'Business, I'm afraid. Though I'm going to take advantage of the beach.'
'What kind of work do you do?'
'I'm a judge.'
The woman looked impressed. 'I've never met a judge before.'
Quinn smiled. 'Well, this is what we look like.'
She laughed. 'Where are you a judge?'
'Portland, Oregon.'
'I hear that Portland is a beautiful city. I'd like to visit someday.'
'I like it.'
Suddenly, the woman looked confused. 'You can't be a judge on St. Jerome, can you?'
'No. I can only hear cases in Oregon.'
'That's what I thought. So what kind of business do you have on the island?'
'I'm speaking at a legal seminar. I only hope I can keep my audience interested. My lecture is going to seem awfully dull compared to those white sand beaches outside the hotel.'
'I'm certain you'll hold their interest, Judge . . . Say, I don't know your name. Mine is Andrea. Andrea Chapman.'
'Richard Quinn,' he said as they shook hands. 'Dick, actually. And please don't call me Judge. That's for the courtroom.'
'Okay, Dick. Are you staying at The Palms?'
'No. I'm at the Bay Reef Resort.'
'Oh, the new one. They were just finishing it the last time I was on the island.'
'It looks beautiful in the brochures. Are you going to St. Jerome on business?'
'God, no. This trip is strictly R and R. A friend of mine owns a villa on the island. He lets me use it when I need to get away.'
'A boyfriend?'
Andrea giggled. 'Freddy is gay. Flaming. But he's a great friend and one of my best customers. We met at a leather goods show in Milan about five years ago. He owns a catalog business and he really pushes my belts.'
'Is the villa near my hotel?'
'No. It's on the other side of St. Jerome. You should see it. The place is unbelievable. The floors are these different-colored marbles, the walls are all glass, and the view is to die for. It's right on the ocean on this cliff. When I wake up and pull the drapes it's like I'm floating in space.'
'It sounds fantastic.'
'It is.' Andrea leaned over toward Quinn and dropped her voice an octave. 'There's a story behind the villa. The way Freddy got it. Some Guatemalan drug lord owned it, but he was busted in Rhode Island of all places. He gave it to this lawyer in Boston that Freddy knows as part of his fee and Freddy bought it from the lawyer for a song. I don't think the lawyer ever saw it. He just wanted cash.'
Andrea lowered her voice even more.
'The last time I used the place, I found a stash of coke hidden behind a phony panel in the bathroom. It scared the hell out of me.'
'I can imagine. Did you turn it over to the police?'
'On St. Jerome? You're kidding? I wouldn't go within a mile of an island cop if I was being murdered. St. Jerome is great, but everyone--and I mean everyone--in the government is on the take. If I told the police about the dope, I'd either be in jail or penniless now.'
'So what did you do?'
'Flushed it as quickly as I could. Then I scrubbed down the toilet bowl to make sure there wasn't a trace of the stuff left. It was my last day on St, Jerome, thank God. If it had been my first, I would probably have been on the next flight out. As it was, I didn't sleep a wink. I kept expecting Governor Alvarez's Gestapo to kick in the door and throw me in prison.'
Quinn laughed. 'If you were so frightened, why did you come back?'
'You wouldn't ask that if you'd been on St. Jerome before. The place has got to be the most beautiful island in the world. Besides, Freddy swore to me that the place is clean now. He was just as scared as I was when I told him about the coke. Can you imagine what it would cost an American to buy his way out of a drug beef?'
Chapman paused. 'Say, are you going to be working all the time?'
'Not the first two days.'
Quinn realized where the conversation might be going and his wedding ring suddenly felt very heavy on his finger. He decided to make his marital status clear to Andrea.
'My wife was supposed to come with me, but something came up at the last minute. She's a lawyer, too, and there was a business emergency.'
'That's too bad. I bet she would have loved St. Jerome. There's a lot to do if you know your way around.'
'Such as?'
'Do you snorkel or scuba dive?'
'No. I'm a lousy swimmer.'
'You don't have to swim great to snorkel. And there are these fabulous reefs where you can see all these tropical fish. You've never seen such bright colors,' Andrea said excitedly. 'Electric blues, iridescent greens. It's wilder than a Missoni fashion show.'
'That sounds terrific. Are any of these reefs near my hotel?'
'Oh, sure. But the best one is on my side of the island, away from the hotels, where Freddy's villa is, off Cala de Almas Desoladas.'
'What was that?' asked Quinn, who spoke no Spanish.
'The Cove of Lost Souls. Freddy said it's called that because of a ship that was wrecked on the reef in 1700 something. The captain was in love with a beautiful woman. They were going to be married. On their wedding day, the bride was kidnapped by pirates. The captain chased the pirates to St. Jerome just as a terrible storm struck the island and the captain's ship and the pirate-ship were wrecked. Everyone died, including the Captain and his bride.
'Freddy told me that if you go to the cove at night, sometimes you can hear the souls of the captain and his bride calling to each other across the water. Isn't that sad and romantic?'
'Yes, it is.'
'There's more, though. Freddy says that there have been mysterious disappearances in the cove. Not often. Once or twice, every ten years or so. They occur when lovers come to the beach at night on the anniversary of the shipwreck. They swim out toward the reef. One minute they're there, the next they're gone. The locals think that the lost souls on the reef are harvesting other souls to keep them company.'
'It's probably cramps,' Quinn said with a smile.
'See, that's the lawyer in you talking,' Andrea scolded Quinn. 'Lawyers are so unromantic.' She paused as if debating whether to say more. 'Do you want to hear something spooky?'
'Sure.'
'The last time I stayed on St. Jerome, a day before I found the coke, I went down to the cove at sunset and waited around to see if I would hear the lost souls calling. At first, I just heard what you usually hear on the beach at night, the surf and the wind. Soon after the sun went down, the temperature dropped and I got cold. I was just starting to leave when something very strange happened.'
Andrea paused. She looked distant.
'What's the matter?' Quinn asked with concern.
'I was remembering the voices. Only they weren't really voices. It was more like a moaning sound and it was so sad.'
Quinn was weaned on logic and had the overly rational mind of the contract lawyer, which has no cubbyhole where the supernatural can dwell comfortably.
'Do you think it might have been the wind?' he asked tolerantly.
'I knew you'd say that. Everyone I tell this story to says the same thing. If you'd been there, though, you'd know that it wasn't the wind. That sound ...' Andrea shivered. 'It was inside my bones.' She shook her head. 'I just
