Another blessing: Agent Vasco’s job on St. John is finished. She goes back to Puerto Rico.
Adios, Irene thinks.
Swan Seeley tells Baker what happened between her and Duncan Huntley, and Baker nearly drives out to the East End to give the guy the thrashing he deserves. When Baker tells Ayers the story, she mentions that Dunk routinely waits for Tilda across the street from La Tapa after service. Baker can jump out of the shadows and scare him to death.
But then fate intervenes and Baker bumps into Dunk at Pine Peace Market. Duncan is buying vape pods and Baker is buying pizza-flavored Pringles for Floyd and Ben and Jerry’s Red Velvet Cake ice cream for himself. When Dunk sees Baker, he gives him a little bro-nod but it’s clear he can’t really place him. He’s not important enough for Duncan to remember, Baker supposes. He stands behind Dunk in line, glaring at the back of his neck. Duncan seems shorter than he did when Baker met him on the plane, and he’s downright scrawny. What does Tilda see in this guy? Is it just the money?
Dunk leaves the store and Baker sets his chips and ice cream down and says to Nestor, the cashier, “I’ll be right back.” He follows Dunk out and catches him as he pulls open the driver’s-side door of a forest-green G-wagon.
“Hey,” Baker says. “Duncan? Dunk?”
Dunk turns. “G’day.”
“It’s Baker. Baker Steele? My little boy and I met you on the flight from Houston. You gave me a ride over here on your boat?”
“Ah, yeah?” Dunk says, though it’s not clear he remembers who Baker is. “How ya doin’, mate?”
Baker reaches out his hand, and when Dunk takes it, Baker squeezes as hard as he can and holds on a little longer than he should. “I’m good. Real good. Except for a couple of things.”
“Sorry, mate, wish I could shoot the shit but I’m in kind of a hurry.”
Dunk makes a move to get into his car but Baker reaches over Dunk’s head and slams the driver’s-side door shut, then leans against the car, arms folded across his chest. He has six inches and at least sixty pounds on Dunk. Baker hasn’t been in a fight since high school, and even then, he mostly scrapped with Cash. He’s thirty-one years old, the father of one with another one on the way. He never thought he’d find himself trying to physically intimidate someone. But that’s exactly what he’s going to do right now.
“First off,” Baker says, “you moved in on Tilda when she was dating my brother, Cash.”
“Cash is your brother?” Dunk says. He laughs nervously. “I didn’t make the connection, mate, I’m sorry.”
“But you did know Cash and Tilda were together,” Baker says. “When you and Tilda went away, you knew she had a boyfriend. You had dinner with him.”
“Right, but I wasn’t sure how serious it was,” Dunk says. “She told me they’d known each other only a few weeks. And she said that Cash moved in with her because he had nowhere else to go.” Dunk fiddles with the packet of vape pods in his hands. He’s trying to pop one out. “Your father was part of that whole Ascension thing? That’s some nefarious shit, mate.”
Baker snatches the pods out of Dunk’s hands and tosses them beyond the truck. He whips the vape pen out of Duncan’s shirt pocket and tosses that too.
“Nefarious?” Baker says. “Are you smart, Dunk? No, not terribly. Because the next thing you did that pissed me off was you insulted my friend Swan Seeley, told her you hired her only because she was hot—”
“It was a compliment,” Dunk says. “Show me a bird who doesn’t like hearing she’s hot, come on.”
“It was inappropriate,” Baker says. “And then you touched her. You leaned into her, you put your hand on her back, you gave her a massage, and you rubbed up against her from behind.”
“Her word against mine, mate,” Dunk says.
Baker grabs the front of Dunk’s shirt and pulls him in. Will Baker hit him? He wants to. He would love to pop Duncan Huntley in the face and watch him bleed. “I’m not your mate.”
Nestor pokes his head out of the market. “You okay?” he asks Baker. “Need any help?”
“I need help!” Dunk says. “He’s attacking me!”
Nestor goes back inside.
“Here’s what you’re going to do,” Baker says. “You’re going to apologize to Swan in an e-mail. You’re going to offer her her job back. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” Dunk says. His eyes keep sweeping to the other side of the truck. He’s worried about his vape pen, Baker realizes. Baker is never going to let Floyd start vaping.
Baker lets Dunk go, and in a few quick strides, Duncan retrieves the pen and pods from the ground.
Baker leans back against the driver’s-side door. “One more thing,” Baker says. “There’s nothing I can do for Cash—all’s fair in love and war, and Tilda chose you, a decision I’m sure she’ll come to regret. It was dirty pool. I know it; you know it. I now work with Jacqui at the Westin time-share office, and what you might not know about Jacqui is that she is very well connected. We wouldn’t want her spreading any rumors about you. People on this island already think you’re sketchy—the sex app, the weed-edibles company, the jeans-and-Sambas thing, the fasting—but what if they hear that you’re an untrustworthy snake, a two-timer, a Me Too menace?”
“What do you want?” Dunk says.
“I’d like full use of your villa for one week this summer,” Baker says. “I donated a week at my father’s villa at an auction to benefit my son’s school, but now my father’s villa is gone so I’m left in a bit of a pickle. The high bidders paid fifty thousand dollars, so in addition to the villa, I’ll need at least one vehicle and staff, if you have any.”
“A housekeeper,” Dunk says. “And a landscaper. Any week in July works. I spend
