At the telephone office the operator assigned me a phone and put my call through to Glossman. His secretary seemed anxious to hear from me. Glossman came on the line immediately.
"Jay, we were worried. Is everything okay?"
I filled him in on all the information we learned from Barrel-chest. He listened quietly, making no comments. Ending the conversation, I related seeing Lynn headed for the airport only minutes ago.
He offered to send a plane down this afternoon, but I asked to wait until tomorrow so that we could get some rest and clear up a couple of things. Kathy Peirce was on my mind. He agreed and said that the plane would land around two p.m. the next day.
The walk back to Bobby's Bar took me past the big grocery store where the young children begged for money from the tourists. The goodhearted mainlanders who yielded to their pleas were doing a great injustice to them. A new hotel was being built on the east side of the road to attract more unneeded visitors to this quiet island village.
Dave was waiting for me. He looked as bad as I felt. We had one more drink while I filled him in on the conversation with Glossman. Bobby said if we'd show up at the bar around noon tomorrow that he would prepare a big seafood lunch for us. We appreciated the gesture and assured him we would be there.
I asked if he'd send Skinner down to B.J.'s house and invite Kathy to join us. He said he might go himself, being as she was so pretty.
We took one of the cigarette boats back to American Harbor at Man-O-War Cay. We boarded the sailboat, Dave took the Vee-birth, and I fell into the portside bunk. We were asleep instantly.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The gentle rocking of the boat woke me. Sun slanted through the starboard porthole. A fresh smell of salt air filled the cabin. My feet were itching ferociously from the coral cuts. Dave's snoring brought it all back.
Lying still for a moment, feeling the movement of the sailboat tugging at the end of the anchor rode, I wondered why Lynn Renoir was on Abaco Island, and why had she showed up in Nassau at the Paradise Island casino? Did she know I was here, or was she simply following some lead concerning her sister? Why had she not been in contact with Joe Glossman or Bill Moran?
The sad thing about these questions was that if asked yesterday I wouldn’t have known the answers, today I knew them all.
From the angle of the slanting rays of the sun beaming into the cabin it was close to noon. Glancing at my old worn Rolex, I saw that it was ticking past eleven a.m. Rolling out of my bunk, I lit the gimbaled stove and rummaged around for coffee and a pot to brew it in.
"There is no coffee," Dave grumbled from the Vee-birth.
"Not my idea of a way to run a boat."
Climbing out into the cockpit, I dove overboard. The cool water was refreshing. Struggling down to the white sand bottom, the water became colder. My ears popped, clearing my head. Rising slowly, I swam back to the boarding ladder, saltwater stinging my feet, however I knew it was cleansing the wounds and would help the healing process.
Dave was taking a shower and, while he dressed, I rinsed off with fresh water. Feeling renewed, I was suddenly hungry.
"We're supposed to be at Bobby's by noon."
"Don't get in a hurry, you're in the islands, remember."
"Kathy's going to be there. I wanted to spend some time with her before we left."
"Figured as much. She's a fine lady, but you don't stand a chance. She's way out of your league."
"You let me worry about my league."
Bobby and Skinner did prepare a feast. Two tables were pulled together and piled with cracked conch, fritters, crawfish salad, and warm homemade bread.
Kathy was there, standing at the bar talking with Skinner. She was dressed in a pair of dark slacks and a white blouse with hand-sewn red roses across the front. Her black hair was tied up in a ponytail with a red ribbon, and she wore a pair of hand-woven, leather sandals. Her green, bottomless eyes sparkled like the diamond-crested waves in the harbor. She turned and looked at me with a peculiar grace of motion that was slow, relaxed, and athletically feminine.
"How are the feet?"
"They're healing. I'm glad you could make it."
"Mr. Skinner's invitation was simply too tempting to turn down." Her expression was held to the soft hint of a smile, set and faintly suggested like a mischievous siren.
We ate the seafood, washing it down with cool, red wine drunk from thick water glasses. Served in clay pitchers, the wine was sent to Bobby in the barrel by a French winemaker who owned a house on Man-O-War Cay. The cask was called a barrique, and held about fifty-seven gallons. The wine was velvet on the tongue and went well with the food. A good wine to drink during the day, it warmed us, but didn't make us drunk.
Before I knew it, it was time to go to the airport. Taking Kathy over to a corner, I said, "Look, I realize this is sudden, that we don't know each other well, but I'd like you to come back to Mississippi with us, now, on the airplane. You can finish your vacation on the Gulf of Mexico. I have access to a sailboat, we could sail to the out islands, be alone, and get to know one another."
"I don't know, this is so unexpected." The sparkle danced in her bottomless eyes. "I'd have to go to B.J.'s and pack…I don't know."
"Skinner will run you down. You can be back in an hour. I'll hold the plane."
She looked deep into my eyes. "I don't promise anything, you understand?"
"Sure."
Karl Strange and his son, Will, volunteered to drive us to the airport. We said our good-byes to Bobby, thanking him for the lunch. Skinner agreed to see that Kathy got to the airport.
We arrived at the small terminal building just as Glossman's plane was landing. Windom was flying. After our greetings and introductions, I asked him if he'd mind stopping through Nassau on the way back. There was some important business that needed taking care of; the room was still rented at the Paradise Island Hotel, Glossman's ten thousand in cash, minus a few hundred, was in the hotel safe, and Gus' car needed to be returned. He said that some changes would have to be made to the flight plan, but it wasn't a problem.
Telling Windom that there would be a slight delay waiting for a third passenger, he frowned, and looked at me. "Well, I hope it's for a pretty lady."
Skinner drove up in a taxi a short while later with Kathy. He brought her bags over to the airplane. Windom looked at me and shook his head.
Young Will came up to where Dave and I were standing. "Mr. Dave, Cop'um Jay. I just want to say there ain't no way to repay you for what you did. I see the light, now. I want to thank you. If you ever down here and need anything, you let me know."
Dave put an arm around him. "Forget it, Will. We've all got to learn, and you've had a hell of a lesson. We know you won't let your Pa down. We'll see you on our next trip across."
The boy had tears in his eyes. I shook his hand, but didn't say anything. It was Dave's show, not mine.
The flight over to Nassau was short. Kathy and I took a cab out to the hotel while everyone else waited at the airport. On the way, we stopped by the market place and Kathy bought two hand-carved teak statues that she said reminded her of us.
At the hotel, I picked up the money, paid for the room, and retrieved Gus' car. Pulling up at the marina, I found Gus a little more than irate. After belittling me for a good sixty seconds, he noticed Kathy standing nearby with a bemused expression.
"Gus, this is Kathy."
"Ah, hell, lassie, don't pay no attention to an old son of a sea dog like me. I been fussing at this young tar going on twenty years. I was simply worried about him."
Kathy leaned over and gave him a kiss. He dropped his cigar.
"Come on, Gus, we need a ride to the airport."
I asked Windom to fly back over Abaco Island. I wanted Kathy to see the whole chain from altitude. During the climb we turned north, passing over Paradise Island and the hotel where Howard Hughes secluded himself for several years in a codeine-induced haze, never seeing the intense beauty around him. Approaching the south end of Abaco the sky was absolutely clear and tinted a light blue so delicate you knew that if one threw a baseball far enough and hard enough it would shatter the sky into tiny hot shards. The combination of colors in the shallow waters around the cays, the blue and purple of the Atlantic Ocean with its sparkling field of diamond-topped waves was breathtaking.