Terrors of the High Seas - DK6 (27 page)

“S’okay.” Dar sighed. “It’s a reasonable assumption to make.”

They looked at each other. “I think we got a little sidetracked there,” Kerry suggested. “So, are we going to go after this creep?”

Dar exhaled. “Yeah, I think we did get a little off course,” she agreed. “Let’s go see what he wants. Maybe we can just talk to him and cut through some of the crap.”

Kerry nodded. “Okay.”

They both sat there for a few moments in silence. Then Kerry took a breath. “So, did I—”

“You did great,” Dar cut in. “You impressed the hell out of me,” she added. “Or, as your boss, I would have said something.”

Kerry kicked her heels gently against the wall. “I figured that.

But it’s nice to hear it.”

Dar made a mental note, again, to work on her positive feedback. It was so easy to tell everyone when they did something wrong, and she often forgot to take care of the flip side. Bad mistake. She knew better. “Sorry I didn’t take the time to let you know,” she told Kerry. “I’ll try to do better.”

Kerry peeked at her. “Thanks, boss.”

They looked at each other. “Aren’t we supposed to be on vacation?” Dar asked plaintively.

“We are,” Kerry replied. “Sorry about that.”

Dar gave her a wry look, then chuckled. “Let’s get dressed. We can go get you some soup for lunch.”

“You’re on.” Kerry leaned over and gave Dar a one-armed hug.

“Let’s go be crusaders.”

Rolling thunder boomed an enthusiastic endorsement.

KERRY STOOD JUST inside the door to the verandah of the restaurant, watching the rain fall. She’d managed a bowl of cream-of-something bland soup with some crackers for lunch, and her body seemed to have settled back down to near normal.

Dar had been very quiet since they’d left the room, though, and Kerry sensed there was still a little strain between them from their abrupt foray into the business side of their lives.
There are times
, she admitted privately,
when I wish we didn’t work so closely together
. She didn’t mind having Dar as her supervisor—as far as corporate
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officers went, Dar was better than most in that department. It was just that as their relationship deepened and evolved, separating their lives at work got tougher and tougher on both of them.

In this case, she knew she’d made Dar feel bad about her assumptions, even though Kerry didn’t actually mind if they’d been true. The first time she’d spotted the log-on, she’d been a little unsettled, but after that, she’d watched for it with a sense of anticipation. “Dar’s final check-off” became a way for her to put closure on a project, and she knew once she’d seen it, she could put that puppy to bed and not have to worry about it coming back to nip her in the butt. It was a very safe feeling.

Kerry sighed.
Ick
. Though, now that she thought about it, the fact that Dar took the time to review her techniques, evaluating them and learning how she did things, was extremely flattering.

However, she realized that her thinking Dar was snooping after her wasn’t. So… She heard footsteps behind her, and Dar emerged onto the porch, standing quietly as she sucked on a mint candy. Kerry backed up a step and leaned against her, feeling Dar’s body relax as she felt the contact. She curled her fingers around Dar’s and squeezed them, and smiled a little as the pressure was returned.

“You doing okay?” Dar asked.

“Almost,” Kerry replied, turning her head to look up at Dar.

“Are you okay?”

Dar gazed back at her with a quizzical expression, then her face relaxed into a smile. “I’m fine,” she reassured Kerry. “But do me a favor, wouldja?”

“Anything,” Kerry replied sincerely.

“Next time, ask me.”

Kerry understood what she meant. Ask instead of assuming. It was a key concept she thought she’d learned from Dar from the very start; she’d just seldom needed to apply it to her very straightforward boss. “I will,” she promised.

“Okay.” Dar gave her a pat on the hip. “You ready to go meet our mysterious adversary?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Kerry felt her insides unknot as they pulled their jackets closed and zipped them. Then they walked together down the steps and into the rain. The drops hit her shoulders heavily, beating a gentle tattoo across them as she put her head down and kept walking.

Dar threw an arm over Kerry’s shoulders and pulled her casually closer, turning slightly to take the brunt of the rainfall on her taller form. She focused her attention on the approaching docks.

Spotting the ominous form of the big black boat at the very end of them, her pulse raced.

There were two men guarding the gangplank when they arrived. Dar stopped comfortably short of them and put her hands 154
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into her pockets. She stared at them until they got uncomfortable, then she pulled the envelope out of her pocket and frisbeed it over to the nearer one, smacking him in the chest with it.

Ten points for style
. Dar returned her hand to its dry haven and waited.

The guard scrambled for the envelope and snatched it before it hit the ground. He gave Dar a threatening look, then opened it and unfolded the paper. After he read it, he turned away and spoke into the radio clipped to his shoulder.

Kerry rocked up and down gently on her heels, taking the opportunity to study the boat. The bow near the waterline bore fresh paint, and she gauged they’d had to patch at least ten feet of the fiberglass. She chuckled silently, but looked up as she heard the guard coming closer.

The lackey spoke gruffly to Dar. “Come with me. Just you.”

“Kiss my ass,” Dar replied in a pleasant drawl. “Tell your boss if he wants to talk, c’mon out here.”

The guard just looked at her.

“G’wan.” Dar shooed him off. “Yes or no, sixty seconds.”

The man snorted, then turned away again and spoke into his shoulder.

“Don’t you get a stiff neck after a while like that?” Kerry whispered to Dar.

“You start doing it even when you aren’t wearing the damn thing,” Dar whispered back. “Like in the supermarket. There ya are, buying milk next to a guy talking to his arm.”

“Is that like ‘talk to the hand, buddy, talk to the hand?’” Kerry snickered as she moved her fingers in a puppet-like motion.

Dar shook her head. “These guys are like cartoon characters.”

She indicated the guard approaching them again, his bodybuilder’s physique flexing like a Macy’s balloon.

“Mr. DeSalliers says he doesn’t have time to play games with you,” the man announced.

“All right.” Dar lifted a hand. “Hasta Manana, jackass.” She turned and started back down the dock. “If he changes his mind, we’re in slip 30.”

“Bye.” Kerry waggled her fingers at the men before she ambled after Dar. She caught up to her partner after a few steps and they strolled along together. “So,” she commented. “Now what?”

Dar glanced down at the keychain watch looped through her belt. “Give it a minute.”

It really was a big game, of sorts. Kerry had gotten used to the delicate and sometimes not so delicate maneuverings of the boardroom. This didn’t seem that different.

“Ms. Roberts!”

Kerry clucked her tongue. “Ooh, you’re good.”

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Dar paused and looked over her shoulder, her eyes hidden behind sunglasses despite the rain.
Ah
. DeSalliers himself was trotting down the dock after them, his blue blazer getting spotted with rain. Dar turned fully and waited, having gotten what she’d asked for. “Yes?”

“Ms. Roberts, Ms. Roberts.” DeSalliers sighed. “You know, I think we really did start off on the wrong foot.” His attitude, completely reversed from the morning’s, was almost friendly. “All we do is keep getting more and more hostile. Can’t we turn this around?”

Dar regarded him warily. “You’re giving me bullshit whiplash.”

“Please,” DeSalliers continued, “let’s just go inside, out of this blasted rain, and talk.”

The risk seemed acceptable, Dar reasoned, considering everything. “All right,” she agreed.

“Great.” He started to lead them back toward his boat. “I’m sure we can come to a better understanding of each other, if we just put a little effort into it.” Only then did he seem to notice Kerry’s continued presence. “Sorry. I don’t think we’ve met?”

Kerry promptly extended a hand. “Kerry.”

“Ah.” DeSalliers took it and pressed it briefly. “And you are?”

“Dar’s American Express card,” Kerry replied smoothly. “She never leaves home without me.”

Dar had to bite the inside of her lip to keep from smiling.

“We’re partners,” she supplied succinctly.

They passed the two guards, both of whom glared at Dar as she brushed by them. Dar ignored their attitude and followed DeSalliers up the long gangplank to the deck of his boat, stepping neatly down after him onto the vessel.

Kerry eased off after Dar, looking around the deck of the big boat as they moved around toward the cabin. The deck floor was covered in plush-looking, all-weather Astroturf, and there were two more guards who were braced on either side of the deck, hands clasped behind their backs. They were big and healthy looking, and reminded Kerry irresistibly of cattle. “Moo,” she uttered, under her breath. She saw Dar’s shoulders twitch in a silent laugh.

They followed DeSalliers inside the cabin and found a space as ostentatiously well-appointed as the exterior deck suggested. It was full of dark leather furniture and teak wood, and smelled very masculine. On one side there was a bar, complete with a ceiling-mounted glass rack with pivots. Across from the bar was an entertainment center with a circular viewing lounge. Toward the rear was a spacious galley, and behind that, a closed door that led to the more private areas of the boat’s cabin.

The windows were so tinted that light barely penetrated. Most 156
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of the illumination was provided by recessed fixtures near the walls, and one searingly bright beam that splashed over the dining room table, highlighting a crystal vase with a single, perfect red rose in it.

“Please, sit down,” DeSalliers said as he crossed to the bar.

“Can I get you both a drink?”

“No thank you,” Kerry replied. She waited quietly near the door, looking around.

Dar was circling the cabin, examining the oriental-themed, framed mats on the walls. “Nothing for me, thanks.” She stopped in front of a small painting near the galley, leaning forward a little as she recognized the style. Her eyebrows rose behind her glasses.

“Nice piece, isn’t it?” Their host spoke up behind her. “I have a much larger one in my home. Truly captures the majesty of the sea.”

Dar straightened. “Very nice.” She pulled off her sunglasses and turned, chewing on the earpiece as she regarded DeSalliers.

“I’ll pass your compliments on to my mother.”

The man froze in place. His brows contracted fiercely, giving him an almost comical look as he paused in the act of pouring himself a glass of what appeared to be scotch. “Excuse me?”

Dar’s thumb gestured over her shoulder at the small painting.

“That’s my mother’s work,” she replied mildly. “Seascapes are a favorite theme of hers.”

DeSalliers put down the glass and rested his hands on the bar.

“Well, well,” he murmured. “You are a veritable Pandora’s box of surprises, aren’t you, Ms. Roberts?” He picked up his glass and swirled the contents, circling Dar. “I send out an inquiry expecting, at best, some rich brat tooling about the Caribbean, and what do I come up with? The CIO of the largest computer services organization in the world.” He paused. “What a surprise.”

Dar shrugged. “We’re even. I go out tooling about the Caribbean on a simple vacation, and what do I come up with?

Assholes chasing my boat, breaking and entering my hotel room, and vague, useless threats sent by courier,” she countered. “What a surprise. All I was expecting was reasonable weather and a few spiny lobster.”

DeSalliers sighed. “I thought we were trying to get on a better footing.”

Dar spread out her hands, both of her eyebrows lifting. “I come up from a damn dive, and the next thing I know, your half-witted goons are chasing my ass down.”

“Now, Ms. Roberts…” The man held a hand up soothingly. “I realize now we came at you the wrong way.”

“You mean, after the intimidation tricks didn’t work, then you decided to find out who you were chasing?” Kerry commented from
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her spot near the doorway.

DeSalliers shot a glance at her and apparently decided the gracious host scam wasn’t working. “Let’s cut to the chase.”

“Finally.” Dar chewed on her sunglasses again, then she sauntered over to the nearest comfortable leather chair and sprawled in it. Kerry caught the almost imperceptible signal and joined her, perching on the chair’s arm.

“Okay.” DeSalliers adapted again, taking the chair across from them. “Here’s the deal.” His entire attitude changed, becoming tough and businesslike. Almost like Dar, in fact. “I have a piece of ocean on which I own the rights of salvage. You dove that piece of ocean and removed something from it. I want it.”

Kerry took the lead. “Okay. First off, you didn’t mark the salvage site.” She ticked off her fingers. “You didn’t post a buoy, you didn’t put up a diver flag, and there were no tags on the wreck.”

He took a sip of his drink. “We were about to.”

“But you didn’t,” Kerry said. “So how were we supposed to know you were going to salvage it? ILS doesn’t hire psychics.”

“That’s not the point,” DeSalliers said with a frown. “The fact is, you were down there.”

“What’s so important about this wreck?” Kerry asked. “I saw it.

It’s an old fishing freighter with more coral than steel.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Then,” Dar picked up the conversation, “for your records, we picked up a conch shell and brought it topside. You don’t have salvage rights on marine invertebrates or their calciferous exterior structures.”

The man’s fingers drummed nervously on his knee, which jiggled slightly with tension. “I’m very sorry,” he remarked quietly,