Ham left Peck's house with four other men who were also quartered in the bunkhouse. None of them was over thirty, and they were talking excitedly about the group and their part in it. They reached the bunkhouse and began to unpack their things, placing their clothes in lockers. Ham took his time; he wanted them all asleep before him. With that in mind, he wrapped a towel around himself, went into the heads and took a long, hot shower.
When he came out, two of the boys were still talking quietly, but soon they drifted off, and the barracks was quiet. Ham checked his watch and waited for another hour before he made a move. He got silently out of bed, took a blanket and a pillow from the empty bunk next to his and walked quietly out the lakeside door. Once outside, he stopped and listened for a full two minutes to see if anyone was stirring inside the bunkhouse or outside. Hearing nothing, he made his way across a neatly trimmed lawn toward the lake. Once there, he stopped and listened again. His watch showed nearly half-past two in the morning.
Holly sat in the bottom of the dinghy, the motor humming quietly behind her, only her head and shoulders above the boat's gunwales. Peck's house had only one light now, and it appeared to be an outdoor lamp that stayed on all night. This was good, since it gave her a landmark. Then, as she made her way slowly across the lake, the moon began to rise, and this was not good. It was nearly three-quarters full, and it gave a lot more light than Holly needed or wanted. She reckoned she was a mile from shore now, and remembering that even small sounds carried across water, she switched off the little motor and let the boat drift. Then she made her way forward to the stem, knelt down and began paddling with an oar, using a J-stroke, the way she had been taught at Girl Scout camp, so that she wouldn't have to lift it from the water.
Ham hadn't noticed the motor until it was turned off, but when it went quiet, he knew what the sound had been. The moon was rising, and he didn't like that at all. He walked back to the bunkhouse and stuck his head inside the door. Four lumps lay inert in the bunks, one of them snoring softly. He went back to the lakeshore and, bothered by the moon, lay down on the blanket. He didn't want to be spotted in the moonlight.
Holly could see the dark outline of the bunkhouse, and she made for it, resisting the urge to paddle faster. Then, as she approached the shore from fifty yards out, two things happened. Ham, who had apparently been lying down, stood up. Then a light went on in the bunkhouse.
48
Ham hunkered down under his blanket and pretended to be asleep. The light had alarmed him; he didn't know who might be behind him. Then he heard a screen door shut and someone walking across the lawn toward him.
"Ham?"
"Huh?" he grunted. He turned over and found one of his four bunkhouse mates, a kid named Jimmy, standing over him. "What's up?" he asked sleepily.
"There's a boat out there, about fifty yards away," Jimmy said.
Ham sat up on an elbow and looked toward the dinghy, which appeared to be empty. "Just somebody's dinghy came untied," he said grumpily. "Why the hell did you wake me up? I came out here to get away from the snoring, and now I've got you making noise. And why is that light on in the bunkhouse?"
"Sorry, Ham, I didn't know you were sleeping." He started toward the edge of the water. "I'm going to swim out there and check out that boat."
"Hold it right there," Ham said, and he brought authority into his voice.
Jimmy stopped, turned and looked at him.
"You have any idea what the cottonmouth moccasin count is in that lake? There must be thousands, and don't even think about the alligators. They feed at night, you know."
"I didn't think of that," Jimmy said uncertainly.
"You get your ass back into that bunkhouse and into bed, and don't you fucking wake me up again."
"I'm sorry, Ham, I-"
"Just get back in there. If the boat is still there in the morning, I'll check it out."
"Okay, if you say so. Good night."
"It better be."
Jimmy walked back to the bunkhouse, switched off the light and, apparently, went back to bed.
Ham lay on his side, staring at the boat. He lay that way for better than half an hour, then he saw a movement in the boat, and a figure sat up. There, in the moonlight, was Holly.
"Oh, shit," Ham said aloud.
Holly was on one of the boat's seats now.
Ham stood up and waved her off. "Get out of here," he whispered loudly. "Go on, get out." He hoped his voice would carry over the water. Then he saw her arm go back, and she threw something. It arced high, then fell into the water, about ten yards out. Ham immediately marked the spot, taking a reference line from the corner of the bunkhouse through the spot where he stood. He bent down, found a good-sized rock and marked his position with it.
"Get out of here," he whispered hoarsely, waving her off.
She moved forward in the dinghy again, keeping low, and slowly, the dinghy turned and started moving toward the eastern shore of the lake.
Ham lay down again and pulled the blanket over himself.
When he woke up, the sun was rising and he was sore all over. It had been a long time since he had slept on the ground, and it didn't agree with his aging bones. He stood up and looked out at the lake. The dinghy was gone, to his relief, and a northerly breeze had sprung up. He heard a door behind him slam.
"You awake?" Jimmy called out.
"Yeah."
Jimmy came down to the water's edge and stood beside Ham. "What happened to the dinghy?"
"A breeze came up during the night," Ham replied. "I guess it blew away."
"Was there anything fishy about it?"
"Nah, it was just an empty dinghy. Somebody didn't tie it up good, I guess."
"I guess. You want some breakfast?"
"In a minute; I'm just enjoying the sunrise." Jimmy left him there, and Ham kept looking out at the lake. He saw Holly paddle away.
Holly and Harry stopped at a roadside restaurant west of Orchid Beach and were having breakfast.
"How the hell is Ham going to get the phone, if you threw it in the lake?" Harry asked.
"I didn't throw it in the lake on purpose, Harry," Holly replied. "I was in an awkward position in the dinghy, and it didn't go as far as it was supposed to. Don't worry, Ham will get it. I saw him mark the position, and it won't be hard to find. The water's probably only three or four feet deep there."
"You almost got your ass caught, didn't you?"
"No, I didn't. Somebody in the barracks woke up and came outside. Ham dealt with it. I waited until he was back inside for half an hour before I got out of there. And the wind helped me get back."
"You know how much that telephone cost?" Harry demanded.
"No, and neither do you, Harry. Now get off my back and eat your breakfast."
Harry took out his new, scrambled cell phone and called the house. "What's up?" he asked, when Eddie answered.
"Nothing all night. I guess they slept soundly. There are people in the house now, so I guess they're having breakfast."
"We'll be back in an hour or so." Harry punched off and hinted to Holly. "You're sure the phone won't get wet?"
"Harry, it was in a sealed plastic bag. Now shut up about it and eat your breakfast."
"I don't suppose you thought to check the signal strength on the phone."
"I did, and it was dodgy-only two bars on the display."
Harry opened his cell phone again, called his office in Miami and ordered that a portable cell be set up as near as possible to the north shore of Lake Winachobee.
Holly felt awful about throwing the phone short, but she wasn't about to let Harry know it. She hoped to hell Ham could recover it.
49
Ham stood at one end of the airstrip and watched through the sights of the Barrett's rifle as a jeep towed a nearly wrecked car across the opposite end, four thousand feet away. The car was moving at about twenty miles an hour, he reckoned.