A Quarter for a Kiss (32 page)

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Authors: Mindy Starns Clark

BOOK: A Quarter for a Kiss
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“How do you feel about that?” I asked.

“Well, Callie, if you think you’re ready, then I say go for it. Just don’t jump in too quickly.”

“Too quickly? I’ve known Tom for several years, Dad.”

“You’ve known him that long as a boss. Maybe a little less than that as a friend. How long have you known him as…as a love interest?”

I hesitated.

“Not very long,” I admitted.

“Well, there you go. I don’t care how well you know someone as a friend, once romance enters the picture, you practically have to start back at square one. You’ve got a lot to learn about each other. I just want to see you take your time.”

“Okay, Dad,” I replied, grateful for my father and my mother and how very much they cared for me.

By the time we hung up the phone, the boat holding Jodi was just pulling away from the dock. I raised my hand to give them a wave and then put it back down just as fast when I saw the name painted on the stern of their boat.

Enigma
.

Thirty-Four

I ran.

By the time I reached our boat, the
Enigma
was just pulling out of the marina and into open water. I had a decision to make. I could try and follow, or I could stand there and watch them go. At least they hadn’t spotted me.

Quickly, I ran to the cockpit of our boat, put the key in the ignition, and started the engine. I was about to put the boat into reverse when I realized I hadn’t even untied it yet!

Hands shaking, I dashed forward and untied the ropes and brought in the bumpers, and then I came back to the cockpit, put my hand on the throttle, and gently tried to ease it backward.

Nothing happened. The throttle was stuck straight up. I tried pushing it more forcefully, and then I realized there was a button on the side I needed to press with my thumb first. Once I did that, the throttle popped back too easily and I jerked hard out of the slip.

Fortunately there was no one behind me, and I turned the wheel to keep from backing straight up. Suddenly, I had a memory of Bryan in the days before he died, trying to teach me to drive our little motorboat.

If you can drive a car, you can drive a boat
, he had said to me then.

“All right, Bryan,” I said out loud to him now. “I’m trusting you on this one.”

Of course, I hadn’t ever been instructed on a craft so huge—nor on a sea so wide! I eased the throttle forward and chugged down the row, getting a feel for the steering. I decided I would take this as far as the open water, and then if I didn’t feel comfortable with it, I could just turn back around.

When I reached the exit, I scanned the horizon for sight of the
Enigma
. There were plenty of boats out there, but there hadn’t been anything particularly notable about the craft I had glimpsed in the short time I had seen it—other than the name. Was it possible it was just coincidence, that there was more than one boat here called
Enigma?
Somehow, I didn’t think so. Heart still pounding, I inched forward in the water, trying to figure out which way to turn. Finally, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Jodi’s number.

“Hello?” she yelled.

“Jodi?”

“Hold on!”

The noise on her end diminished as I guessed she went inside. Things were still fairly loud at my end, however, and I had to strain to hear her.

“This is Jodi,” she said in a more normal voice. “Who is this?”

“It’s Callie.”

“Callie! Hey. What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” I replied. “Just thought I’d check in. Whatcha doing?”

If it might have been odd for me to call Jodi simply to chat, she didn’t seem to notice.

“Not much. Fawn and I are going over to St. Thomas,” she said. “We have some errands to run.”

“Oh. Are you on the ferry?”

I wanted very much for her not to lie to me.

“No, Zach is taking us in his boat.”

“His boat?”

“Well, the boat he captains for. It’s really gorgeous.”

I swallowed hard.
Zach was the captain of the boat that belonged to Dianne?

“I thought you said Zach was a masseuse.”

“He is. He’s sort of a ‘jack of all trades, master of one.’ At least that’s his joke.”

I tried to think of a way to end the conversation quickly. Jodi was going to St. Thomas with Zach on the boat that belonged to Dianne Streep. How all of that fit into the puzzle, I hadn’t a clue.

“Okay, well I’ve got to run,” I said. “Just thought I’d say hi.”

“Don’t forget Miss Lucy’s tonight, if you want. We’re all going to meet there around eight.”

Suddenly, that didn’t sound like such a bad idea. Considering what I had learned, it seemed imperative that we get to know Zach just a little bit better.

“We’ll try to make it,” I told her, asking for directions, and then we said our goodbyes.

I pushed the throttle all the way forward and checked my compass and my watch. I would go exactly ten minutes toward St. Thomas. If I hadn’t caught up with them by then, I would turn around and come back.

Though the engines were loud, I needed to call Tom. I couldn’t even imagine what might happen if he came back to the slip and saw that the boat and I were both gone.

When I reached him, he said he was sitting in the waiting room and he had a feeling he might be there for a long time. He was in a lot of pain, he told me, otherwise he would give up and leave.

“You stay there as long as it takes. You really don’t want it to get infected.”

“What’s all that noise?”

“I had to take the boat out for a bit. Long story. I’ll tell you later.”

“Okay, Callie,” he replied. “I guess you know what you’re doing.”

I stifled a laugh at the absurdity of it, because no, I didn’t know what I was doing at all! Still, I was willing to give it a try.

Steering with one hand, I reached into the glove compartment to dig out the little binoculars we had put there. Holding them over my eyes, I tried to focus on a boat that was speeding across the waves up ahead. It seemed smaller than the
Enigma
, and when I spotted a family with small children on board, I realized that it wasn’t it. Adjusting my direction a bit to the left, I pressed onward, eager to get close enough to take a look at the next boat.

That one was it, I just had a feeling. As I peered through the binoculars, I could see the two women stretched out on the deck in their bikinis. Zach was at the wheel, his body muscular and tan in khaki shorts.

I cut back on my speed, glad that they weren’t going all that fast. That made it easier for me to follow them. I found a speed that kept me just far enough back so they wouldn’t be able to recognize me. I would simply go wherever they went, knowing that with each passing mile I was becoming more and more invested in the entire outing.

It was past 3:00 by the time we finally reached St. Thomas. I had no idea what I would do once I got there. It was hard enough trying to follow them without being seen, but it was ten times harder doing it while driving a craft I didn’t really know how to drive. When they turned off and started aiming for a private yacht club, I kept steering straight even as I made note of the location.

I kept going, praying that a public marina would turn up soon. I passed another yacht club, and then right beyond that was “Mike’s Marina.” I thought I’d give it a try.

Slowing way down, I called out to a man standing on a dock.

“You got any transient slips?”

“One through ten!” he shouted, pointing to the right.

I inched along, going so slow that it sounded as though the motor might stall any minute. When I reached the slips, I was horrified to find they were all full except one. That meant I would have to dock the boat with the utmost care, squeezing between a narrow dock and a big, beautiful sailboat called the
Sammy Bean
.

Hands shaking, I tried to remember everything I had seen Tom do. Aiming into the slip, I pulled the throttle up and then slammed into reverse. I did it a little soon, however, leaving me dead in the water just out of reach of the slip.

I tried again, easing the throttle forward ever-so-slowly and then pulling it up to neutral. I missed the sailboat, but the bow slid into the dock with a definite bump. Had I been landing a plane, the FAA would have grounded me.

Fortunately, there didn’t seem to be anyone around to notice or comment. I manned the ropes by myself, quickly tossing out the bumpers. Locking the cabin, I simply grabbed a tote bag and stuffed into it the binoculars, my wallet, my cell phone, and the keys to the boat.

Glad that I was still wearing my socks and sneakers, I set off to the office and put the requisite $50 charge on a credit card. With a bit of surprise, I realized that was practically the first charge I had had to make during this entire investigation.

Once I was done there, I took off running, aiming out of the marina and onto a main road. Trying to make like a jogger, I sped in the direction of the yacht club and then faltered when I got there. Was it their final destination, or had they simply “parked” their big boat and walked into town?

I caught a cab at the nearest intersection, glad that it was just a car and not a van like the cab we had taken from the airport. I told the driver to take me to the Golden Sails Yacht Club. He turned around and looked at me.

“It’s right dere!” he said.

“I know,” I told him, “I just want you to circle through. I’m trying to find someone.”

“Whatever you say, missy.”

He did as I asked, but there was a security guard at the main gate.

“That’s all right,” I said as the cabbie rolled down his window to speak to the guard. “We can turn around right here and head into town.”

“Sorry, mon, just turning around,” the cabbie said to the guard. He let us through but stood there and watched as we turned and came back out.

“Where to now?”

I asked him which way someone would go from there to get into town.

“Up dis way,” he said, pointing to the left.

“Okay, go that way, then,” I told him. “But go slowly.”

On the main road, the driver started to pull over and pick up another passenger. I whipped a five-dollar bill out of my wallet and held it out to him.

“I prefer to ride alone,” I said. “Five bucks for every passenger you don’t pick up.”

“Okay, works for me,” the driver said, taking the money and grinning a toothless grin in the mirror.

After a few turns, we found ourselves deep in the heart of Charlotte Amalie. The town was beautiful and crowded. According to my cabdriver, it was a big cruise day, with three monster-sized ships currently in port.

“Most of these folks be gone by five o’clock,” he said. “Dey just here for the day.”

As we drove along one of the main drags, I studied the crowd for the sight of the elusive trio. Then I spotted them: Zach and Jodi and Fawn, standing in the doorway of a record store, arguing with the vendor about a CD. I quickly looked the other way to hide my face.

“Turn left at the next intersection,” I instructed the driver, and as he did I pulled out the appropriate fare plus $20 for four more skipped passengers. “You can pull over here and let me out.”

He seemed pleased with the amount I handed him.

“I’ll be around town all day if you want me to come back and get you,” he said in a lilting accent. “Anytime, anyplace, you just name it.”

I started to brush him off and then thought better of it.

“How about right here in half an hour?” I asked. “If I’m not back, don’t wait, and here’s another five for your trouble.”

“You got it, missy.”

He pulled away as I ducked into the nearest gift shop. I was still wearing Jodi’s ridiculously bright bathing suit cover-up. Most of the things in the store were fairly vivid as well, but I found a long white T-shirt and threw it onto the counter with a rope-and-shell belt. As a final afterthought, I added a nice straw hat.

The sales clerk was chatty, but I mostly ignored her as I kept looking out of the store at the sidewalk. Any minute now I expected the trio I was following to come walking by, and I needed to be ready to go. Once I had paid for my purchases, I changed right there, stripping off the cover-up, pulling on the T-shirt over my bathing suit, and then belting it and adding the straw hat. I put the cover-up in the bag, thanked the surprised women, and walked out the door.

Anxious not to be seen, I slipped on my sunglasses, walked to the corner, and stopped at a postcard rack. Pretending to study the row of pictures, I was really intent on looking at the record store across the street. I was just thinking I had lost them entirely when I recognized Fawn near the doorway, reading the back of a CD.

Ducking into the corner store, I let out a deep breath and stood where I could see through the window to where they were.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” a man asked, but I told him no thanks, that I was just looking.

I feigned interest in some St. Thomas hot plates, all the while waiting to see the three of them emerge from the record store. Finally they did, walking along and talking as if they really were just running errands.

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