Part 9 (2/2)

Bud snorted again and Kerry's claws emerged, just a bit. ”I like 62*

their boat. I think it was a great choice for them to live on,” she replied.

”Yeah, well, if you say so,” Bud said. ”Musta changed a lot if Ceci Roberts'll park her b.u.t.t on some fis.h.i.+ng dingy.”

”Oh, I doubt she'd do that,” Kerry said. ”But...”

Kerry paused as the sound of engines came through the half open windows. She looked out, as did the rest of the table, and saw a large, well-lighted craft cruising slowly past them. ”Hm.”

Dar leaned on the back of the banquette and studied it. ”That's a big one.”

Bud got up and positioned himself behind her, crouching down and resting his elbows on the sill. He squinted, studying the s.h.i.+p's line. ”Huh.” He pointed. ”Got a search light on it. Just hit us.”

Charlie was also now peering out the window. ”Hey, you know, I think I saw that boat two days ago off the lee side of our island,” he said. ”Big, ugly, black thing.”

Kerry rested her chin on Dar's head. ”Dar, that can't be that obnoxious boat that pa.s.sed us in the straits, can it?”

”Hard to say,” Dar murmured. ”Let's go check it out.”

They got to the door, but as Dar opened it, a loudspeaker suddenly cut the night.

”Dixieland Yankee, do not pull anchor. Stay where you are and prepared to be boarded.”

Dar blinked, and then abruptly her brain kicked into gear.

”Boarded? Who in the h.e.l.l is that?”

Charlie watched over her shoulder as the boat started coming in at them. ”Some very big shot with a ton of money, tell ya that.”

Dar headed for the bridge. ”Kerry, go watch the anchor, will ya?” she shouted down as she scaled the ladder. ”You guys, hang on!”

Bud turned and poked Charlie in the chest. ”That means you, muskrat. I'm going up top.” He turned and followed Dar up to the bridge. Charlie remained in the doorway, holding on and watching the big s.h.i.+p approach.

Dar swung behind the console and hit the switches to retract the boat's anchor, her eyes darting out toward the oncoming s.h.i.+p.

”Feels like I'm trapped in a cheap movie of the week,” she muttered, glancing up as Bud appeared next to her. ”This happen a lot out here?”

Bud didn't answer.

Kerry's voice rose up from the bow. ”Anchor's in!”

”Get off the topside!” Dar yelled back, as she punched the starter b.u.t.tons for the diesels. The engines caught at once and rumbled into life.

”Dixieland Yankee, I repeat: stay where you are. You are trespa.s.sing in restricted waters.”*63 ”Are we?” Dar asked.

”My a.s.s,” Bud muttered. ”This thing got legs?”

”Kerry!” Dar bellowed.

”I'm down!”

”Hang on.” Dar shoved both throttles forward and heeled the boat over, watching the bow rise as the dual diesels dug into the water. The bigger boat was moving to intercept them and a searchlight hit her in the eyes. Dar cursed and kept the wheel turned, just clearing the other boat's bow before she whipped the wheel straight and gave the engines full throttle.

Their conjoined wakes rocked the Bertram, then the boat leveled out and Dar turned her eyes toward the depth meter, checking their draft. Behind them, the bigger boat had turned to follow, and she heard the roar as their engines were let loose in the chase.

”What in the h.e.l.l is this?” Dar snarled.

Bud chuckled dryly, the first time he'd laughed that night.

”Welcome to the Caribbean, Paladar. There still be pirates here, y'know.”

”Pirates in seventy-freaking-foot, mansion cruisers?” Dar asked, glancing behind them. ”Jesus!” The searchlight pinned them, and she could hear the engines getting louder. ”Kerry! Strap everything down!”

”Already there!” Kerry yelled back. 'What the h.e.l.l is going on?”

”Dixieland Yankee. If you don't reduce speed and go to idle, we will halt you by force. Please obey.”

”Kiss my a.s.s.” Dar flicked two switches on the console and nudged the throttles a little further.

Bud was wedged between the seats and the console as their speed increased and the wind slammed against them. ”You ain't much of a rule follower, are you?” he commented.

”I make the rules,” Dar replied. ”Hang on.” She set two final switches, glanced behind them at the boat rapidly gaining on them, and shoved the throttles all the way forward. With a throaty roar, the engine superchargers cut in and the bow planed up out of the water as their speed doubled.

Bud clutched at the railing. ”s.h.i.+t.”

Dar looked back, and felt her heart rate slow a little as the other boat stopped gaining as quickly. She looked again, swallowing a nervous lump as she frantically tried to figure out what to do next.

The compa.s.s showed them going south, and the depth finder showed good depth under their keel. The only question was: where the h.e.l.l was she going, and what was she going to do when she got there?

64*

KERRY EXHALED IN relief as she saw the big vessel drop a little further behind them. ”Excuse me.” She gently eased past Charlie, who was still in the doorway to the cabin. ”This is getting very icky.”

”No s.h.i.+t.” Charlie eyed the big boat. ”What the heck did you girls get yourselves into?”

”I wish I knew.” Kerry strode into the cabin and went to the storage chest, flipped the seat up and pulled out a long, black case.

She set it on the table and undid the catches, lifted the lid and laid it back. Inside rested a powerful, blued black shotgun, giving off the very distinct scent of gun oil.

”Ah.” Charlie was at her shoulder. ”Shoulda figured Dar'd have one of these.”

Kerry pulled the gun out and opened the stock. ”It's not Dar's,”

she murmured, flipping open a door in the case and removing shotgun sh.e.l.ls. ”It's mine.” She glanced up at the surprised man.

”I've been shooting since I was eight.” She closed the shotgun and pocketed a handful of extra sh.e.l.ls, then headed for the door.

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