Within a few minutes, bright colored flames were dancing in the center of the ring. Savannah must have seen it, because when I looked up, I saw her coming down the back steps carrying a small cooler.
We make a good team, I thought.
Savannah and I had been finishing each other’s sentences and anticipating one another’s wants and needs very soon after we’d left on our Western Caribbean cruise over a year ago.
As she approached, Jimmy and Naomi crossed the short distance from their house. He was also carrying a small cooler.
I took my usual seat on a low bench we’d made from a cypress tree that’d washed up over the winter.
Savannah sat beside me and opened the cooler, handing me a stubby brown bottle of Red Stripe and an opener.
“You can have two,” she said. “You need to get up early.”
Jimmy and Naomi sat silently on a couple of worn beach chairs. He pulled a bottle of mango juice from his cooler and set it aside. Then he took a bottle of wine out and looked over at Savannah.
“Wine?” he asked.
“I’ll just have one of Jesse’s beers.”
He poured wine into a plastic cup and handed it to Naomi. Then the four of us sat quietly for a long moment.
Jimmy finally broke the silence. “It ain’t gonna be the same around here, man.”
“How so?” I asked.
“Y’all being gone,” he said.
“We were gone for most of last year.”
“But we knew you were coming back, dude,” Jimmy said, “This feels a lot more…permanent, I guess.”
“We’ll be back once a month or so,” I offered, then took a long pull from my beer.
“At first.” Jimmy sighed and took a drink of his juice. “But that ship goes all over the world, man. How’s this little island ever gonna compare with living on a two-hundred-foot yacht?”
“It’s not a yacht,” I replied. “At least not anymore. It’s a working research vessel.” I looked around the island’s interior, bathed in the light of the dancing orange and green flames. “This is home,” I said quietly. “No other place will ever compare. Look at it this way; you and Naomi will have the whole island to yourselves.”
He reached over and put a hand affectionately on Naomi’s knee. “I know, hermano. I’m just gonna miss you. That’s all.”
The charter the following day was, for the most part, uneventful. At least nobody had to swim to shore. The guys from Atlanta caught a lot of fish; grouper, snapper, a few Spanish mackerel, even a big amberjack, a species we called reef donkeys because of their enormous strength and durability. It took two of the Atlantans to boat it.
At sunset, we had them back at the Rusty Anchor, where we’d picked them up. By then, they were drunk and happy as clams. Jimmy cleaned their fish for them, and they tipped him well. By 2030, he and I were at the bar and the bubbas were headed back to their hotel.
“Sounds like quite a day,” Rusty said, after Jimmy recounted the events.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I think they had a good time. I know they caught a lot of fish.”
“Beer?”
“Nothing for me, man,” Jimmy said, spotting his girlfriend coming through the door. “Naomi’s here. We’re going out for a while, then back to her condo.”
“Sure,” I said to Rusty, checking my watch.
“You expecting someone, too?”
“Phone call,” I replied.
“You done called Savannah when you first got here,” he said. “She s’posed to call you back?”
“Someone else,” I replied.
“Well,” Jimmy said, slipping an arm around Naomi’s waist, “we’re off to a party, amigos. We’ll probably be back to the island by mid-morning.”
I nursed a few beers after Jimmy left and ate a blackened grouper sandwich. It’d been a long day and I was tired. I should have specified a time for the woman to call.
Just after 2200, the antique rotary phone Rusty kept under the bar rang and he picked it up. “Rusty Anchor.”
He listened for a moment, then looked across the bar at me. I nodded, expecting the call.
“Hang on,” he said, holding the receiver against his chest. “Some woman for you.”
“I’ll take it.”
He pulled the phone’s base out and set it on the bar, passing me the receiver. I put the clunky device to my ear.
“This is Jesse McDermitt,” I said. “Speak.”
“Mr. McDermitt, my name is Nancy Liddell. I’m sorry for calling so late, but it was the only time I could call for reasons I’ll explain in a moment.”
Although I was expecting the call, I had to know it was the right person. “How did you know where to find me, Nancy?”
“A private investigator who did some work for me back in Chicago named Kevin Grainger found you for me. Kevin used to work for DHS with an associate of yours and that associate gave Kevin your name and where I might reach you.”
“The associate’s name?”
“Scott Bond.”
“Fair enough,” I said. “Scott’s a good man and I know him well. How can I help you, ma’am?”
“Please, just call me Nancy.”
“Okay, Nancy, how can I help you?”
“First, I’d like to apologize again for calling so late. I’m in Boston right now with my niece and I had to wait for her to go to bed before calling you. I don’t want her to know I’m doing what I’m doing.”
“No need to apologize. What’s going on?”
“I wanted to see if I could contract you to do some personal protection work.”
“That’s not something I do. I’m not sure why Scott gave you my name.”
“Part of the reason is that I specified that the person or persons needed to be highly discreet. I don’t wish my niece or her family to know that I’ve arranged this protection.”
“Still not ringing any bells
