It felt good to get out into the warm Caribbean night once more — to enjoy the star-splashed sky away from the big city lights. From the moment the crew had anchored here in Marigot Bay, she’d been feeling cooped up inside the yacht. Theo told them when they’d contacted him earlier via the long distance single sideband radio that Spyder Brewster was keeping watch on the bay, so neither she nor Cole had dared venture on deck in daylight. They’d decided to wait until well after dark before making the dinghy transfer across to their own boats. Thankfully, Bonefish looked safe and secure when they’d entered the bay.

She had left Cole asleep on one of the settees in the cabin below after Hazel and Niko had retreated with their drinks to the afterdeck. She smiled again at the memory of those early morning hours spent in that big colonial four poster. She had only slept, at most, a couple of hours, curled up in a spooning position in Cole’s arms, his cheek resting against her back. She knew she should be inside the cabin catching up on her sleep, too, but she was too buzzed. She felt as though electricity were humming through her veins and firing off hundreds of random synapses in her brain.

Much as she wanted to revel in the memory of her early morning love-making, Riley could not forget the sound she’d heard when Dig wrenched her father’s head to one side. Yesterday, in order to survive and get through the day, she had tried to stuff her sorrow into a compartment and shut it out. It was time to face it. Diggory Priest had murdered her brother and her father. And he intended to kill her next. Not only did she need to stop him, but she intended to stop the entire organization that had set this moment in motion. To do that, they would need to get to Surcouf first.

She and Cole had spent most of the day with their heads bent together pouring over the journals he had brought with him in the duffel he carried. She listened as he explained his thoughts about the calendar paperweight and what this clue from his father might mean. Cole was certain they were looking for a date that when entered into the calendar would produce the name of the day of the week. If they did try the date of the supposed End of Days according to the Mayan calendar, the day of the week when the world was supposed to end 12-21-12 was a Friday. But what did that tell them?

Riley was more inclined to think the paperweight would relate to one of the coins or an earlier puzzle that the elder Thatcher had sent his son. She’d asked Cole to compile a list of all the types of coins, ciphers and puzzles his father had sent him. But it turned out all the dates on the coins were outside the forty year range of the calendar.

From out in the darkness, Riley heard the noise of an outboard cranking over, and when she glanced off the big yacht’s starboard quarter, she saw the single white light of a dinghy pulling away from Shadow Chaser. That would be Theo coming over for dinner, she thought. Hazel had invited him to join them when they’d spoken on the radio earlier.

Riley got up and headed aft to welcome Theo aboard, but Cole was already there ahead of her leaning on the aft rail watching the dinghy approach the broad swim step. She admired his dark silhouette backlit by the glow of the underwater lights that turned the water around the stern a brilliant blue.

“Hey there, Sleeping Beauty,” she said.

Cole turned around and in the pale glow of the lights. “Hey, Magee.”  He opened his arms and she stepped up and kissed him, placing her hands on his waist and then sliding them up his back as she moved into his embrace. She was only three or four inches shorter than he was and their bodies fit together so well, she rolled her hips against him in a playful little hula. He broke off the kiss and whispered, his breath hot on her ear, “That’s what I like about you, Magee. You get straight to the point.”

“We have this Marine Corps motto,” she said as she wrapped one leg around his back side. “When in doubt, empty the magazine.”

Below them, they heard the outboard engine cut off. That was followed by a thud, then the sound of feet scrambling on the teak swim step and muttered curses. Riley slid out of his embrace and leaned over the rail. Behind her, she heard Cole groan. Below her, Theo lay sprawled on the swim step, the dinghy painter wrapped around one of his legs.

Cole appeared at the rail next to her. He cleared his throat. “Nice landing,” he said.

“You can see right into the engine room down here. Damn distracting.” Theo untangled the mess, tied off the line, and climbed up the curving staircase to the afterdeck.

“Still don’t understand,” Cole said, “how you can build almost anything with those hands, but you have trouble putting one foot in front of the other.”

Theo wasn’t listening to him. He was surveying the large after deck with mini bar and the glass doors that led into the luxurious interior. “Not bad,” he said. “Not bad, at all. These friends of Captain Riley know how to travel.”

“She’s a Horizon Elegance Ninety-Four. Just launched a year ago,” Cole said.

“She’s got twin cats with over fifteen hundred horse power each,” Riley said. “We’ll introduce you to the captain, and he can show you around the bridge and engine room later.”

“Sweet!”

“Glad you approve, my man.” Cole slapped him on the back.

The door to the main salon slid open and Hazel poked her head out. “You must be Theo. Welcome aboard.” She stepped out onto the deck and shook his hand. “Your timing is impeccable. Dinner is about to be served.” She waved them inside.

When Hazel was out of earshot, Theo whistled a low appreciative note.

“Slow down, island boy,” Cole said. “She’s got a boyfriend.”

“A fellow can look, though, eh? Wow!”

Riley sighed. “She always has that effect on men.”

Cole turned to Riley, smiled and extended his arm. “After you,” he said.

As she entered the salon, Riley heard Theo’s hushed voice say, “It’s about time the two of you figured it out.”

“Figured out what?”

“That you two needed to stop knocking heads and start knocking boots.”

“What are you talking about?” Cole said.

Theo laughed and shook his head. “Mon, it’s written all over your face.”

CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

 

Aboard the Savannah Jane

March 29, 2008

7:35 p.m.

The meal reminded Riley of the many embassy dinners she had attended with her family when she was a child, only here they were five at a table that could have seated twelve. The stewardess in her crisp white uniform delivered food that looked almost too pretty to eat: fresh conch salad garnished with orchids, spicy callaloo soup, Vietnamese swordfish curry, jasmine rice, chocolate lime rum cake. It had been years since she had seen a spread like that and judging from the looks on the faces of the guys sitting on either side of her, it may have been the first time for Cole and Theo.

The dining table was separated from the plush couches and chairs of the main salon by a low, burled wood counter atop which sat a gorgeous floral arrangement. Opposite the dining table, a carved wood bar sported a gold-plated beer tap, and throughout the yacht the teak and holly floors were partially covered with thick Persian rugs. Riley had spent part of the passage across from Antigua roaming the yacht and talking to the crew. Now, she found it awkward to sit and let them wait on her. When the coffee was delivered, she asked Hazel to invite the chef and crew out for their thanks.

“You’re kidding,” Theo said when the chef turned out to be a pretty, petite redhead named Victoria who looked barely twenty years old.  “You did all that?” She blushed crimson at their applause and hurried back to the galley.

Niko offered them after dinner drinks, but Riley and Cole declined, instead asking for another espresso. “If we’re going to sail out of here soon,” Riley said, “we’ll need clear heads.”