fish he had caught but then didn’t like the strong taste of the barracuda. Neither did Graciela, though McCaleb didn’t think it was bad.
The meal was followed with another walk to the ice-cream store and then a walk along the shops on Cabrillo Way. It was dark by the time they got back to the boat. The marina was quiet again. Raymond got the bad news from Graciela.
“Raymond, it’s been a long day and I want you to go to sleep,” she said gently. “If you’re good, you can fish some more tomorrow before we leave.”
The boy looked at McCaleb, seeking either confirmation or an appeal.
“She’s right, Raymond,” he said. “In the morning I’ll take you back out there. We’ll catch some more fish. Okay?”
In a cranky tone the boy agreed and Graciela took him down to his room. His parting request was that he be allowed to take his fishing pole to his room with him. There was no objection to that. McCaleb had secured the hook on one of the pole’s eyelets.
McCaleb had two space heaters on the boat and he set them up in each of their rooms. He knew that at night it could get cold on the boat, no matter how many blankets you had on.
“What are you going to use?” Graciela asked him.
“I’ll be fine. I’m going to use my sleeping bag. I’ll probably be warmer than both of you.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
He left them down there and went topside to wait for Graciela. He poured the last of the Sanford pinot noir he had opened on her first visit into her glass.
He took that and a can of Coke out to the stern. She joined him after ten minutes.
“It gets cold out here,” she said.
“Yeah. Do you think he’ll be all right with that heater?”
“Yes, he’s fine. He fell asleep almost as soon as he hit the pillow.”
He handed her the glass of wine and she tapped it against his Coke.
“Thank you,” she said. “He had a wonderful time today.”
“I’m glad.”
He tapped his Coke against her glass. He knew that at some point he needed to finally talk about the investigation with her but he didn’t want to spoil the moment. Once again he put it off.
“Who is that girl in the picture down on your desk?”
“What girl?”
“It looks like a photo from a yearbook or something. It’s taped to the wall over the desk in Raymond’s room.”
“Oh… it’s just… it’s just somebody I always want to remember. Somebody who died.”
“You mean like a case or someone you knew?”
“A case.”
“The Code Killer?”
“No, long before that.”
“What was her name?”
“Aubrey-Lynn.”
“What happened?”
“Something that shouldn’t happen to anybody. Let’s not talk about it right now.”
“Okay. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. I should have taken that thing down before Raymond came anyway.”
McCaleb didn’t get into the sleeping bag. He just draped it over his body and lay on his back with his hands laced behind his head. He knew he should be tired but he wasn’t. Many thoughts raced through his mind, from the mundane to the gut-wrenching. He was thinking about the heater in the boy’s berth. He knew it was safe but he worried about it anyway. The talk earlier in the day also resurfaced in a strand of thoughts about his father in the hospital bed. Once more he wished he had brought the old man home to die. He remembered taking the boat out after the ceremony at Descanso Beach and circling Catalina, parceling out the ashes a little at a time so that they lasted until he had come all the way around the island.
But those memories and concerns were only distractions from his thoughts of Graciela. The evening had ended on a wrong note after she had brought up Aubrey-Lynn Showitz. The memory had knocked McCaleb off stride and he stopped talking. He was infatuated with Graciela. He wanted her and had hoped the evening would end with them together. But he had let the grim memories intrude and it spoiled the moment.
He felt the boat gently rise and fall as the tide rolled in. He exhaled loudly, hoping to expel the demons. He readjusted himself on the thin cushion. There was a seam down the middle of the makeshift bed and he couldn’t get comfortable. He thought about getting up for some orange juice, but worried that if he had a glass, there might not be enough left for Raymond and Graciela in the morning.
Finally, he decided to go down and check the vitals. The old standby for killing time. It would give him something to do, maybe make him tired and finally able to sleep.
He had plugged a night-light into the circuit over the sink in case Raymond had to get up and find the toilet. He decided not to turn on the overhead fixture and stood there in the dim light with the thermometer under his tongue. He looked at his shadowy reflection and saw that the circles beneath his eyes were becoming more pronounced.
He had to lean over the sink and hold the thermometer close to the night-light in order to read it. It looked like he had a slight fever. He took the clipboard off the hook and wrote the date and time and 99 instead of a slash. As he replaced the clipboard, he heard the door of the master stateroom open across the passageway.
He had never closed the door to the head. He looked across the dark hallway and saw Graciela’s face peering around the edge of her door. The rest of her body she hid behind the door. They spoke in whispers.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. You?”
“I’m fine. What are you doing?”
“I couldn’t sleep. I was just checking my temperature.”
“Do you have a fever?”
“No… I’m fine.”
He nodded as he said it. He became aware he was wearing only his boxer shorts. He folded his arms and raised one hand to rub his chin but he was really just trying to hide the ugly scar on his chest.
They looked at each other in silence for a moment. McCaleb realized he had been holding his hand to his chin too long. He dropped his arms to his sides and watched her as her eyes fell to his chest.
“Graciela…”
He didn’t finish. She had slowly opened the door and he could see she wore a pink silk sleep shirt cut high on her hips. She was beautiful in it. For a moment they just stood there and looked at each other. Graciela still held the door, as if to steady herself against the boat’s slight movements. After another moment she took a step into the hallway and he took a step to meet her. He reached forward and traced his hand gently up her side and then around to her back. With his other hand he caressed her throat and moved to the back of her neck. He pulled her into him.
“Can you do this?” she whispered, her face pressed into his neck.
“Nothing’s going to stop me,” he whispered back.
They moved into the stateroom and shut the door. He left his shorts on the floor and crawled onto the bed with her as she unbuttoned the nightshirt. The sheets and blanket already had her smell, the vanilla he had noticed once before. He moved on top of her and she pulled him down into a long kiss. He worked his face down to her chest and kissed her breasts. His nose found the spot just below her neck where she had touched the perfume to her skin. The deep musky vanilla filled him and he moved his lips back up to hers.
Graciela moved her hand in between their bodies and held her warm palm against his chest. He felt her body tense and he opened his eyes. In a whisper she said, “Wait. Terry, wait.”
He froze and lifted himself up with one arm. “What is it?” he whispered.
