She let the door close with a snick and hastened back to the room.

It wasn’t really the way she’d wanted to approach, or deal with DeSalliers, but sometimes, Dar had learned, you just had to take what life offered and make the best of it. She slid her key into the door lock and turned it carefully, pushing the door open and slipping inside.

It was dark. Dar had prudently closed the shutters before she’d left, leaving the room in soothing dimness. She set the bags down on the credenza and took her sandals off, then she padded silently over to the bed and knelt down.

Kerry’s eyes were still closed and she was sleeping on her side, one arm wrapped around her pillow. Her mussed hair half-obscured her face, and Dar only just kept herself from smoothing it back. Instead, she stood up and tiptoed back to the credenza, removing the items from it and trying very hard to keep the Oreo bag from making noise.

“Uugh.” A soft groan came from the bed.

“Hey, cute stuff.” Dar set down a glass and opened the milk.

“Ugh.” Kerry lifted her head a little and peered around. “S’dark in here,” she muttered. “What time is it?”

“Eight.” Dar continued mixing her potion. “I closed the blinds.”


Terrors of the High Seas 145

“You’re a goddess.” Kerry rolled onto her back, throwing her arm over her eyes. “Jesus. I feel like a horse kicked me in the head.”

Dar finished mixing and picked up the glass, crossing back over to the bed and sitting down on the edge of it. “I’ve got something to make you feel better.”

Kerry peeked at her, seeing the glass. “Noooooo.” She pulled the covers over her head. “No…no…not…stuff.”

“C’mon.” Dar gently untangled the covers. “Kerry, honest—

it’ll work.”

“Dar, if I try to put anything in my stomach, that and everything already in there is coming up into your lap. Wanna risk it?”

“Yes. Just take a sip,” Dar coaxed.

Kerry rolled onto her side, giving Dar a piteous, miserable look. “I can’t.”

Undeterred, Dar put the glass down and eased her partner into more of an upright position. Then she picked up the glass and offered Kerry the straw she’d stuck in it.

Kerry stared dubiously at the mixture. “What is it?” All she could see was foam and dark streaks. “It doesn’t have Worcestershire sauce in it, does it?”

“No.”

Kerry put a hand over her stomach. “Dar, I really don’t think I can.”

Dar studied her, seeing the pale tinge to her skin. “Give it one try,” she requested. “Just one sip. You need to get fluids into you, love.”

Kerry sighed in resignation and maneuvered the straw over.

“How can I resist when you ask me like that?” She held her breath and took the tiniest sip possible, hoping to swallow it before her system had time to analyze what it was.

It was cold and effervescent, and it slid down a lot easier than she’d imagined it would. Cautiously, she inhaled, and then licked her lips. The taste was sweet and rich and bubbly, all at the same time, not at all what she’d expected. “What is that?”

Dar was cautiously pleased with the response. “Something my daddy taught me to make.”

Kerry took another sip, swallowed it. “Have I mentioned lately how much I love your daddy?” She felt her stomach settle and she took the glass, leaning against Dar as she sucked at its contents.

“You know what? I don’t care what it is. It’s great.”

Dar grinned in satisfaction. “Glad you like it.” She set to work gently massaging Kerry’s neck and shoulders. “Looks like it’s fixing to storm out there for a while.”

“Mm?” Kerry kept drinking, peering around Dar’s body at the closed shutters. A rumble of thunder rattled them, and she settled 146 Melissa Good back against Dar with a contented grunt. The concoction really was helping, and she felt the aching nausea ease, along with the painful cramps that had almost sent her diving for the bathroom. And why wouldn’t it? she reasoned. Along with its other ingredients, the concoction had been laced with love.

Her head still hurt, though, a dull pounding that thrummed through her body and made her resolve never to experiment with rum again. “Stick to beer, Kerry,” she murmured. “Worst thing that does is make you piddle.”

Dar massaged Kerry’s neck, working out small knots she could feel with her sensitive fingertips. “Guess who I met on the way back?”

“Not those scumbucket sneaks?”

“No. Their boss,” Dar informed her. “He wanted me to stop and talk to him.”

“And?” Kerry inquired.

“I had other things to do,” Dar told her. “But I think he’ll be back.”

“Hm.” Kerry finished her drink, sucking the last drops from the bottom of it. She gazed mournfully into the empty glass for a moment, and then looked up at her solicitous partner. “Any chance of getting another one of these?”

“You bet.” Dar grinned, very pleased with her successful plan.

“Coming right up.” She took the glass. “Think you can take some aspirin for your head now?”

Kerry thought about it. “Yeah.” She curled up on her side and watched Dar work. “What’s in the bottle?”

“Chocolate syrup.”

Kerry had to smile. “That’s a chocolate milk soda you just made.”

Dar brought it back to her. “It’s an egg cream,” she corrected.

Kerry took the glass. “But there aren’t any eggs in it.”

“Or cream,” Dar agreed amiably, handing her a couple of pills.

“It’s kind of like Welsh rabbit.”

“Ah.” Kerry swallowed the aspirin and then settled back against the headboard. Rain rattled against the window, and she was more than glad to be nestled in the dim room, with Dar to keep her company. “So you think he’ll be back, huh?”

“Yep.” Dar chuckled softly. “Then maybe we’ll get closer to the truth of this.”

Kerry listened to the thunder, her fingers idly stroking the arm Dar had curled around her. Maybe we will, she agreed silently. But not right this minute.

Lightning flashed, outlining the closed shutters.


Chapter

Thirteen

IT JUST KEPT raining. Kerry was actually kind of glad, feeling they both needed a little down time after the excitement of the previous few days. She was curled up on the bed, with her neatly bound writing diary in front of her. A half finished poem was scrawled across one page and a steaming mug rested on the nearby bedside table.

Dar was sprawled across the couch, one long leg draped along its back, the other propping up a book. She had a glass of milk nearby, and next to it, the bag of Oreo cookies sat neatly peeled open. On the table, her laptop was busily working, streams of data flicking across the screen at an alarming rate.

Kerry nibbled the end of her pen as she watched Dar read, her eyes tracing down the page, then pausing while long fingers turned it. She was dressed in a pair of soft cotton shorts and a T-shirt, and somehow managed to make even that seem attractively sexy.

How does she do that? Kerry wondered. She cocked her head and regarded her lover with bemused curiosity. What really struck her about Dar, she realized, was just how nicely proportioned she was.

Though she was tall, and her arms and legs were long, her body was also, and everything seemed to fit together just right. The white cotton showed off her tan, and as she scrolled down another page, the subtle shift of muscle under her skin was visible to Kerry’s appreciative eyes.

Kerry sighed and put her chin down on her arm, still feeling a little knocked out from the partying the night before. Her stomach wasn’t in the mood for more than tea, and her head hadn’t quite stopped throbbing. The discomfort was making it hard for her to concentrate on her writing, and besides, it was really a lot more pleasant just to lie around and look at Dar.

She has such a nice profile. Kerry blinked dreamily. It was all angles and clean, sharp planes, with a nice nose and well shaped lips. And the eyes, of course. Kerry smiled.

“Ker?”

Uh oh. “Hmm?”


148 Melissa Good

“What’s that goofy grin for?”

“Was I goofily grinning?” Kerry rolled onto her back and tugged the covers over her pajama-clad body. “I can’t finish this poem.” She changed the subject. “I got stuck in the middle.”

“What’s it about?” Dar slipped a bookmark into her book and put it down, turning on her side and focusing her attention on Kerry.

Ah, those eyes. Kerry suddenly found herself lost in them, until the rising brow over one made her realize she was staring like a loon. “Sorry, what was the question?”

“You still feeling the rum?” Dar asked curiously.

Kerry put her head down on her arm. “Maybe,” she admitted.

“I just feel a little silly, I guess.”

Dar got up and walked over to the bed. She sat down next to Kerry and rubbed her midriff through the covers. “Want to try some toast or cereal?”

Kerry curled herself around Dar instead, and rested her head on Dar’s thigh. “I think I just want you.” She planted a gentle kiss on the tan skin and closed her eyes.

Dar had never considered herself a sentimental person, but since she’d met Kerry she’d felt like she was living inside a circle of perpetually adorable Golden Retriever puppies all the time. It worried her sometimes. Dar felt parts of the image she’d always had of herself falling away and disappearing, and it was a little unsettling to know it was happening and be helpless to stop it.

Ah well. Dar draped her arm over Kerry’s shoulders and resigned herself to it. “Tell you what,” she said. “Let me go get my laptop, and we can take a look at what we’ve got so far.”

Kerry reluctantly released her and sat up. “Okay.”

Dar got to her feet and retrieved the device, then returned. She sat down on the bed and leaned back, resting the laptop on her thighs. Kerry squirmed over and settled next to her. They both looked at the screen as Dar smoothly keyed in a request.

“Okay.” Dar reviewed her programmatic results. “What I was looking for—”

“Was a link between the piracy and DeSalliers,” Kerry murmured, reaching out and touching the screen. “Nice code, honey. I like that recursive parse.”

“You always say such romantic things to me,” Dar remarked. “I love that.”

“Nerd.”

“Thanks.” Dar smirked at the screen a little. “Let’s see what it found.” She brought up two screens and locked them into concurrency, scrolling down evenly and looking from one to the other. “That bartender said there had been six; there’ve been more than two dozen. Damn.”


Terrors of the High Seas 149

Kerry was shocked. Two dozen hijackings in the area, and no one had said anything. That information bordered on substantiating a definite collusion. “Are those from the police files?” she asked, pointing to the piracy records.

“You’re joking, right?” Dar looked at her. “No. Those are the insurance filings.” She nudged a key. “Ah. Looks like the insurance underwriters are starting to get suspicious. This one’s pending investigation.”

“Hm. So the hijackers will get their money, but the guy they hit might not?”

Dar shook her head. “No, they’ll have to pay out, unless they think the owner’s in cahoots with the pirates just to make a claim.

Most of the guys who can afford to buy boats like that wouldn’t bother.” She ran a cross-check. “I was hoping I’d see a correlation between DeSallier’s salvage operations and the missing boats, but it looks like this is the first time his bunch has shown up in this area.”

“Mm.” Kerry frowned. “Yeah.” She rested her chin on Dar’s shoulder. “Can you plot the piracies graphically?”

Dar studied the data, then she brought up a code screen and started typing rapidly, stopping only to tab to a different window and clip some data before she resumed programming. After a few minutes, she ran the program and a new window appeared with a somewhat rough outline of the islands, the space around them dotted with ominous little plus signs. “Ain’t pretty, but there ya go.”

“Hmmm.” Kerry studied the graphic, then sighed. “No real pattern, huh?”

“Nope.”

“We’re hitting big nulls here, Dar.”

“Yeah,” Dar had to admit. “So much for being a nerd.”

A knock startled them both. Kerry felt Dar’s body stiffen, and she put a hand on her arm. “I’ll get that.” Before Dar could protest, she rolled off the other side of the bed and walked to the door, running the fingers of one hand through her hair self-consciously.