink all the water and eat all the food. All three of them could be stuck here for a while, and although Nick certainly didn't care if she and Jack died of thirst, he ought to have sense enough to save something for himself. Genevieve thought maybe the strain of being so dose to getting all that money and not being able to finish the job might have affected Nick like the skunk bite had affected Sour Mash.
Sure enough, Nick ate the fourth guava, and all that was left was the one that had rolled in front of Jack's face. Grabbing his gun, Nick stood up, probably to walk around and get it.
A moment later, Jack cursed softly.
”Hey!” Genevieve struggled against the belt holding her wrists. ”Whatever you're doing to Jack, cut it out!”
Nick came back into her line of vision and grinned, revealing the guava seed stuck in his teeth. ”You have a thing for Farley, don't you, Genevieve?”
She started getting scared all over again. Nick had that crazy look in his eyes, and if he thought she cared about Jack, he might start torturing Jack just to pa.s.s the time. ”No, I don't. Just like you said, he's a computer geek. Not my type.”
”Maybe, maybe not.” Nick's gaze swept over the two of 266 Vicki Lewis Thompson them. Then he glanced down. ”Well, look at that! If it isn't a condom!” He stuck the guava in his pocket and scooped the condom from the sand.
”So what?” Genevieve tried to look bored with his discovery. ”I always carry one in my suitcase, for emergencies.”
Nick tossed the condom in the air and caught it again. ”I don't believe you for a minute. You brought this in case you needed it on Maui. And with all the rumors about me, I doubt if you only brought one. So I ask myself, what happened to the rest of them?”
”She only brought one,” Jack said. ”She knew you were a one-shot-and-it's-over kind of guy.”