Ashley stood and looked up and down the beach. “Speaking of lost,” she said. “Have you seen James? He’s late for dinner again.”
“I think he’s down at the Holt’s,” Katya said. “They’ve been pit barbecuing a pig since yesterday and I guess he wanted to make sure they were doing it right, and that they weren’t planning on eating the whole thing themselves.”
Aaron laughed at the image of Larry Holt and his wife sitting down to eat an entire barbecued pig.
“That’s my James,” Ashley said. “Always the teacher. I may have to walk over and check that out for myself. You two love-birds enjoy your evening.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Aaron said, then watched her walk down the path leading through a grove of palms to the Holt’s beach hut.
He sat back and took a sip of his drink, watching the sun as it fell slowly toward the sea.
He had been delighted to hear that his mother had fallen in love with James Harness, and that they had been married, and that they had talked Larry Holt and his wife into coming with them to the Caymans to be near Aaron and Katya. Together on the island, they had become the close-knit family Aaron had yearned so deeply for.
Harness had been true to his word: His official police report made no mention of him, Ashley, or Katya; and as Aaron had requested, James had sold the Cayman Jewel anonymously, at auction, with the proceeds going to a home for wayward boys.
“If you’d like I could help out down at the dive shop tomorrow,” Katya said, bringing him back to earth.
“That’d be great,” Aaron said. “There’s a cruise ship coming in, and we’re expecting a lot of business. I’ll be spending a lot more time there myself, now that we own the place.”
“You know, Aaron,” Katya said. “You really don’t have to work for a living anymore.”
“I know,” Aaron said. “But I work because I like helping people. Earl’s Reef allows me to do that, and owning it is something I’ve dreamed about for a long time.”
“Read the letter again,” Katya insisted.
“I’ve already read it to you like a thousand times,” Aaron said.
“Pleeease,” Katya said, giving him her best pout.
Reluctantly, Aaron pulled the folded letter out of his shorts pocket.
“I just like hearing it,” Katya said, sitting up.
Aaron unfolded the paper and read it aloud:
Dear Mr. Quinn:
This certified letter is to notify you that you have been named legal beneficiary of the Trust Fund of one Michael Lee St. John, in the amount of $40,000,000. Amount secured by his attorney and deposited in an account in the name of Aaron Daniel Quinn.
“I still can’t believe it’s real,” Katya said. “You told me that Michael had written a sequel to Saturday Night Crash, but I never expected it to become a blockbuster hit. It’s incredible.”
“Michael had just finished writing the sequel when I met him,” Aaron explained. “And he must have had some sort of premonition, because he wrote me into his will within three days of meeting me — just before he died. It took years to get the film made and into theaters, and then the lawyers took time to get Michael’s film royalties straightened out and into his trust fund, and eventually to me. It’s a miracle it happened at all.”
“And with Earl’s Dive Shop coming up for sale, the timing couldn’t have been better,” Katya said.
“I know, and with you coming into my life… Never in my lifetime will I ever begin to thank Michael for what he did for me.”
“I didn’t know writers could make that much money,” Katya said.
“Well, when you consider film rights, and the effects a blockbuster hit has on book sales, it starts to add up,” Aaron said. “I expect to be receiving royalties and residual checks for a long, long time.”
He refilled their glasses from the pitcher of Mojitos again, and together they watched the sun dip slowly into the Caribbean.
“Do you remember our first time together?” Katya asked, her skin glowing off the warm sunset.
“How could I forget?” Aaron replied, smiling. “We were on a picnic blanket on the beach in Glorietta Bay.” He reached over and curled a few strands of her hair around his index finger. “If the tide hadn’t decided to come in, we’d probably still be there.”
Katya laughed, and then she looked at him, taking a seductive sip of her Mojito. “You know, Aaron,” she said softly. “I still have that blanket. What do you say we drink up and try it on for size?”
John Avery would like to thank the following for their kind and generous assistance in the creation of this book:
Maritime Museum of San Diego
Mr. Jeff Loman
Mr. RD Baker
About the Author
John Avery lives with his wife, Julie, and their horses, dogs, and chickens, on a small ranch in the mountains outside San Diego — where he is currently hard at work on his next story.
John thanks you for reading BLACK COBRA, and he sincerely hopes you enjoyed it. Look for more of his stories to follow soon!
Copyright
Copyright © 2013 by John Avery
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the author.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locals or organizations is entirely coincidental.
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. Thank you for respecting the author's rights and the hard work that went into the creation of this novel.
4th Edition eBook, April 2013
Published by Apticon Books
United States of America
@johnaverybooks