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 Terrors of the High Seas 153
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 Melissa Good 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.”
Terrors of the High Seas 155
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.”