Em gave him a disapproving glance. “Who else do you want to tell? We could take out an ad in the local paper-”
“Just a thought, folks. I know a diver who can be suited up and ready first thing in the morning. And as long as we don’t tell this diver the real reason we’re going down-”
“James, this isn’t a good idea.”
He nodded. “Oh, and it’s a good idea to send you down there by yourself. Especially after the story Skeeter told us about-” he stopped, a chagrined look on his face. “I’m sorry, Skip.”
“What story? What did this Skeeter tell you?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Tell me.” Em’s signature stone-cold instruction.
With that tone of voice, I had to. Damn James. Can’t keep his mouth shut.
“Some guy died on Skeeter’s watch because he ran out of oxygen.”
She stood up and grabbed my hand. “You shouldn’t be out there by yourself. A million things could happen. You need backup. I hate to admit it, but James is right, Skip.”
I hate to admit that James was right? This was not a good sign.
Wait until you’ve had a hundred dives before you try solo. A hundred? Hell, I’d had about ten open-water dives. Ninety to go.
“So who’s this backup?” I couldn’t wait for James to tell me.
“Amy. She decided to hang out with me for a couple more days.”
“Oh, come on, your married girlfriend?”
“That’s the one, Skip. And she’s way more experienced than you are.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Clear your regulator. Clear your partially flooded mask. Breathe without your mask. Swap the air supply from your partner. All the rules that went through my head. What had I signed on for?
Why would anyone in their right mind want to escape the earth’s plentiful supply of oxygen and dive deep beneath the ocean for a brief glimpse of what lies below? Knowing that their breathing supply was sorely limited. Knowing that with a couple of short, quick breaths, they could die.
I pulled on my bathing suit and watched Em out of the corner of my eye.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting ready,” she said.
“Em, that’s a thong, for God’s sake.”
Her tan thighs, butt, abs and everything else were well defined and the brief suit showed it all off.
“Skip, stop it. It’s not a thong.”
“No. You look-you look fabulous.” I remembered how she looked last night
“Thank you.”
“It’s just that James and-”
“Oh, for crying out loud. This is what I brought, and this is what I’m wearing.”
“For that reason only?”
She turned and shot an angry glance over her shoulder as she adjusted her breasts in the thin material of her bikini.
“And just what does that mean?”
“We have a visitor. I’ve seen her in
“Would you rather I wear a sweat suit?” She turned to me, displaying a very scantily clad perfect torso. “Or do you want a frumpy one-piece that looks like something your mother would have worn?”
I studied her.
“Do you?”
The answer was no. No. No. No. However …
I loved to check out her body. And the fact that there might be a jealousy contest between the two ladies actually excited me. But I had to admit I didn’t like the idea of James seeing all that I was intimate with.
“So, the way Amy looks has nothing to do with-”
She punched me on the arm. Not a light punch by any means. She could have done damage to a pro boxer.
Em wore a cover-up and carried a beach bag as we stepped into the truck. Amy, James, Em, and I. Amy had a cover-up as well. I was anxious to see her outfit revealed.
“Amy, do you have your own mask?” I was renting mine.
“I do,” she said. “I haven’t had that many dives, but enough that I know I don’t want someone else’s mask and mouthpiece.”
I nodded. That would be a preferable situation. My own mask and mouthpiece. Perfect. However, I never thought this hobby would be more than a college credit course.
James turned the key and the engine roared. A new battery had solved the problem. We pulled out of the parking lot and drove south to Skeeter’s Dive Shop.
“So, Amy-” Em started the conversation with nothing to say. Do you mention the husband? The kid? The guy she came down with? Or the affair with James? It didn’t seem to matter, she was a part of the team. This Amy-no one seemed to know her last name-was my backup. I’d been told that a backup was sometimes useless unless they were good friends. A backup had their own agenda and often was off on that task, rather than watching your back.
As we pulled into the parking lot of Skeeter’s Dive Shop, I thought about that. Maybe I should have just done a solo dive.
I wished to God that I had decided to do that. Then Amy took off the filmy cover-up.
This twenty-three-year-old girl had the figure of a goddess. I must have been staring at her perfect narrow waist and hips and legs to die for.
“Settle down, big boy,” Em whispered in my ear as she shed her cover-up.
I turned and was once again in awe. My girlfriend had a fabulous body. I saw James, his eyes wide open and a leer on his face.
Skeeter had the boat ready and all the diving gear was neatly stowed.
“Here’s your detector. I put in some fresh batteries, and I even tested it. Seems to be working just fine.”
Amy and Em cast a wary glance at our boat, but James and I stepped in, the little ship rocking back and forth. If we hit any waves, I had a feeling this thing could go over in a heartbeat.
“You know where you’re headed?”
I nodded. I didn’t think we needed a GPS for this trip. It was just off the Cheeca Lodge dock.
“Okay, you have that boat back by one p.m. or there’ll be a full-day charge, you understand?”
“Got it.”
We helped the girls in, and they put on life preservers.
Untying the two ropes, Skeeter tossed them to us as James started the motor. Fifteen seconds later, we were headed out to sea.
“Everything okay back there, little buddy?” Leave it to James to start with the Gilligan references.
The engine was loud, and combined with the wind, it was hard to hear, so we spent the next ten minutes in silence, watching for the long pier.
James had the throttle pushed all the way, but the boat crawled. If we had planned on going any distance at all, it would have taken all day to get there.
Finally, the pier came into view and James veered out, approximately a quarter of a mile off the end.
