‘Yeah, right.’ Gar’s threat wriggled in her ear like a worm.
‘I don’t think he’ll rape you. He’s all talk. Those two boys, well, they slept in the same stateroom last night and I heard groaning. Don’t think they had upset stomachs.’ The barest hint of moral outrage colored his voice.
‘He broke my toe because he didn’t like what I said. And frankly, you’re not in control of him or what he does.’
‘I am.’
‘You’re not,’ she said. ‘I can hear it in their voices. Those two freaks are just using you to get at this cash. You’re too gentle. You don’t have the stomach for this or what it might take. You’re as dead as me and Ben if this doesn’t work out.’
‘I’m sorry you’re in this mess, but you picked your friends badly. You thirsty, hon? Want some water?’
‘Please.’
A tap gurgled. Then he pushed a glass into her hands. She drank. He moved against the vinyl, making it squeak, trying to get comfortable. ‘Tell me what you know about Stoney.’
‘Nothing. I know Ben. I barely knew Stoney in high school.’
‘High school. Before he was a millionaire.’
‘Yes.’
‘He much different now?’
‘He has more lunch money.’
A match scratched, she smelled the flash of fire. Cigarette paper crackled its whisper and silky smoke brushed her nostrils. ‘So in high school did he run roughshod over people? Kill anyone who got in his way?’
‘Talk is cheap,’ she said. ‘What proof do you have he killed anybody?’
‘Because only he knew about the journal,’ Danny said. ‘I told him about it, he decided he wanted it, and he killed to get it.’
The journal. The emerald. She’d heard him refer to both before. But this was about more, about stealing millions of Stoney’s cash. ‘Forget that for a minute, since he says he doesn’t have it. Y’all can’t get away with stealing his money electronically. Transactions leave electronic trails. You’ll get caught within days.’ She leaned a little toward Danny and smelled rum. ‘Having a little liquid courage?’ she asked.
‘You want some?’
‘Sure. For medicinal purposes. I get seasick when I’m uncomfortable. These ropes really hurt and my foot’s aching.’ Let him think she was delicate and helpless.
A dribble of rum trickled into her glass. ‘Where you work, Claudia?’ Danny asked, as though he were a bartender making conversation.
‘I’m a secretary,’ she lied. ‘I work for a justice of the peace in Port Leo. Judge Whit Mosley.’
‘You didn’t work today?’
Today was Thursday. She had taken Wednesday, today, and Friday off. She would not be missed at the police department until Monday. But the pirates didn’t know that.
‘I took off today,’ she said. ‘Just today because Fridays we have juvenile court. It’s always a zoo.’
‘Damned kids.’ She heard the soft puff of his cigarette. ‘How about I call this judge? Tell him y’all ran into motor trouble down near Padre. You’ll be out another day. I’ll say I’m the mechanic fixing it. I’m sure he’ll understand.’
She prayed, silently, that if Danny made the call Whit would have the presence of mind not to blurt, What the hell are you talking about? She doesn’t work for me. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. ‘He won’t accept a stranger calling and making excuses for me. I’d have to talk with him.’
‘We’ll discuss that with my colleagues.’
‘Colleagues. That’s generous.’
Ten seconds of silence. She couldn’t see his face. Frown of anger, smile of indulgence, scowl of disbelief? Or maybe ready to stub that cigarette out on her forehead.
‘They breaking a deal with you?’ she asked. ‘They care about the money, not about punishing Stoney or this emerald or whatever it is you care about.’
‘Hush now.’
‘Maybe I can help you.’
‘Why would you help me, honey?’
‘Because I want to live. I’ll get you what you want, if you’ll get us out of this alive.’
She heard only the hard rasp of his breathing.
‘You’re not like those guys, are you? You’re a little older, a little wiser. They’re in this for the money. You’re in it because you want the money and you hate Stoney. That’s a big and.’
Now the silence stretched for half a minute. She couldn’t stand it, so her words came out in a flood. ‘Look. All I know about Stoney is he’s got a big-ass house full of security. And I can get you past that security. Ben showed me the codes for the house last night, ’cause I might do some house-sitting for him and his brother when they go out of town. But I’ll only help you if you don’t hurt me or Ben or Stoney.’ She wished she could tear the blindfold off, see his reaction to this lie. How did the blind navigate the emotions of the world, gauge human reaction? She listened for the quickening of his breath, for nervous tapping fingers against the table, for uneasy shifts in posture. But there was only the silence.
Then he said, ‘Do you know why Stoney Vaughn’s boat is called the Jupiter?’
‘Because he thinks he’s a god?’ She spiced a little bitterness into her tone, figuring she might as well play into his resentment of Stoney by faking anger.
She heard him tap ashes. She sensed him leaning his head close to hers, his breath smelling of garlic, rum, tobacco. ‘What do you know about Jean Laffite?’
‘Who?’
‘Laffite. The pirate Laffite.’
The words were so unexpected she didn’t answer for a moment. ‘Well, uh, he was a famous pirate in the Gulf a long time ago. I guess the last of the great pirates. There’s all sorts of legends that he buried a lot of gold along the coast.’
‘Jean Laffite had a schooner in his fleet called Jupiter. Stoney named his boat after Laffite’s. He even has that picture of Laffite in his stateroom. Not nearly as good as the paintings I have, but still an okay one.’
She remembered the print. Yes. Laffite the pirate, confident and cocky.
‘And do you know why this boat is the Miss Catherine?’
‘Tell me.’
‘Laffite’s great love was a woman named Catherine Villars. She was a New Orleans quadroon – part black, mostly white – a legendary beauty. Skin like yours, Claudia, perhaps a bit darker.’ He ran a finger along her hand but it didn’t scare her.
‘So you and Stoney are pirate wannabes,’ Claudia said. ‘Rent an Errol Flynn movie and get it out of your system.’ This talk of pirates made her nervous. Pirates cut throats. Pirates made victims walk planks. Pirates raped and killed.
‘Do you know what happened to Jean Laffite?’
‘I don’t imagine he ended up in a rest home.’
‘No one knows. Terrible and beautiful, the not knowing.’ His voice took a strange tone, one of slow, sickened anger that goose pimpled her skin. ‘Here’s the basics. Laffite used Barataria Bay in Louisiana as a base. Made his fortune attacking Spanish shipping. He sold his booty – mostly slaves and luxury goods – in New Orleans. His pirating kept New Orleans fat and happy in black-market merchandise, except Laffite didn’t pay taxes.’
‘They had IRS agents then?’
‘Laffite’s the social god of New Orleans, but he’s an outlaw to the American government. So during the War of 1812, the British navy makes Laffite an offer: help the English capture New Orleans, and they’ll give him gold, land, a high commission in their navy. Think how different our history might have been if the British had taken Louisiana.’
‘Yorkshire pudding with jambalaya.’
‘But Laffite tricks the British. He warns the governor about the British plans. Know what the Americans did to repay him?’
