Twenty Blue Devils

the volcano? I mean, I know you think it's silly but...'

Brenda opened her hand to look at the two glassy pebbles, black and shining on her palm. “Yes, honey, I'll see to it personally.” She would too. On tomorrow morning's routine drive around the caldera she'd stop at the rim of Halemaumau Crater, Pele's private volcano, and drop them over the edge. And hope her boss wasn't anywhere around to see.

'It's not that I really believe in the curse,” Therese said unconvincingly, “but I just didn't know what else to do. I mean, I know that it's just a myth, but I didn't think it could hurt.'

'Of course not,” Brenda said gently. “Therese, what does Brian think about all this?” Brian, Therese's husband, was the plantation's operations manager.

'He just shrugs it off. You know how he is. He says these things just happen on their own sometimes.'

'Well, they do,” Brenda said. They did too, but this time she thought there might be more to it. “Um, is Brian around? It'd be nice to say hello.'

'No, he's off communing with nature on Raiatea,” Therese said with no sign of irony, then added a small tinkling laugh: “I would have gone too, but of course I had to stay home with Claudine and Claudette.'

Every year Brian spent a week or ten days roughing it at a favorite camping spot on the mountainous, barely populated island of Raiatea, a hundred miles from Tahiti, possibly the only man in history who considered Tahiti a place to get away from. He'd convinced Therese to come with him once—her first camping experience—and the much-pampered young woman had been appalled at the lack of comfort, hygiene, and amenities that went along with it She'd also been bored stiff, not that she'd admit any of it to her adored Brian. So when the twins came along later she'd used them as a heaven-sent excuse to stay at home while he continued to make his annual pilgrimage alone. She hated being apart from him, she'd told Brenda once, but anything was better than going ten days without a hot shower and doing your business in a hole in the ground.

'I almost forgot,” Brenda said. “Congratulations. I didn't know that you and Brian had gotten married.'

'Married?” Therese said vaguely. “No, we're not married, we're—well, the same as ever. You know.'

'But your letter said he was your husband. You signed it Therese Scott.'

'Oh.” There was a moment's hesitation, and Brenda would have bet she was blushing. “I just thought Pele would think of me as a more sincere person if I was married.'

* * * *

'This is nothing to concern you, Brenda,” Nelson Lau said. “We can take care of it here in Tahiti, thank you.'

Brenda turned her head from the receiver and sighed. Her brother was not one of the world's great telephone personalities. The Stanford-educated Nelson was the only one of the Laus who had gone back to Tahiti from Hawaii, accepting Uncle Nick's job offer of the company's comptrollership fifteen years ago, almost the minute he'd gotten his MBA. And there he'd been ever since, very likely the most straitlaced man in French Polynesia and getting more so every year. Nelson actually wore a suit to work. In Tahiti.

'Nelson, how can I help being concerned? People have been hurt. Brian's almost been killed, and Therese —'

Muffled noises of exasperation came from the telephone. “Oh, for heaven's sake, you're making a mountain out of a molehill. Therese has always had a way of blowing things up out of proportion. You know what an extraordinarily suggestible—'

'Nelson, I want to know: Do all these accidents have anything to do with that awful gangland business?'

'Does what have anything to do with that awful gangland business? You mean all that rain last April?'

'Don't be funny, it doesn't suit you. Tell me honestly: Is this some kind of sabotage? Revenge? Are they getting back at Nick?'

'Now, really, how would I possibly know that?'

'What do you think?'

'I think...Brenda, I simply don't want to discuss it.'

'Fine, but what are you doing about it?” As always, talking to Nelson brought out the bossiness in her in self- defense.

'Doing about it?” Nelson laughed, a sharp, incredulous whinny. “What would you suggest?'

'I think we should get John's advice.'

Pregnant pause. “Thank you, no.'

'Nelson, be reasonable. John's an FBI agent. Surely—'

'Brenda, the FBI is absolutely the last thing we need.'

'I don't mean officially. He wouldn't have any jurisdiction in Tahiti anyway. But he'd know about this sort of thing; it's his job.'

'Absolutely not. Out of the question.'

Brenda sighed again, which she did frequently when speaking with her older brother. Nelson had a way about him that made it next to impossible to have a simple difference of opinion with him. All you could do was have a fight with him. Either that, or give in.

'Nelson, John's part of the family too. For God's sake, he's our brother. He's your brother. He has a right—'

'Brenda, no. There's nothing John can do. He wasn't involved before, and nothing's going to be served by getting him involved now. That's the crux of it.'