Kerry nodded briefly. “I know. It’s not like they got rich off it,”
she admitted. “But I can’t go along with the fact they think no one 262 Melissa Good gets hurt. Someone does, Dar. People could get hurt; they could even get hurt themselves.”
“Like they almost did the other day.” Dar sighed. “Let’s save that problem for after we solve this one, huh? I’m about out of crusader coupons at the moment.”
Dar had a point. “Okay,” she concurred. “Let me go talk to him.
I know he’s under a lot of stress. I can imagine how I’d be acting if I were in his place.” She got up, leaned over and brushed Dar’s lips with her own, then eased past her partner’s outstretched legs and headed for the door.
Dar exhaled heavily, the air puffing her dark locks up off her forehead as she slumped back into the couch and regarded her laptop. She still felt like an idiot for getting into the situation, but her more practical side had taken over and put itself in charge—at least for the moment. Logic made a lot better platform for problem solving than hysteria.
Dar let her head drop back against the couch, easing a hand behind her neck and rubbing the tense muscles just at the base of her skull. “What next?” she asked the ceiling. Her instincts were urging her to action, but aside from the digital searching her programs were doing on her behalf, she wasn’t sure if there was anything else she could do until DeSalliers called again.
Calling the police captain crossed her mind, but Dar rejected that idea out of hand. Even if she thought he might be on the up and up, and would keep the contact under wraps, she had no such confidence in anyone he worked with. Besides, she wasn’t sure he was honest, and she wasn’t about to risk Bud’s life on it. After all, the people there had no reason to trust or help her any more than they did DeSalliers. We’re both just rich Americans, aren’t we? Dar’s face scrunched into a frown as she applied that label to herself and didn’t like the sound of it.
Charlie was right, she realized, but not for the reason he thought. She really didn’t understand condoning piracy, but it had nothing to do with not knowing what scraping by was. She’d spent her whole childhood knowing that intimately. Maybe she’d just never bought into the whole Robin Hood thing.
That brought up the question of whether DeSalliers would make good on his threat. He’d avoided using brutal force in their first encounters, but as things had progressed, she’d gotten a sense that he was getting closer to crossing the line.
Okay, Dar, she lectured herself, let’s think of this in more familiar terms. She got up and picked up her milk glass, carrying it back to the galley. “DeSalliers has a contract he’s got to execute. He makes good on it, and he wins—he stays in business, he’s got the money to keep going, life is good.” She poured another glass and stood there sipping from it. “He probably figured this to be a no-brainer. He’s Terrors of the High Seas 263
got power, he’s got people, just head down here and rope off the wreck, dive it, destroy it, bring back proof, and he’s home free.”
She poked in the basket and retrieved one of the cookies Kerry had made earlier, dunking it in her milk and taking a bite of it.
“Think of it from his perspective, Dar. You think you’re frustrated? Picture how he has to feel—he’s got Bob to deal with, then he runs into you and you wreck his boat, then you keep him from Bob again, then your friends enlist with Bob to mess him up, then you call his contract holder and tell them he’s a loser.” Dar finished the cookie and fished around for another one. “Bet he’s got a stuffed Rottweiler with my name pinned to it that he’s using for target practice.”
The thought put her in a slightly better mood. “Okay—so now I’ve got to convince him I’ve really got something he’s looking for, long enough to trade it for Bud or at least find out where he’s got him.” She licked her lips. “Just like bluffing out a competitor, Dar.
You can do that.”
What was DeSalliers expecting? He was expecting her to run scared, back off, wait for him to make all the moves. All right. Dar took the basket back to the couch, then sat down cross-legged and retrieved the laptop. She opened her mail and started typing.
KERRY EASED OUT of the cabin and spotted Charlie sitting on the stern bench they used for gearing up. She walked over and took a seat next to him, resting her arm on the back of the boat and gazing out across the marina.
“Y’know,” Charlie spoke first, “that’s why Bud never could stand Andy, I’m guessing.”
“What do you mean?” Kerry asked.
“He had everything. Everybody liked him; he was real good at what he done; he had a good marriage, had a kid he was proud of…
He made it seem like everybody should be just like him.” He glanced at the door. “She’s just like him.”
Kerry thought about that. “I wish more people were like him,”
she remarked. “I wish my father had been.”
Charlie shifted and looked at her.
“When I first met Dar and we were getting to know each other, every time she talked about her father, deep down in my heart, I found it hard to believe what she was saying.” Kerry spoke softly.
“Because my own experience had been so different.”
“Dar got off lucky,” Charlie said. “Most of us don’t.”
“True,” Kerry agreed. “But then I met Andy.” She turned her head and met Charlie’s eyes. “He gave me something my family never had, and I cherish that, and him, more than I can tell you.”
The ex-sailor leaned back and rested his arm on the stern 264 Melissa Good railing. “I’m not gonna apologize for us doing what we had to do to keep our heads up,” he said. “I got a kid to take care of.”
Kerry regarded him. “I’m not into judging people. I’ve been on the receiving end of that too many times myself,” she said. “I think the important thing right now is just to get Bud out of that nutball’s clutches and resolve this.”
One of Charlie’s eyebrows twitched. “Thought you weren’t inta judging,” he drawled. “Calling that sonofabitch a nutball like that.”
Kerry produced a faint grin.
“Anyhoo…” Charlie shook his head. “Dar’s just like Andy, got that same attitude. Reminded me of him real strong there for a minute. I know she’s right, a little, but sometimes you just ain’t got no choices in life except the bad ones.”
Kerry tipped her head back and looked up at the sky. “I know,” she said. “I’ve made some of them.”
Charlie studied her. “You ain’t old enough to make that case, lady,” he told her bluntly. “Come back here in twenty years and we’ll talk.”
Kerry merely smiled. “Dar has a very strong sense of right and wrong, and you’re right— she got that from her father.” She propped her foot up against the railing. “I, on the other hand, only got a sense of wrong from mine. But no matter who was needing what, those guys were pointing guns at us, and let me tell you something, they’re lucky I wasn’t pointing one back.”
Charlie sat up. “Huh?’
“Mm.” Kerry looked steadily at him. “I would have shot them.”
“They never hurt no one,” the ex-sailor said. “No one. Them guns were just for show.”
“I don’t care.” Sea green eyes took on a cool tint. “They were threatening the only thing in the world that matters to me.” She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. “So that’s the way that is.”
Charlie scratched his jaw thoughtfully. He studied Kerry’s profile for a few minutes in silence as the boat rocked gently under both of them, the rigging clanking softly in the warm air. Finally, he half smiled. “Feisty thang, huh?”