Well, not this trip.
Cat took a deep breath and upended her second shot. A little loopy, she was glad to see the waitress arrive with her nachos. Steam billowed into the air from the plate before her, and the tantalizing fragrance of melting cheese and spicy chilies reminded Cat she was starving.
Joan caught Debbie’s eye and motioned for her to return to their table. She did, with the barfly in tow.
As she took her seat she said, “Jeff, this is Joan and Cat, the best friends a gal ever had.”
Cat scrutinized Deb. How much more tequila had she downed at the bar?
“Will you join us, Jeff?” Joan invited, removing her purse from the empty fourth hammock at their table.
“Thanks,” Jeff said.
“Have you eaten?” Cat asked to be polite as she used her fork to detach a tortilla chip from a mound of cheese and salsa.
“You ladies go ahead,” Jeff said, placing his drink on the table. “I’m waiting for some buddies.”
“Jeff crews on a private sailboat and knows these waters well,” Deb said as she squeezed mayo on top of the lettuce and tomato on her mahimahi sandwich.
“How big is the boat?” Joan asked before taking a bite of a giant hamburger.
“Eighty feet. She’s in dry dock for a week, so I’ve got some free time.”
“He was telling me about a fabulous anchorage in the Biminis where we need to go,” Deb said. “Tell them, Jeff.”
“Yeah, I highly recommend Gun Cay if you have enough draft.”
“Draft?” Deb asked.
“How deep your keel goes down in the water,” Jeff explained. “You don’t want to run aground. The water depth in Gun Cay is about ten feet, so it’s dicey at low tide for the Ocean Watch.”
“Ocean Watch is the boat you work on?” Cat asked.
“Right. Do you know your draft?”
“Six feet,” Joan said.
“Then you’ll have no problem. There’s seldom another boat to interfere with your serenity. At least, now that the busy winter season is over.”
“I like that idea,” Cat said.
“Crowded anchorages can ruin a vacation,” Jeff said with a nod. “And with no one else around, you ladies can enjoy the sun au naturel, one of the best things about cruising.”
“I don’t know about that,” Joan said. “We have a male captain.”
“I doubt if he’d mind,” Jeff said with a laugh. “Anyway, the water is so clear in Gun Cay, you can see every detail on the bottom from the deck of Ocean Watch. There’s plenty of conch, interesting fish, great snorkeling. The interior of the island is like a jungle with tons of birds if you’re a birder, and there’s a fabulous sandy beach. You can take the dinghy ashore and have a bonfire and barbecue at night. Killer sunsets are another plus.”
“Doesn’t it sound like heaven, guys?” Deb asked.
“Is it far away?” Cat asked, surprised by Debbie’s enthusiasm, more like the old Deb she remembered from their college days. If this pristine anchorage was doable, why not?
“It’s an easy half day or so sail from here, the perfect shakedown cruise to learn about your temporary home.”
“But I thought we decided to stay in the Keys,” Joan said before biting into a French fry.
“Jeff says we won’t find a peaceful anchorage in the Keys,” Debbie said.
“Not like this one, anyway,” Jeff added. “It’s our favorite spot to drop a hook in the Bahamas.”
“It does sound awesome,” Cat said with a glance at Joan, who appeared to have doubts about the new idea.
“There are my friends now.” Jeff stood and waved his arm to catch the attention of two other men who threaded their way through the crowded bar toward him.
“What do you think about Gun Cay, Joanie?” Cat asked.
“I think our captain will object to a change in plans.” Joan eyed the two newcomers, and then grinned. “And I think we’re about to have a party.”
JAVI JERKED AWAKE at the sound of laughter drifting through the open hatch. He reached for his service weapon, senses instantly on alert.
He released the gun when he realized where he was and that a group of obviously inebriated people were making their way down Spree’s dock. Illuminating his watch in the dark, he cursed. 1:00 a.m. Damned inconsiderate of these jerks to make so much noise this late on a dock full of live-aboards, some with families.
He gazed through the hatch at stars twinkling in the dark sky. Could these drunken revelers be his charterers? He heard male voices, but maybe the ladies had hooked up and invited new lovers to spend the night on Spree.
Why not? They were on holiday.
“There she is,” a woman said with a touch of admiration. “That’s our Spree.”
“She’s got beautiful lines,” said a male voice.
“Shh!” another woman said, trying to whisper but utterly failing.
Laughter. More whispers and ineffective shushes. Javi resisted the urge to go up top and see what was going on. After several minutes of conversation and a mention of someone needing to get to bed, he heard goodbyes.
A clumsy thud sounded overhead in Spree’s cockpit, followed by giggles and more shushing. Footsteps clomped down the companionway steps as his charterers descended into the main saloon. Fortunately, he’d already closed the door to his quarter-berth cabin. They spoke in subdued tones, at least making an attempt to be quiet, although the occasional laugh broke through.
Reminding himself these women were on vacation and that he’d given them permission to stay aboard tonight, he waited for them to settle in their bunks.
As their hushed conversation continued, he caught mention of an ex-husband they all considered the devil incarnate. Javi wondered which one the ex belonged to, but doors closed, indicating they’d entered their cabins. Faint voices reached him from the master suite shared by Joan and Debbie. Irish, the redhead with the porcelain skin, had opted for the smaller cabin with bunk beds.
The ache in his thigh jerked him back to the present. He’d done what strengthening exercises he could do without a gym, and maybe he’d overdone the reps to compensate. He was seriously pissed about how long his recovery was taking. Two months in from the shooting, and he still wasn’t a hundred percent.
The worst thing wasn’t the pain.
