

### Gun Crazy

Jim Nash Collection #2

By P X Duke

Copyright 2016 P X Duke

All Rights Reserved

ISBN 978-1-928161-30-1

Disclaimer

What follows are works of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Places mentioned by name are entirely fictitious and purely products of the author's imagination, and are not meant to bear resemblance to actual places or locations.

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### Gun Crazy

Jim Nash Collection #2

Contents

Lost Paradise

No Angels

Mexico Gamble

No Picnic

More

About the author

Lost Paradise

Jim Nash Adventure #4

_Jim and Allie end up investigating a double homicide while vacationing on an island resort paradise owned by a venture capitalist Jim once cleared of a murder charge. Fourth in the Jim Nash adventure series._

**ALLIE NONCHALANTLY GESTURED** in the direction of the hard-bodied man on the dock. Her eyes fixed on the oily body glistening beneath the hot, harsh, noon-day sun. She squinted past her sunglasses in a futile attempt to block out the glare reflecting off the water. It wasn't the first time. She nudged Jim.

—Nice abs.

—What?

—A six-pack.

—You want a beer? I'll signal the waiter.

—You're too funny. When I mention a six-pack, you think it's about beer. When you bring up the subject, I know it's just one more female hardbody you're checking out.

Even when he managed to hide his wandering eyes behind dark glasses, Jim knew the beautiful woman sitting beside him in the lounger had him pegged.

—Let's go back to the room. It's starting to get too hot out here.

He turned to look at Allie over the top of his sunglasses. Her own oily body was a marvel to behold.

—You're changing the subject again.

He knew he was a lucky man to have a beautiful, intelligent woman all to himself in this resort paradise.

—And why wouldn't I? You're the best thing about being here.

—If I know you, it's going to be too hot in the room, too. Nice cover, though.

Jim pulled a not so reluctant Allie out of her chair and chased after her as she began running in the direction of their ground floor, beach-front room. Above them, a woman appeared on a balcony.

—Oh, look. On the top floor. Isn't it a little early in the day for a party?

The woman appeared to trip. She bumped against the balcony railing. She made a frantic grab for it, missed, and lost her balance. She screamed and tumbled into the void. Kicking and pawing all the way down, she missed the pool by only a few feet. She landed with a loud thud.

—Jim-

—I saw it, too. Come on.

Already Jim was in a dead heat running towards the woman.

**Jim scored a** major coup eighteen months earlier when he investigated a murder believed to have been committed by a millionaire involved in the venture capital business. The story was that the man became jealous of a partner who had supposedly one-upped him. The partner was to have stolen a major client and his resort hotel construction deal.

As it turned out, the murder ended up being committed by a high-priced call girl on the yacht owned by the dead man. Thanks to Jim's astute investigation and discovery of a video surveillance record on the boat, Robert, the venture capitalist, ended up being released and absolved of any responsibility for the murder.

Robert never forgot the detective's name. When the resort hotel was completed, he offered the now-retired detective, Jim Nash, the keys to the place for as long as he wanted. Jim and Allie agreed on a four-day weekend.

It was all the time their marina and charter business would allow.

**In a state** of shock, resort staff began gathering on the grounds surrounding the pool. Jim directed one to retrieve a blanket. He carefully placed it over the body and asked a staffer to guard it from guests and the rest of the staff. He asked the others to return to their duties in order not to upset the guests.

Satisfied, he made for his room and his phone. It was beginning to look like another favor could very well be in the works.

—I think I'd better call Robert. Why don't you take a quick walk up the staircase to the top floor to see what's going on? Be nosy, and be ignorant. Ask lots of questions.

Allie raised an eyebrow and gave him a dirty look.

—Yes, Mr. Detective, now retired. As a former coroner, I'll be sure to ask lots of questions.

He smacked her on the rear.

—I'll be up in a minute.

Allie walked off rubbing a pink cheek. She made a detour to pick up a wrap before making her way to the staircase. Jim made a quick detour to the patio to get a look at the body. The woman was fully clothed. Her makeup appeared to be freshly applied. He made sure the resort employee continued to guard the body and keep it covered with the blanket.

Before entering the foyer, he got on the phone to Robert and began explaining what happened. The financier promised to call the property to advise them of Jim's promotion to house dick. He made sure that Robert knew this would be a one-off for him. If it was a crime, he would stay until it was resolved to his satisfaction, after which he would return to his partner's business.

Jim hung up his phone and rode the elevator to the penthouse floor. A CCTV camera in an upper corner caught his attention. The fifth-floor elevator door opened onto a very large common area surrounded by five rooms.

A cleaning cart was parked in front of a room across from the elevator.

A sign pointed to a fire door and a staircase behind it. All of the room doors required key cards to be unlocked. There was a card reader next to the exit door also.

A white-gloved concierge stood guard at the door to one of the rooms.

—Is this the one?

—Yes.

—I'm Jim Nash. I'm the new house detective. Check with the front desk if you have to.

—I'm Jeffrey, the floor concierge.

Jeffrey clasped his gloved hands in front of him.

—Thanks for blocking the door. Has anyone entered or left since you've been standing here?

—Not a soul.

Allie pushed open the staircase door to the top floor and entered the room. Immediately the alarm went off, startling Jim. Allie talked over the loud, pulsing whine.

—I didn't meet anyone on the staircase. There wasn't a soul other than the sound I made climbing the stairs.

She caught her breath while she waited for the concierge to scan the reader with his card. The alarm quieted instantly.

—It would have been obvious had there been. It's going to be a while until the local PD finds a boat and gets here. We might as well do what we're trained to do.

A young, attractive woman in a hotel uniform exited the room next to where the murder had occurred. She glanced at Jeffrey, the concierge, and grimaced before making for the elevator with the cleaning cart in tow.

The victim's door still had the maid service sign hanging on it. It was the only sign on any of the doors. There was no cleaning sign on the room the maid exited.

Jeffrey opened each of the rooms off the penthouse floor. Jim checked each one. All were empty. It appeared as though the chambermaid was the only other employee on the floor. Allie approached the young woman as she waited for the elevator to arrive.

Jim's concentration was centered on the concierge.

—Jeffrey, are the other rooms occupied by people here for the wedding?

His question was answered by a noisy group of males exiting the elevator. Allie followed the room cleaner into the elevator and pushed the hold button. The crowd milled about the penthouse foyer. A mad scramble of people and voices made a rush for the room in question. Jeffrey did his duty and refused entrance to all. Jim shouted to get their attention.

—People. People! I'm the house detective. I'll need to ask all of you some questions.

He turned to Jeffrey and pointed out Allie as she returned from talking with the chambermaid.

—This is my partner. Please allow her access to the room. You and anyone else must stay outside at all times.

The concierge slipped his pass card through the automated door lock. Allie entered and blocked the door to prevent it from closing. She didn't want anyone to think she might disturb the crime scene while she surveyed the room.

**Jim looked over** the wedding party's group of young men and women. The parents of the bride were there as well. By the look of it, there was no family from the groom's side.

—All right, people. I'll need to interview each of you. Please stay in your rooms until I can get to you. And please stay out of the room in question. We don't need anyone contaminating the crime scene by trampling through it.

A half-dozen participants went back to their rooms to await Jim's knock. When he was alone, Allie stuck her head out of the victim's room and motioned to him.

—What have you got?

Allie pointed to the pieces scattered on the floor.

—Parts of a broken necklace. It looks similar to the ones we looked at in the hotel's dive shop yesterday.

—Yeah, and the six-pack you were investigating on the beach.

—Very observant, Mr. Detective. I thought we were on our way to discussing that in our very own room when we were so rudely interrupted by a falling body.

Jim grinned as he joined Allie in the room.

—Isn't that-

—Yes, it is. We used a similar one only yesterday as well.

—The gun is missing its spear. Not unusual when it's in a room, I would think, but for the spear forming a tent over the body down by the pool.

—Yes. I wouldn't want one still loaded in our room—unless I was planning on bagging the dive shop cutie.

—You and your dive shop. He's too young for you and we both know it.

Allie sighed as Jim squinted against the direct sunlight streaming into the room past the balcony's open sliding door. The partially open curtains fluttered in the light breeze.

—That light is blinding at this time of day.

He parted the curtains and entered the balcony. The body remained splayed out by the pool. Hotel staff stood guard over a blue tarp. The tarp created a tent over the victim.

—There's something sticking out of our bride.

—I already checked it out on my way up. It's a spear.

—Well. Now we know where the missing spear ended up.

—There's no room key. Unless it's on the victim's body. If it's not, how did she get into the room?

They looked at each other.

—Let's review. We witnessed a woman falling off of the balcony for this room. She has a spear stuck in her. The spear gun is similar to those the dive shop rents to hotel guests—including us. Pieces of a broken necklace, similar to ones we've seen in the dive shop, are in the room.

—That's right. And there's no room key to be found. Unless the woman on the ground has it tucked away on her person, how did she get into the room?

* * *

**INTERVIEWS WERE CONCLUDED.** Three main points came to light concerning the wedding party. Following the wedding, the bride would gain control of a trust fund from her father and stepmother. The stepmother didn't think the groom was worthy of her stepdaughter. The bride obviously thought otherwise.

A stepbrother had recently asked the bride for a loan of fifty thousand. He said she agreed to let him have it after the wedding when everyone got back to the mainland.

My own thoughts were mixed. Perhaps the stepmother didn't want to relinquish control of the trust fund. It could have meant there would be a substantial reduction in her finances and subsequent lifestyle.

A pre-nup had been forced on the groom by the father and stepmother. It prevented him from owning or accessing the funds in the trust. The young man admitted that he had signed willingly. He was adamant that he was no mooch. A condition of the pre-nup stipulated that in the event of the bride's death, the trust reverted to the family as a whole.

By the sound of it, the stepbrother and the bride were not estranged in any way. They were normal kids who ended up under a roof and sharing a home by virtue of their respective parents' separation and divorce.

The bride's sister once had a crush on the groom a few years ago. Nothing came of it once he had been introduced to the bride-to-be. Apparently, it had been love at first sight for both the bride and the groom.

I knew it would turn out to be a dead end, but I asked for a copy of the pre-nup anyway. There was a problem with all of it, though. The bride wasn't the deceased. She was alive and well and out on one of the resort's boat excursions.

In the meantime, the concierge came up with some details he neglected to mention at the start. The woman that had fallen was a dancer, hired for the afternoon bachelor party. Following the departure of the female half of the wedding party on a boat tour, the dancer was to do her thing at the stag.

There appeared to be no connection to the wedding party, other than that she had been hired by the best man to dance at the stag party. The guys insisted on a few lap dances for the groom and a chance to take some supposed blackmail pictures for laughs.

So why was the woman lying dead by the pool with an arrow stuck in her after having fallen from the room?

The concierge confessed that he hadn't seen anything. He was busy making drinks. His back was to the room in question. The noise of the high-powered blender drowned out any sounds he might have heard. It made so much noise that he didn't even hear the scream as the woman went over the balcony.

The father handed over the pre-nup. The page on which the groom had signed had his signature. The bride hadn't signed. Instead, she had written in longhand that she would never accede to her family's demands for such an agreement. The signature line had been scratched over.

—Who's next to inherit?

I already knew it had no bearing on the crime. The father of the groom took it upon himself to answer.

—The trust is to be distributed to all of the family members.

—Well now, it looks like that's been shot to hell, doesn't it? The bride didn't sign.

Already I believed that no one in the wedding party had anything to do with the death of the dancer. Unless the bride-to-be was jealous of a girl who was supposed to dance at the stag for the boys, there was nothing there.

Even so, when news of the interrogation got out, it just might force the real killer's hand.

There was still the dive shop employee and his six-pack abs to consider. I figured on Allie to handle that. She'd have her eye candy and maybe corner a murderer, too.

Not that I was jealous of the attention she'd been giving his abs, of course. My own abs consisted of something often referred to as a muffin top.

**A ringing cell** phone announced the arrival of the local police. I met them at the elevator. The investigator introduced himself and announced that he would be taking the lead.

—That's fine by me. Come on, Allie. It looks like we're done.

Allie questioned the decision in the elevator on the way to the lobby.

—We're not quitting. We're going to take a look at the elevator video for the time of the murder.

We must have played it half a dozen times. Six people rode to the top. The dancer appeared to whisper something into one of the male's ears. They both waved their hands and did a matching hip-grinding dance. Six people got off the elevator. No one got back on to descend. The door closed on the empty elevator. Nothing out of the ordinary appeared to take place.

—They're all people in the wedding party. They all left the elevator at the same time. No one went down.

—That settles that. Whoever the murderer was, it had to be one of those six.

—I wonder what the dancer whispered into that guy's ear.

—Judging by their actions, I suspect she was giving her approval for the photos of her lap dances. Since she's not here to verify it, we'll never know for sure.

They left it to the police to check the video for themselves. It was out of their hands now since the inspector announced he would be taking over the case.

**Jim and Allie** weren't satisfied with their efforts. Notwithstanding the takeover by the local authorities, they felt obligated to carry on with their investigation while trying not to step on the toes of the locals.

—I think we should talk to the chambermaid. She appears to be the only other person with access to all of the rooms. The hotel's cleaning notice was still on the door to the victim's room. I didn't notice a card on the door of the room the chambermaid exited.

Maria didn't have a lot to tell the pair. She had been in the foyer, having just cleaned the room in question. She was about to remove the notice from the door handle. The performer came running up to her. She insisted that she needed a room in order to change into her costume and put on makeup. She offered ten dollars as a bribe.

—I opened the door for the woman, and that's the last I saw of her. I completed my cleaning tasks in the last room and came out to see you on the floor.

—That necklace you're wearing. It's custom-made.

Maria brushed it with her fingertips. It resembled similar items Allie had seen in the dive shop.

—It's very nice.

—Thank you. I make them. They're one of a kind. I've only ever made two exactly alike. The hotel permits me to sell them in the dive shop.

—That's where I first noticed them. Warren is pretty hot, isn't he?

Maria blushed. Her relationship had been discovered and she was afraid this woman would tell on her.

—Don't worry. Your secret is safe. I won't tell. I have no designs on him, either.

—I wouldn't think that you would, given the very attractive man accompanying you. All of the women in the hotel are talking about him.

It was Allie's turn to blush.

—Well, he can be a handful sometimes.

Maria smiled.

—All men can. The concierge on the penthouse floor thinks that I should drop Warren for him. He says Warren isn't good enough for me. He says if I give him a chance, he'll prove how much better he would be for me.

—Stick with Warren, Maria.

She gave the girl a conspiratorial hug.

—The one you know is usually always better for you.

—Yes. He's the one for which I made the matching necklace for this.

Again Maria touched the necklace around her neck.

**Jim answered his** ringing phone. It was Robert, wanting a report. Jim filled him in and informed him the police had taken over the case.

—You're not withdrawing, are you?

—Not on your life. You've got me, and a former coroner, still plugging away around the edges of the police investigation.

Allie wasn't entirely pleased to know they'd be remaining at the resort. She'd been reluctant to leave the family business back home for more than a long weekend. Even so, the case had drawn her in. She accepted that they'd have to remain until it had been solved.

—It looks like our four-day is about to turn into a week.

—You're probably right. Will you have to return home?

—Certainly not. I'm into this now, whatever it is. There's no way I'm leaving you here by yourself with the gorgeous bikini-wearing women strutting their stuff.

—Well, I could say the same for you with little Mr. Abs in the dive shop. Maybe you could offer him a job back home.

It was Allie's turn to grab Jim's rear and pinch it, hard.

—Hey now!

—Tit for tat, partner. Let's take a walk to the dive shop. I feel the need for another look, just to be sure.

She grinned. Jim rubbed at his rear as they stepped onto the dock. The powerful cigarette boat the resort used as a ferry was departing for the mainland.

—That looks like the bride and groom. Where do you think they're off to in such a rush?

—From what I understand, they're in a hurry to elope. I overheard them making reservations at the front desk.

—Should we alert the police?

—It's not my job. Going by what I listened to upstairs, they deserve to rid themselves of those fool parents as soon as they can. Besides, it's all in the hands of the local police now. If they want them, it'll be up to them to track them down.

* * *

**THE DIVE SHOP** at the head of the pier was tiny. It was high-roofed, open on four sides with sliding shutters that could be closed. It was neatly kept, with the usual accumulation of tourist trinkets and other junk. A display of spear guns hung on a rack and another for the shafts was on display in a corner behind the counter.

Warren, the manager, informed the duo how the sign-out sheets for guns, scuba tanks, and other diving accoutrements were all done online. Only the front desk had access via the computer to appointments.

—They bring me a printout and I collect the signatures of those using the equipment.

Allie picked up a necklace from the display. She examined it and handed it to Jim.

—Who makes these?

—Maria. She's one of the hotel chambermaids.

—Does she sell them anywhere else?

—No. They're very popular, though. The hotel has an exclusive arrangement with her for all she can produce.

—I notice you wear one of her custom pieces, too.

—Yes. She offered it to me. I accepted. She wears its twin.

—So then, would you say that she's special to you?

—Most definitely.

—What do you know about the bridal party?

Warren related how they had showed up only days ago. A couple of the women came down to the shop to check it out. He reserved a boat and a guide for the women in the group and that was the last he saw of them. He checked his printout. They had showed up for their tour.

—You're a good looking guy. Do you ever date any of the guests?

Warren looked Allie up and down, appearing to size her up. She blushed and turned towards Jim in an attempt to deflect the man's attention.

—You're a good looking woman. Before I became involved with Maria, I'd have taken a run at you, notwithstanding the man at your arm. Since we became involved, no guest of the hotel has ever interested me. Not even the beautiful ones. You're a lucky man, Mr. Detective.

**Allie made a** fanning motion with her hand as they made their way back to the hotel.

—What's the matter, dear? Are you thinking of running off with the dive shop proprietor?

—If it wasn't for you-

Jim turned her words around.

—If it wasn't for me, you'd still have your job in the city.

—Perhaps, but I'm much happier now that I'm out of there and I have you.

Jim took her hand and smiled.

—Thank you. And you do realize we have nothing on this case.

—Nothing so far. But now I know that the necklace found in the victim's room didn't belong to Warren. His is a twin for Maria's, and he's still wearing it. So is she.

—Mr. Abs had the hots for Maria, the chambermaid. She had the hots for him. That's the end of that.

—It didn't appear as though he had anything going on with anyone in the wedding party. We're dead in the water.

In the room, Jim drew a rough sketch of the penthouse floor. He marked each room with the occupant names and the chambermaid's whereabouts.

—You forgot the concierge. He was busy using the blender to make drinks.

Allie took the pencil and drew in the portable kitchen island.

—According to him, he had his back to the door. The noise was too much to hear anything.

She marked his position with an X.

—Then there's the cleaning sign.

She marked the door.

—One sign. One chambermaid. The sign says she's in one room. She isn't. She's in a different room. How does that figure?

—She must have left the sign hanging on the door when she let the performer in, just as she said. Then she went to the second room and went to work, thinking she'd go back to collect it when the woman leaves.

Jim's cell phone rang again.

—Come on. The police have something.

**The police inspector** waited for Jim and Allie in the makeshift office on the main floor.

—Print results from the spear gun have come back. The only prints on it are those of the dive shop employee. Warren. There are no others. As well, the autopsy proves that death was caused by the spear entering the woman's heart. She was dead before she fell off the balcony.

The inspector handed Jim the report. He was flummoxed.

—Are you sure? There's absolutely no motive for that boy to have killed the woman. He wasn't even on the floor, according to the videos.

—The prints speak for themselves.

Jim wasn't so certain.

—Why would he be up there? He had the dive shop to run. He didn't make deliveries. He didn't even take reservations. They were all made at the front desk. The hotel doesn't offer dive lessons, so he couldn't have been here to give a talk.

—That's what we have. I can't tell you more than that.

Annoyed and confused by the results, Jim went on.

—The videos confirm that only six people with the wedding party were on the floor. The chambermaid and the concierge make eight.

Jim's ringing cell phone interrupted the meeting. H answered it, listened, and hung up quickly.

—We need to go down a floor right away.

**The sleuths made** their way to the fourth floor. A door to one of the rooms displayed the hotel's _Cleaning in progress_ notice on the handle. Inside, Maria, the chambermaid, lay crumpled on the floor. Allie bent to check the girl's pulse.

—She's gone.

A broken necklace lay scattered on the floor.

—I recognize it as the twin to Warren's. I had her show it to me earlier.

Allie looked over the body as best she could without disturbing it. She paid particular attention to the girl's neck.

—Without anything more to go on, I'd say it was up close and personal. Maria was killed by strangulation. The marks surrounding her neck and the thumb indentations at her throat indicate a violent encounter. Her neck appears to be broken, as well. That could have happened during or after the struggle.

Jim pointed to the indentations on the wall. Allie went on.

—I'd need to verify her height, but it does look as though they could be from the back of her head during the confrontation. If they were made by her head, the marks will confirm that it was indeed violent.

—A lover's quarrel, perhaps?

Allie considered.

—I'm not convinced. Again, Warren had no reason to be up here. A check of the videos will either confirm or prove otherwise. You're the detective, but I'd look elsewhere.

Again, Jim was perplexed.

—Is it possible the two murders are connected? Might there be a common thread we've missed?

—The cleaning sign hanging from the door handle makes it plain she was inside doing her job. Her cart is outside the door.

—From that can we infer that Maria might have been the target the first time? Could it have been a case of mistaken identity?

—How so?

—Consider this. Maria hangs the sign on 502, cleans the room, and exits. The performer sees the chambermaid exiting the room. She convinces her to let her use the room for a few minutes to get ready. Maria agrees. Thus the reason for no key card in the room. Maria then wheels her equipment to the other room, uses her key card to unlock the door, and goes to work.

—That sounds plausible so far. Then what?

—Perhaps a jealous suitor? One of the women in the wedding party? Someone who wants to borrow money? A family member opposed to the wedding? Someone who knows that Maria will be in the room?

—So then, what you're saying is that whoever murdered the dancer didn't know who was in the room?

—Or they knew it would be the maid, and couldn't tell that it wasn't.

—How could they not know, Jim? It happened in broad daylight. And how did the spear gun get upstairs? There was no gun in any of the videos we looked at.

—Precisely. Come on. We have more work to do.

* * *

**THEY LOCATED WARREN** at the end of the dock. He was busy cleaning the gear for the day's reservations. The crestfallen expression on his face when they told him that Maria had been murdered made it obvious that he had nothing to do with it.

—Son of a bitch. Who could it have been?

—We don't know. Yet. Now tell me, who among the staff can make use of the equipment in the dive shop?

—Just about anyone who wants to. Only a few do, though. They don't have to make reservations as long as it's during off hours.

—So there's no record?

—None at all for the staff. Unless perhaps it was a new employee that didn't know any better. The staff can pretty much come and go here and take the gear out without any notice.

Allie gripped Warren's hand.

—We're sorry for your loss. She was a beautiful young woman. Her jewelry was gorgeous.

Warren touched his necklace.

—Yes it is. Thank you for telling me about her.

—We have one more question. We've already checked the computer records for the day of the first murder. The female members of the wedding party had a boat tour booked. They took it, right?

—Yes they did. I personally cast off for them.

—Come on, Jim. We've got more thinking to do.

Warren grabbed Allie's arm.

—Wait. I want to see her.

She looked at Jim and then at Warren.

—That's not a good idea. It's best if you keep your memories of how she was with you, not how she is now.

—No. I want to see her. Will you take me?

Allie reached for Warren's hand. It was obvious she wouldn't be able to talk him out of it.

—Of course I'll take you.

**Allie remained with** Warren to escort him to the penthouse to see his girlfriend. She made sure to walk him back to the dive shop. It became plain that he was in shock the entire time.

—I'm sorry, Warren. I'm so sorry.

He only nodded.

—I have to meet Jim. I'll come back later to check on you, okay?

She returned to their room. Jim was already there.

—Shit. Maria.

Jim regarded her.

—What about Maria?

—She told me the concierge had a huge crush on her. She said he tried to get her to ignore Warren, even though he knew they had a thing for each other. The concierge was jealous of Warren because of it.

Jim considered.

—If he was jealous of Warren, why would he kill Maria?

—Perhaps it was inadvertent. If he went into the room wanting to confront her about Warren, and if he has a temper-

—Okay. But why kill the girl hired to do the dancing?

—Mistaken identity. The concierge thought he was pointing the spear gun at Maria. For some reason, he couldn't make out who it actually was that he was aiming at.

—That's impossible. If it was mistaken identity, the concierge would have to be blind. I don't think he is.

—We need to take another look at that room.

**The pair exited** their room on the ground floor and headed for the front door. A commotion near the dive shack drew their attention. Two men yelled back and forth at each other. As they drew closer, it became plain that Warren and the concierge were involved in a heated discussion.

The concierge had forced Warren's back against the wall. He drove the heel of his hand into Warren's chest. The shouting intensified as Warren pushed the angry concierge away and headed up the dock towards shore. The concierge chased after him, gesturing and shouting.

—Well, I think that's our answer to the question about the concierge's temper.

—You're right. We need to talk to Warren again.

They caught up to him at the rear of the hotel.

—Where did your friend get to?

—He used his card to take the stairs.

Allie glanced at Jim. He only nodded.

—We need to ask you more questions if it's all right.

It was evident that Warren warmed to Allie right away.

—What would you like to know?

—We saw what went on from shore. The concierge has quite a temper. Has he always been like that?

—It started when Maria and I began dating. He used to go out with her. She told me he was extremely jealous of her. Since she was much younger he was always checking up on her. It's one of the reasons she stopped seeing him.

—Do you think he might have thought that he could still have a chance with her?

—I don't think so. Maria made it clear to me that she had definitely ended it with him. There was no chance in hell that they would ever be getting back together.

—What were you two arguing about at the end of the dock?

—It wasn't an argument. He was telling me how Maria would never be a part of my life, today or any day.

That last was enough for Jim. He thanked Warren and allowed him to go on his way.

—It looks like we have our answer.

Allie too was relieved. She never thought Warren capable of murder either—especially a double murder.

—It's up to the concierge to come clean. He's our main suspect now.

—I agree. I think we've got him dead to rights. Now if we could get him to spill the beans in anger, we could go home.

—Don't tell me you've had enough of paradise.

—I lost that feeling when I witnessed the woman taking the tumble.

—What about your eye candy on the end of the dock?

—Sometimes too much candy upsets the stomach.

**Jim rounded up** the fifth-floor occupants and advised them that their presence would be required in the foyer at 11 a.m.

—Is that the time you figured the murder occurred?

—Well, in reality it could be within a half-hour to forty-five minutes on either side, but that will do. I'm hoping that the murderer will help us out a little.

—You're right. Maybe he'll lead us right to how it happened if he starts talking.

—In any case, we have a couple of hours. What do you say we head downstairs and pack our bags.

Allie smiled and took Jim's hand.

—It won't take us more than a few minutes to pack. What else do you have in mind?

—Let's see what comes up while we're waiting.

Jim carried Allie into the room and deposited her on the bed.

—I can't reach the suitcases from here.

—Neither can I. What do you say to a little nap before we go back upstairs?

Allie tugged at the string on her bikini top and let it fall.

—What do you say we do a little something else first?

* * *

**THE GROUP MINUS** the bride and groom were gathered on the fifth floor by the time Jim and Allie exited the elevator. The local police showed up, too. Jim wondered what they might have to contribute to the discussion and his attempt at getting the presumed murderer to confess.

—Thanks for coming, inspector. And the rest of you. As you know, there's a murderer in our midst. He's murdered twice, and he's managed to get away with it both times.

Jim looked at each of them in turn.

—So far. But that's about to change.

Subtle muttering in the crowd of bodies grew in intensity as each of them fought to be overheard. Jim held up his hand for silence.

—We've looked at the videos both in the elevator and here in the foyer. There's no one on the floor who wasn't supposed to be here. In other words, you were all present and accounted for in the videos.

A voice at the back of the room spoke up.

—That means that one of us had to be the murderer.

—That's right. Look around you. The murderer is here.

The groom's father took dramatic exception to Jim's suggestion that anyone in the wedding party might have committed murder.

—Where's your proof? I want to know what you're going by.

The rest of the party chimed in, unable to resist the obvious.

—Come on. Who was it? The groom? A bride? The stepmother. That's it. She had the most to lose.

—You're all wrong. Let me explain why.

Without being prodded, the man who had been chummy with the entertainer in the elevator came forward. The reason for the happy dance between the two of them in the elevator was because the dancer told him he could take photos of her performance.

—We were supposed to meet following her performance to pick up the photo card.

—Yes, that's what we figured too.

Allie nodded. One more down, and a whole bunch more to go. Would the concierge never break his stern look of disinterest? Jim attempted to keep up the tension.

—We learned that the stairway could have been a possible route used by the murderer to get to the fifth floor. And in fact, in one instance, a possible suspect was eliminated when we attempted to use his card to access the stairwell. Warren's card wouldn't allow it. He would have had to break down the door.

—But I didn't do that.

—You're right. You didn't, Warren. If you had, the alarm would have sounded, and your card wouldn't have been capable of silencing it, either.

Allie chimed in.

—Only certain staff cards have access to the alarm system in the event they have to be silenced due to false activations.

As if to confirm it, a policeman entered the room through the stairwell. Before he could get the door closed, the alarm sounded. He yelled over the din.

—I'm sorry. I'm sorry. The elevator wouldn't come down to pick me up.

The concierge moved to the card reader. He ran his card through and the noisy alarm stopped. Except for Allie and Jim, no one appeared to notice the obvious. Jim hesitated before continuing. He didn't want to give any sign that he was zeroing in on the concierge.

Finally, he pressed on.

—The only people on the floor that weren't part of the wedding party was the concierge and the chambermaid. As you all have just witnessed, his card is capable of silencing the alarm. In fact, we learned that his card is capable of deactivating the alarm in its entirety.

The man's eyes flashed instantly to Jim and moved back to staring at the floor.

—Isn't that right?

—Yes, it is. But I've never used my card that way. It's not allowed by the hotel.

—It may not be allowed, but it is a fact that your card can be used that way, is it not?

Allie could tell the concierge didn't want to answer. She also knew he had to.

—Yes. That's correct.

Jim moved to carry on. The concierge interrupted.

—But I didn't do it. I loved Maria. We talked about leaving here and starting a new life together.

Jim looked at Warren. He shook his head in disgust.

—By the look of it, Warren would disagree with you. In fact, although you kept insisting to Maria that he wasn't good enough for her, she was considering leaving with Warren, wasn't she?

—No. That's not true at all.

—Furthermore, you wouldn't accept that Maria had blown you off for the much younger man. When you saw the identical necklaces the two shared, you finally realized that you would never have her. Ever. Isn't that right?

Jim gave the man only an instant to answer and then bored in.

—You became so intent on destroying the relationship between the two of them that you left one of Maria's necklaces on the floor to implicate him, didn't you?

He didn't let up.

—That's when your emotions took over. You argued several times with the girl. We know that from witness statements. Your arguing was loud enough that almost everyone heard you berating her for her choices.

—We might have had some discussion about it, yes. But I didn't kill her.

—Perhaps not. But you thought you did, didn't you?

The concierge became agitated at Jim's assertion. He clasped and unclasped his gloved hands and shifted back and forth from one foot to the other.

—That's just not true. I loved Maria.

—You might have, once. But when you thought you had murdered her, you were only intent on preventing her from running off with Warren. Isn't that right? That's when you threw the necklace on the floor beside the body. You didn't know that the two necklaces Warren and the girl wore were identical.

Again the concierge made an attempt to appear unconcerned. He cleared his throat to answer, but Jim didn't give him the chance.

—And that's probably when you discovered that you murdered the wrong woman.

—I couldn't have done it. I was busy at the bar making the drinks. I had my back to the room. I couldn't see anything. The noise of the blender prevented me from hearing anything.

—That might be true, but before you began mixing drinks, you wanted to make sure that Maria met her end.

—But it was the entertainer who went over the balcony.

—Yes, it was. But you didn't know it at the time. You picked up the spear gun you had earlier stashed in your drink cart. You used your key card to get into the room when you saw the sign hanging on the door. You thought it was Maria in the room because of that card. But it wasn't.

Jim looked over at Allie. She nodded.

—That's impossible. I would never have made that mistake.

—It wasn't Maria in the room. Maria simply forgot to remove the sign when she allowed the dancer to use the room briefly. Thinking that she was still inside, you opened the door, intending to confront Maria. Which you did.

—I did not.

—Instead, you were actually confronting the dancer. You couldn't tell, because the sun shining through the window blinded you. You leveled the spear gun at the panicked woman, pulled the trigger, and the force of the blow drove the dancer backwards out the door.

—No. No way. That's impossible. It was Warren's fingerprints on the gun.

—In your misplaced anger, and finally discovering who it was you killed, you tossed the spear gun aside, and threw the woman over the balcony. You dropped the necklace you stole from the dive shop, intending to incriminate Warren, Maria's boyfriend. You exited the room, made sure the door was closed and locked, and went back to your duties.

—I did no such thing. You can't prove it. Did you find any fingerprints?

—You ripped the room cleaning sign off the door. Only you didn't notice the bit left behind. You nonchalantly returned to the bar, fired up the blender, and carried on as though nothing had happened. Isn't that right?

Allie took over.

—Your fingerprints weren't on the gun. The only prints on it were Warren's. Considering that he stored and handed out the guns, that's not unusual. You wear gloves for most of your duties. In fact, I've never seen you without them.

Jim added one last bit of information.

—The hotel's computer system shows that your card was used to shut down the stairwell alarm around the time the murder was committed. That's when you sneaked the spear gun upstairs.

Allie turned to the dive shop operator.

—Warren, what do you do when someone from the staff borrows any of your equipment?

—I don't want to get a bill for anything that goes missing. I keep my own records, since I'm not allowed access to the computer. It only keeps track of the guests. The hotel allows staff to use the equipment on their own time.

Jim eyed the concierge.

—So then, we know you took out a spear gun. Since those gloves almost never come off of your hands, there's no chance your prints would be on the gun, is there?

The concierge only shook his head.

—And now for the second murder. The one you thought you had already committed.

—I didn't murder anyone. It was an accident.

The entire room let out a collective gasp.

—Yes, it was. The first murder was an accident when you couldn't plainly see who you were shooting at. The second one—this time it actually was Maria—might have been an accident, too.

—I didn't mean to do it. I loved Maria. I only wanted her to realize that before it was too late. We struggled. She was strong. I hit her once. And again. She stumbled and hit her head on the wall. Her necklace broke. I fled the room and closed the door. I didn't mean to. I loved her.

—You might have, once. But what do you call it when you murder a stranger by mistake? What do you call it when you commit a second murder of the woman you confess to love because you messed up the first time?

* * *

**THE EX-DETECTIVE AND** his partner and former big-city coroner made their way to the front desk intent on checking out. Jim finished with his final call to Robert, the resort owner. He wanted to be sure that the man knew his case was closed and the double murderer had been caught.

—That's right, Robert. That's exactly the way it happened. There's no doubt at all.

He listened briefly.

—No. I couldn't do that. The woman I love has a business to run, and I'm a part of that now. I couldn't take a permanent job down here.

He looked at Allie and shook his head.

—No. There's too many temptations here to fly back and forth. Allie wouldn't be happy, and it's my job to make sure I stay on her good side.

Jim grinned.

—Besides, Robert, she's a coroner. She already knows too many ways to kill me, dispose of the body, and get away with it. Yes. That's right. And no, you don't owe me anything else.

He hung up and they headed for the dock. Warren met them and escorted the pair to the waiting boat.

—Thank you for clearing me. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't showed up here in the first place.

Allie handed him her card.

—If you ever decide to get off of the island and you're looking for a job, call us. Perhaps we could help you find one.

**On the boat** to the mainland, Jim made sure to get in one last dig.

—Maybe I could help you find a job? You're still thinking about his abs, aren't you?

—No, dear. I was thinking of a six-pack. Beer. Remember?

She reached across and pinched his rear.

—Ouch! What did I do to deserve that? I'll have a bruise for a week.

—It's what you didn't do that counts. And don't you forget it.

—The next time Robert needs my services, I'm coming down here alone.

—Not if you want a place to come back to, you won't.

###

No Angels

Jim Nash Adventure #5

Jim is tasked by an old friend for assistance in cleaning up part of a gunrunning operation created by government mismanagement. He dives full throttle into Mexican waters, only to encounter the mysterious yacht Captain and crew that will transport him to his rendezvous with trouble and death.

**JIM SPENT MOST** of the morning pussyfooting around the warehouse. There was something he wanted to talk to Allie about, but he was reluctant, uncertain how she would react. Finally, he drummed up the courage.

—Allie, do you remember when you asked me to come here and help you out for a bit?

She knew him well enough that she could tell something was up. She thought it best to keep it light until he got to the point.

—Look, just because you haven't gotten me killed yet doesn't mean I haven't been watching my back.

He held up his hands in mock surrender.

—No, no. Nothing like that.

Damn but the woman could get a good one in when he wasn't expecting it. He smiled and went on.

—I'm talking about those gun-runners and the old firearms factory out on Pirate Cay.

—You helped the locals close that one. And the Feds probably owe you because of it. Why?

—I talked to Dell. The Feds want me to work on a case they haven't been having much luck with.

—Dell? Are you going to take it?

—I've been thinking about it. Business is down.

—It's seasonal. It's always like this at this time of year.

—I asked for a wad of money up front. Probably ten grand. Cash.

—They're paying you up front? With what? Drug proceeds that someone hasn't logged in?

—Probably.

He didn't tell her he'd take the money no matter where it came from.

—It'll mean trips into Mexico.

He hadn't meant to tell her that, either.

—Mexico? Are you sure you want to do freelance work with no backup? It's dangerous, Jim. And Mexico is no picnic if the Feds want you doing something for them. It's no picnic even if you aren't with the Feds.

—Yes, I've been thinking about that, too.

—We'll talk about it tonight, all right? You haven't made up your mind yet, have you?

—Of course not. Not until we've had a chance to discuss it. You know that.

Allie headed out in one of the cigarettes with a load of tourists. I figured it was a good time to retrieve my trusty Glock and the oversize, illegal magazines. I did a quick and simple field strip, eyes closed, kept them that way, and reassembled.

Piece of cake.

I didn't want Allie to know that I'd already accepted the assignment before I had a chance to wine and dine her. I hadn't counted on Erica watching from the doorway.

—You've got some wicked firepower by the look of it. Mind if I take a look?

—Are you a gun aficionado?

—A little. When he was alive my husband liked to take me to the range with him.

I checked the action. Satisfied it was empty, I passed her the modified Glock. She checked it, too. Obviously, she knew her firearms. A little, at least.

—How many rounds in those mags?

—Thirty-three each. And no, they're not legal.

—What's the balance like with one of those?

—It's all about control. It generates quite a kick in full auto. Hang on tight and pray.

—I would imagine.

—On the other hand, it'll put the fear of the Lord into anyone it's pointed at who hears it. It's the element of surprise. That, and no one ever thinks a handgun has that capability. It shocks the shit out of even professionals.

—Ever use one of those mags on the job?

—Yes.

I thought back to all the women I cared about and how I'd never been able to protect them. That always slowed me down. It was the main reason why I left the city police force.

—Yes I have.

—If you ever want to talk-

—Allie knows all about it. It's one of the reasons she's here. But thanks. We'll manage. I have to go into town. Do you and Lily need anything?

—You're going for ammo.

—Yes, I am.

—Are we safe here? My daughter, Lily—

—You're all safe here. There's nothing for any of you to worry about.

**I met up** with Dell, a fed, at a dive bar in the even more run-down east end. I scouted the place as best I could before sitting down in the dim, almost-dark interior. We'd been spending buddy time together since I helped the agency out on a gun factory case up the coast last year.

—Can you find a more decrepit place? There isn't even a porthole in the door.

—I wanted you to feel like you were back home.

I grinned and shook hands and settled into a seat across the table. It almost felt like I was back at work and about to bring in a paycheck. I'd be able to contribute something of value to the business, finally.

—How the hell have you been? And why did you pick me?

—Same old Jim, not wanting to waste time. We think there could be some links to a couple of assembly plants on mainland Mexico. With the climate in Washington and the fallout over sending those automatic rifles into Mexico, we've been directed to clean up our own mess for a change.

—It took long enough.

—Yeah, well, the check is in the mail, and I'm from the government and I'm here to help you.

—Thanks. Now help me convince Allie that this operation will be a good thing.

—Hell, no. You're on your own there. She knows too many ways to kill me and not get caught.

—That's what she keeps telling me, too. And it works, because I know it's true.

—We'll fly you and your crew into Brownsville-

I did a double take.

—Wait. What? My crew?

I wasn't expecting a crew. I was led to believe I'd be alone on this operation.

—Are they any good?

—Yeah. You'll have backup. Your cover is a rich American looking to become richer by smuggling components into Mexico for re-assembly into automatic weapons. Rifles. Pistols. You name it.

—Not so fast. My crew. Who are they, exactly?

—I wouldn't have hooked you up with any of them if I didn't think they were any good. I know better than that.

That was good enough for me. I trusted Dell. Even so, I wondered what he might be holding back.

—As a rich man with a sweet party yacht, you've got a couple of women on board as crew. And a yacht captain. All three are ours.

—Jesus Christ. You do want Allie to kill me, don't you? If she gets wind of any of this—

—Yeah. I know. My lips are sealed. The less you know about that part, the better—at least until you get to Texas.

—You better seal more than your lips if you know what's good for both of us. I'm more afraid of losing her than what I'm going to find in Mexico.

—Okay. Now that we have that settled. You'll meet up with your crew in Brownsville. In fact, they're already there, briefed and waiting. And if it's any consolation, they're just as nervous about you as you are of them.

And why wouldn't they be? They were going to be working with an unknown, too.

—I guess I'm into it now. Papers?

Dell handed over the file. It didn't surprise me that he had it all readily available. Once I said yes he wouldn't want to give me time or opportunity to change my mind.

—That's who you are and what you need to do. All the documents you need are there. Good luck.

—That's it? Good luck? You're not even going to buy me a drink to seal the deal?

—Sorry, pal. It's the new regulations. No more booze on the expense account.

—I wasn't talking about the government expense account. I was talking about your own pocket for a change.

Dell grinned, stood up and stuck out his hand.

—So was I. You'll spend a day getting to know the boat. The women are experienced crew-all of them. You might have to do some minor fill-in from the file I've given you, but for the most part they've already been briefed. Until I had you on board, I didn't want anyone knowing where this was going.

—Yeah, I'm on board, all right. Without a life jacket, and I'm too stupid to know enough to swim away.

I didn't mention I couldn't swim. It wouldn't do any good anyway. He looked at me and grinned again. There were far too many grins as far as I was concerned.

—I thought you didn't know how to swim.

I wondered where he learned that. He slipped a second envelope across the table before I could ask.

—Half in advance, as discussed.

**I picked up** the ammo at my favorite gun shop. To be on the safe side, I added flowers and a bottle of wine to my list, but I wouldn't be picking that up at the gun shop. I'd need all of it and then some if I was going to convince Allie that this job was a good thing. And it would be good.

The spare cash would go into the business. I'd get to feel like I was contributing more than just my limited abilities as a glorified dock hand. I knew that didn't matter to Allie and Hank. The trouble was, it mattered to me.

Allie's cigarette was tied up at the wharf by the time I returned. I left my firearm and ammunition in the trunk and went straight upstairs. She was already there, waiting. By the look of her, she could have worn a trail in the carpet.

—Yes, she called me.

Damn that woman to hell.

—Allie-

I didn't get a chance to say another word, even after putting the cash on the table.

—That's not going to cut it when I have to go into Mexico to sort through your parted-out remains.

—It might not, but it's a good start to setting more money towards the mortgage. Using it to pay incidentals would be untraceable.

—Well then, that certainly makes it all right. Every time I fish out a couple of bucks from the pickle jar to pay for minnows, I can thank you for rotting in a Mexican jail. Or worse.

—That's just harsh.

—Yes, it is. Who's your crew? Did Dell at least get you a competent crew?

—How did you know Dell was involved?

—Who else would it be? He's the one you worked with on the last caper.

—He assures me that he's got three of his most capable people waiting in Brownsville.

—Yeah, and just like you, they're probably not agents, either.

I knew she just might be right about that. I never thought to ask Dell. The feds could have provided me with forged documents on my crew.

—Look, I've been here sucking up oxygen and spitting out seawater, barely contributing to your business. I figured this would be a perfect opportunity to make a meaningful contribution the only way I know how. Maybe it was misguided. Maybe I should have talked about it with you sooner. I didn't. Next time.

—I'm hoping there won't be a next time, at least not anything to do with Mexico. Not even a vacation.

Allie took the flowers, kissed me, and we headed upstairs.

—Does this mean I've been forgiven?

—You're leaving tomorrow, aren't you? What else did you pick up besides flowers and a bottle of wine to get me drunk and take advantage?

—Chinese takeout.

—If you don't come back, I'll kill you when I find out you're not already dead.

There was no arguing with that.

* * *

**I MET WITH** the Captain on the boat before we were to head out on the shakedown cruise. Lindy was a tall, striking woman with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. She had a welcoming smile that took over her entire face.

The fact that under that uniform Lindy looked like she had a body to go along with everything else didn't help matters in the slightest. I was glad I wouldn't be spending time alone with this one. The temptation would probably end up being too much.

I've been known to be weak when it comes to an attractive woman. If the woman had a brain, I could be even weaker. I started to think my salvation would be having Lindy turn out to be an airhead, even if that was the last thing I needed on this assignment.

The two other crewmembers, Kara and Saskia, were both blonde. Outfitted with sharply pressed white shirts complete with epaulets and identical tan shorts of the appropriate length, they completed our crew. Blondes never appealed to me all that much, but these two were about on a par with what I suspected the Captain had to have beneath all those clothes.

I tried shutting it all out as Lindy ran the fans to clear the engine compartment. Three engines started and idled like fine watches. I might not be an old salt, but I knew something with three engines didn't come cheap.

—All right, Jim. Take her out.

In the cramped quarters of the helm, Lindy brushed against me and moved out of the way to make room.

I flashed back to my first day on the dock with Dell. I already knew the wind, a habit I had been forced to develop over the years that I had been involved with Hank and Allie's charter business.

To boot, all eyes were on me. I suspected everyone on the boat but me was a goddamn sailor.

—I've never handled anything this big.

—I thought not. Don't worry, I'm right behind you, and my arms are long, too, in case you didn't notice.

I noticed right off. Well, maybe second or third thing. I didn't say it, of course. Instead, I turned for a look. Her eyes crinkled and she smiled, and I think she already knew I was smitten. Women. A man can't live with them, and he sure as hell can't toss them overboard.

At least, not right away.

—Take her, Jim.

It became obvious that what I had been thinking hadn't gone unnoticed by the woman. Perhaps it was the way my eyes ran up and down her body when she introduced herself. It hadn't turned this one off.

It was just my luck that the damned wind was blowing the yacht against the dock. I'd never handled anything this big, but I recalled Dell's instructions and the dozens of times I put them to use on smaller craft. Kara must have suspected as much. She was already at the bow.

—Cast off. Hold the after bow spring.

I used the rudder and an engine to swing the stern away from the dock to counter the wind. The size of the yacht cramped my style, but I did it without too much mucking about. It had to be obvious to all of them that I'd never handled anything this big.

I waved at Kara and she waved to confirm, dropped the line and hauled it in. I silently thanked Dell as I reversed away from the wharf, headed into wind and made for the channel to the ocean.

—Not so bad, sailor. I can tell you've never handled anything like this, but I'm impressed just the same. You passed the test.

She turned to Saskia.

—Sass, take over. Come on, I'll show you what we've got below deck.

**What we had** was everything—everything in a yacht I wished we had back at our charter business. This beauty was fully outfitted with every single piece of equipment the business would need to cruise quite comfortably down the coast and into Mexican waters on our assignment.

—With three diesels and a full load, we can easily make over three hundred and fifty statute in no time. By early tomorrow night, we should be within striking distance of where we need to be. In fact, I'd say we're going to have to hole up overnight to kill time.

I had to admit, this floating house was sweet. Two private heads complete with a shared shower. Two queen beds, one in the stateroom and the other up front.

—About the sleeping arrangements—

—Don't worry about it. The forward stateroom is for crew. We have the aft all to ourselves. The head locks. The shower is on our side. Sass and Kara are both capable of doing some cooking. I can, too, but I don't like to if I don't have to.

—Good. I like to cook. I'll man up the galley for the duration.

Lindy gave me the once over, but I didn't care. It would give me time alone. It would remove me from the women and the temptations they presented in close quarters on this tub.

—Galley duty, you say. You're a man after my own heart.

—You'd better taste my efforts before you commit to marriage—or even a short engagement, for that matter.

Lindy chuckled and led me up front.

—Crew quarters. Pretty straightforward. We basically have all the comforts of home.

—I'd kill for something like this for our charter business.

—It was seized from a drug dealer. It doesn't show on the books. I know, because I checked.

She tilted her head and shrugged, still looking at me.

—No record of her anywhere whatsoever. Never registered.

I wondered if there was any way in hell I could end up getting this thing tied up at Allie's marina.

**We were on** the water for two or three hours, wringing the diesels out the entire time. Lindy took over from Sass, who went up front with Kara. They unbuttoned shirts, dropped shorts and commenced sunbathing in the high noon sunshine with nothing but bikini bottoms. If it was break time, I could go with that.

—Is that what's under yours, too?

I have to admit, I hesitated before I asked. I smiled nervously. She smiled back with a wide grin.

—That's for me to know.

—Well, if you want to join your crew, I'd be happy to take over. Piloting this thing is a dream come true for me.

Lindy stepped aside and kicked off her shoes. She dropped her shorts and unbuttoned her shirt. Her back arched as she removed it. Somehow, her breasts ended up pointed right at me. The bikini top left nothing to my imagination.

—You must be the shy one.

My eyes followed fine, muscled thighs and a matching firm, shapely bottom as she stopped at the walk-through windshield and turned. She knew I was looking. She caught me, too.

—Shall I send someone back to take over?

—As much as I'd like it, Lindy, I'd better stay back here.

—All right. I understand.

Those long legs topped by the tight rear took her out onto the foredeck. She looked back from the bow and I smiled and waved. She did a pirouette and then said something to Sass and Kara. They returned to join me at the helm.

—The Captain ordered us to take over. You're to go up front.

Kara struggled to close the walk-through. Before she succeeded, I overheard Saskia bet on how long it would take Lindy to get me into her bed. I pretended I hadn't heard.

—I knew you'd show up. Sit with me, Jim.

—Aye, Captain. It seems to me that your crew takes this Captain thing seriously. Should I, too?

—Well, I don't like to brag unless I'm trying to impress someone, but I am an actual seagoing Captain.

—And are you trying to impress me?

—Yes.

—You're doing a good job of it all round.

—I know. I noticed it, too.

She smiled, and I sagged onto the foot of her lounge.

—Lindy—

She dug a toe into my thigh. I made a grab for her foot and put it in my lap.

—Lindy.

—Yes.

I managed a sidelong look in the direction of the helm. I caught Saskia reaching into the crotch of her bikini. She handed off some bills to Kara. It looked like she was already paying off, and so far, nothing had happened. Then Lindy stood up, putting her amazing legs right in front of me.

—Let's take over the helm.

I didn't move. She held out her hand, like something had been settled between us. I didn't take it. Instead, I followed her past the walk-through.

—I've got it, Kara. Here, Jim. You take it. I'll show you some of the ropes.

She demonstrated power settings and radar and sonar and flipped switches to set power while making plane adjustments. Hands and fingers flew over the instruments and controls and switches as she demonstrated her competency.

—Am I going too fast for you?

She didn't wait for an answer. She sat next to me, relaxed her arm behind me on the seatback and turned towards me.

Out of the corner of my eye, in that instant, I never saw a more beautiful, a more desirable woman. Her hair flew in the breeze. Our thighs touched. Her hand rested on my shoulder. It didn't stop there. She stroked my neck. Her lips moved against my ear.

Sass shook her head and mouthed _Go_ from the foredeck. She looked at Kara. She just shook her head and shrugged. And then she mouthed _Go now_ one more time in case I missed it the first.

Lindy motioned to the women to take the helm.

I went. I was sure one of them slapped my ass, but I was too eager following Lindy to notice. Instead, I pretended not to. The sound of the high-five behind me wasn't much of a surprise. I tried to ignore that, too.

**Kara knocked and** stuck her head around the corner.

—We'll be in port in an hour, you two.

—Thank you, Kara. We'll be up top shortly.

Lindy went back to doing what she was doing. I pulled her head up for air and tried to convince her we should get sensible.

—The shower fits two. Come on. Get your backside off of that bed and into it. You can't head into port with a case of bedhead.

—And why not? I'm happy to have it, considering you're the man who helped me style it.

—They'll know. Dell will know. I can't have him knowing, Lindy.

—All right.

She sighed and held out her hand.

—Ready again? You're an eager one, aren't you?

I pulled her into the cramped shower.

—You started it.

—And you said yes. What's it going to be? Shower, or more of the same in there.

Her head tilted in the direction of the stateroom's bed.

—Damn you.

—And damn you. Let's enjoy it while we can, Jim. It will be all over soon enough. For both of us.

—Will it?

—I hope so.

* * *

**IT WASN'T EVEN** five a.m. when Kara and Saskia poked their heads through the open doorway into the dark stateroom. Lindy was fast asleep, whereas I contemplated turning on a light to admire more of the same. I came to my senses when the light actually came on.

I could confirm it was crew. Both of them. Grinning and checking us out like a couple of teenagers.

—Lindy. Jim. It's time. Your crew is here. Come on, you two. It's time. The fans are on. We're ready to head out.

Lindy sat up and brushed her fingers through her hair. The women laughed as she tried covering her body with nothing but hands.

—You guys. We took bets, you know.

—Who won?

—We both did, Jim. And in case you haven't noticed, we're happy for the two of you. Now come on. It's time to get ship-shape.

She switched out the light, but I could see Lindy's sweaty body rising from the bed. She climbed over me, pretending she wanted to be on the other side. She halted on the way. One at a time, her breasts hesitated as each brushed my lips and the hard tips fell into my open mouth. A hand moved farther south.

—Come on, Jim. I'm ready. So are you.

—We're going to have to save it. We don't have time.

Before I could move she settled onto me, needy and shuddering and crying out after only moments as she came hard and collapsed on me. I waited for her to roll off before dragging my tired butt out of bed. She made sure I could see her.

—It's the exact same thing I had on yesterday. What's to watch?

—You. Only you. They'll smell me on you.

—Ditto. This isn't good, is it?

—No. Even if your crew thinks it is. We need to talk.

—But first, we need to work. We can talk when we get back, Jim. If that's what you really want.

—It's too soon, Lindy. It's too soon.

She yelled up at the helm.

—Take her out, Sass. She's all yours.

—Aye, Captain. She's mine.

Lindy turned to face me.

—We've got about twenty or more hours together in tight quarters. Are we going to get it out of our systems now, or later?

She lay back on the bed and moved closer. I didn't push her away. I didn't move.

—It won't matter what we do. It won't be out of our systems ever. It's going to remain unresolved.

—Come on then. Let's get dressed and go topside. The crew would like to see us, I'm sure.

—All right. I'll cook breakfast after a suitable amount of time has elapsed. They're going to give us both a hard time.

—Yes, but only for a bit. That's why I want you there with me.

I followed topside. Kara was already focused on the chart for Tampico. Sass pretended to be busy setting our course into the nav system.

—Lindy, this thing isn't registered anywhere. I searched for info to give to the Coast Guard. Nothing.

—I should have told you. They've been informed about our course. They'll leave us alone.

—What about Mexican waters?

—We're left to our own devices. We'll play it by ear.

With everyone doing their jobs, I needed to start mine.

—Breakfast in half an hour. Who's up first?

I headed below, happy to have something to do to remove me from the scrutiny of the three women.

**We made good** time. In fact, we were ahead of schedule, just as Lindy predicted. The yacht was a fast one, all right.

—We're going to stop before dark. There's a boat paralleling us. It's probably nothing.

—Who is it?

—I can't tell. They're too far away. If they make a move in this direction when we stop, they're more than likely _Federales_.

—Great.

—Or pirates.

—Shit. Do we have any arms?

I hadn't divulged to anyone that I was loaded for bear. Or pirates, for that matter.

—We've got small arms. If those guys are Federales, it won't do us any good to reveal them. If you brought something on board, you'd better stash it, quick.

Out of the corner of my eye I witnessed Sass and Kara already stripping down to their form-fitting bathing suits. Lindy kept her clothes on, but she undid a couple of buttons and slipped a hand in to adjust.

She caught me leering and grinned.

—Something you'd like, Jim?

—In case you forgot, I've already liked.

The girls moved aft and jumped into the water, just in time for the inspection to begin. They splashed around, pretending to enjoy their predicament. If they were anything like me, they were nervous as hell. I was strung tighter than an anchor chain.

The Mexican coast guard circled slowly. The Captain appeared to concentrate his binocular-enhanced gaze on the women. After two circuits, he waved and powered off to the north. Our concern turned out to be for nothing. We hauled anchor and headed for a sandy beach backed by palm trees.

—Aren't we getting a bit close? What about the tide?

—We'll be good for a while.

Lindy retrieved a basket and a blanket and stepped off the stern into shallow water. I followed, but not before Sass and Kara reached in to trade more soggy cash. I smiled.

—I might not like to cook, but after yesterday, I found this old picnic basket. Sandwiches and a little something for us to drink.

We walked ashore and the boat moved out to sea and anchored.

—You three had this all worked out, didn't you?

—We've worked together before, yes.

—I'm not even going to ask. I don't need to know.

—They'll be having their own party. They like each other, and they get along well.

By the time the horn sounded to call us back to the yacht, I learned Lindy was a widow. Her husband got caught in a crossfire while working undercover on a drug investigation into a cartel in Mexico. She remained single ever since, keeping mostly to herself. Only the occasional man entered her life.

—Am I occasional?

—I don't know, Jim. Do you want to be?

Somehow, she knew she had weakened me. Hell, I had been like a dog worrying a bone. And she hadn't been much better.

—I think for now we're going to have to take it one hour at a time. So far, these have been some of the best hours yet.

Lindy looked at me. Serious. Her eyes narrowed a bit. She stroked my cheek with the back of her hand.

—I searched the numbers for this boat again before we left, Jim. It doesn't come up. Anywhere.

Lindy pulled on her bikini bottom.

—Help me with the top.

Lindy was a beautiful woman, no matter what she wore. I knew it, and so did she—although she didn't flaunt it so much now that I was on board in more ways than one. I tied her off, but not before helping her fit into it. She giggled at my fumbling.

Finally, between the two of us, we managed to get her top on and secured reasonably well.

—What are you telling me about the yacht?

—Don't you own a charter business somewhere? You figure it out.

**Lindy got us** on our way to the breakwater. In a matter of only a few hours, she throttled down and turned to head upriver to the agreed-upon meeting place at Malvinas.

—We'll fuel up at whatever looks like a marina. Cash is king down here. Check under the seat, would you, Jim?

Cash, gun parts, and boxes of ammunition stared back at me. I played ignorant.

—You never told me. What the hell is all this?

—We're loaded to the gunnels with parts of every type of modern firearm invented. The plan is to let them have it all. It's all been modified. Even a cad-cam program couldn't put that stuff back together again.

—I'm not worried about that. I'm worried about what they'll do to us when they find out.

—Hopefully, we'll be long gone by then. That's why we'll be taking on full fuel.

We idled into a makeshift marina to fill the tanks. In the hour before dusk we cast off and cruised slowly upriver to our meetup point.

—I hope you've got the nav set to backtrack. If we need to get out of here in the dark of night, that's the only way we'll be able to do it.

—That's the plan. Stall until dark. Hand over the goods. Get gone. Here we are.

Lindy pulled up to the wharf. Sass jumped ashore and tied off.

—Come on, Jim. It's time to look like a couple of lost tourists in love.

The look on Kara's face told me she didn't think that would be difficult.

—Cripes, you two. You look like a couple of teenagers holding hands like that.

—We're in Mexico. She won't let me hang onto anything else.

I slapped Lindy's rear. She rubbed and slapped me back.

—Come on, sailor. It's time.

Twilight crept up on us. By then, we were fed up with waiting. On edge and nervous, we'd about worn out the pretend tourist part of our cover and instead concentrated on staying alert. Either someone would show up to do business, or we'd end up getting robbed. Probably at gunpoint.

After all, this was Mexico, and we were transporting guns. Even if they were only gun parts. No one outside of the original conspirators could know that they were for cad-cam programming only.

**Kara and Sass** disappeared up front to sleep. I lounged up top in the bow with Lindy. We tried keeping our voices low, lest someone ashore overhear us.

—When we get back—

—When we get back, you'll end up where you started.

—Lindy—

—It's where you belong, Jim. Even I know that. What's happened between us is too much, too soon. No matter what happens here, we'll end up back in Brownsville, mission accomplished, or you'll end up taking the girls and the boat on to your girlfriend's charter business.

—I can't steal this boat. And I definitely can't end up tied to our wharf with two women in tow.

—You'll be able to. You might have to.

—What do you mean?

I waited for an answer that didn't come.

* * *

**THERE WAS NO** time for Lindy to explain. Vehicles approaching at a high rate of speed silenced both of us. Black SUVs screeched to a halt at the end of the road. Headlights stayed on to illuminate the yacht. We ended up sitting ducks in the bright light.

—Say, isn't that—

—Yes.

—Is he supposed to be here?

—Not that I know of. I'm going to go see what's up.

Lindy jumped ashore and proceeded down the wharf in the direction of the vehicles. The fans came on and shortly after our engines began their growling idle. It reassured me knowing the crew was paying attention.

—If we need to get out of here, don't worry about the ropes. They're breakaway.

—We're sitting deep in the water with all the fuel we took on.

—Kara will help you toss the weight overboard if we need to get out of here in a hurry. We'll do it underway.

Gunshots rang out. I caught the reflection of a muzzle flashing behind me. Three more times in quick succession and the lights on the SUV died. Whether Kara or Sass, the woman could shoot.

Sass directed the spot ashore. Lindy, down on her knees, faced us. I ran to retrieve my Glock and the magazines. On the way topside I slammed a mag home and jumped onto the wharf.

I worked my way up the pilings, stopping behind each one in an attempt to get a feel for what the hell was going on. Lindy remained on her knees. Dell lay crumpled beside her. That had to be the double tap I heard after the lights went out.

I dialed in full auto, gripped mag number two in my left hand, and prepared to spray and pray every single living thing in my path on the way to retrieve Lindy.

A single shot took out the spot on our boat. I aimed for the muzzle flash and tapped out a quick staccato burst in the general direction. A man screamed and went silent. The cat and mouse part of the rescue was beginning.

At the last piling I got down and bellied my way towards Lindy. I was right. Beside her, Dell looked to be dead. Lindy shook her head and I knew not to bother checking for a pulse.

—My leg. I can't walk. Go back to the boat, Jim. Go back. You have to get them out.

—I can't leave you.

—You have to or you'll die out here with me.

—You're not going to die. You have one left to tease me.

—What? What the hell are you talking about?

—Silly girl. Your leg. You have two of them.

—Goddammit, Jim, get your ass back to that boat and get the hell out of here before the Federales get to us. Before he died Dell told me we'd been made.

—I'm not leaving without you.

I tucked the Glock and the spare mag into my belt. I leaned to pick her up in time with another burst of gunfire pinging off the cement. I ignored it and carried Lindy the length of the road to the wharf as fast as I could.

I almost made the yacht when another shot rang out and something heavy thumped against my back. I struggled towards the boat bearing Lindy's full weight. Kara returned fire. Sass revved the engines and sounded the horn.

I was just about there. A chunk of cement caught a foot. I stumbled and went down, mere feet from the yacht. Lindy groaned as her leg bumped the gunnel. Another single shot rang out. Kara returned fire in the dark.

I stepped onto the yacht. Lindy exhaled and struggled to catch her breath. We were both on board. Someone firewalled the throttles and I toppled over. Lindy screamed. The yacht disappeared into the darkness.

We were running blind.

The women switched positions. Sass bent over Lindy in the darkness and began working on her. For spite I unloaded what was left of the mag in the direction of the wharf.

—Jim, get me the first aid kit. And find her bag. I'm going to need something to stop the bleeding.

—Her leg needs work, too.

Annoyed, she yelled, startling me.

—Then get busy on it!

In that instant I knew it was more than a leg wound. I stripped off my belt and hurried to wrap it around her thigh. I tied it off. The bleeding subsided, but I could tell by the wound that Lindy would be scarred for the rest of her life. There was something about working on a beautiful woman knowing that her life depended on me.

I pushed those thoughts out of my head and finished bandaging and splinting.

—How's your end doing?

Sass didn't answer. I looked for myself. Blood oozed out of the bullet wound in Lindy's back. I rolled her over and took her in my arms. She looked up at me and I knew.

Goddammit.

I knew.

—If you die on me—

I had to put my ear to her lips to hear what she wanted to tell me.

—The boat. Take the boat. You need it. Take it.

—We're out on the ocean. We'll be home in no time.

—Bullshit. We're twenty hours from home. If the Federales don't get us first. Before he died Dell told me someone sold us out. He didn't know who.

—If you die on me, I'll kill you.

—Too late. I'm already dead.

I carried Lindy below deck and put her on the bed. I climbed in beside her. I held her in my arms. I kissed her cheek. I teased her and begged her and screamed her name over and over.

Neither Sass nor Kara came down to find out what was going wrong. If they had, I'd have chased them topside.

Lindy hung on for ten hours in the bottom of the boat.

I didn't let go of her for another hour.

Finally, Sass came down. I wouldn't budge. Somehow she dragged me topside into the cool ocean air. I kept to the bow before finally joining them at the helm.

—I swung wide to try and avoid the Federale patrol boats. Whether it will be enough, I don't know.

—All we can do is try.

—Jim, Sass is getting out at Bagdad Beach. It's just across from Brownsville.

—What? Why?

—There's something she needs to do there. Don't ask questions.

—What about you? And where's Lindy? What did you do with her?

I went down to check on her, anxious that I hadn't taken her pulse right. Anxious that if she were still alive, I should be with her. She was already gone. Disappeared, as they said in Mexico.

_Desaparecido_.

—We had to let her go. We couldn't make the run with a body on board. If the Mexicans caught up to us, we'd all be dead.

—Damn you all to hell.

—You said your goodbyes. Let it go. It's better that way. Now take the helm. I have to help Sass get ready.

—All right. Go.

—After we drop her, you'll be taking me with you all the way.

I checked the throttle settings and the GPS. So far, on course. Going by the radar, we were in the clear.

**I trolled the** coast to Bagdad Beach with the tunes cranked up and the women in the bow, dancing and generally looking like they were having a good time. Kara signaled to cut the engines.

Sass disappeared, and after waiting a couple of minutes, I throttled up and headed north. We were so light after dumping our load, I made an executive decision to carry on to Corpus Christi with the fuel remaining.

—I'm going up front to sunbathe. If you need me, come and get me.

I watched her undress and lie back on the lounge. Damn but she had a hell of a body, too. I set the autopilot and went down to the lower deck. The mattress had to go. So did the sheets. If the Coast Guard came alongside and boarded, we'd be in the shit.

So much for sentimentality, and perhaps that's how Lindy would have wanted it. I'd never know now.

I wrestled the mattress over the side with the sheets. Lindy's bag and all of her clothes went next. Her badge and gun went last. The bullet holes in the hull would be hard to explain, but what the hell, a lie or two combined with a bit of bullshit should cover it off.

If that didn't work, it would have to be pirates.

—I was starting to wonder when you'd get that done. It's cathartic, isn't it?

She was right in front of me. Naked and still in sunbathing mode. Not shy at all. I made a point of checking her out, up and down and up again for good measure. Kara didn't even blush. Neither did I.

—I have to get back to the helm.

—I'll be up in a minute.

She joined me at the helm, fully clothed.

—You look good in clothes, too.

—I'll keep that in mind if there's ever another time.

—If there's ever another time, I'll already know, won't I?

—That must be some woman you have waiting for you.

—Yes. Just as much as Lindy was, too.

There was no sense denying it. I'd been taken with Lindy within hours of meeting the woman.

—You deserved each other.

I never did find out if she meant that in a good way.

**We took four** hour shifts at the helm. On the overlaps we kept it impersonal, but for one small detail.

—You didn't tell me why you're coming home with me. What's going on?

—Erica is my sister.

—What? Why didn't you say something?

—If I had, Lindy would never have been able to have the time she spent with you. You made her happy.

—It worked both ways. If it wasn't for Allie—

—Yeah, we all had that figured. You're quite a man.

I never found out whether she meant that in a good way or not, either.

**We were closing** on Panama Crossing and the breakwater. In minutes we'd be tied up at our dock.

—Drop me ashore and head back to sea. I'll see if I can scare someone up to attach a rope. Your business will be able to claim salvage rights.

—I don't think that's going to be a problem. There's no record of this barge anywhere, so I've been told.

—You're right, but just in case—

—Yeah, just in case. Now get your fine little ass ashore and do your duty.

Kara grinned at me.

—I thought you'd never notice.

—Oh, I noticed all right.

I shook my head at my own stupidity before letting her off. I firewalled the throttles and pointed the bow in the direction of the open sea past the breakwater. I wasn't concerned about a fine at this point.

**By the time** the boat ended up towed ashore, my welcome was pretty much wore out. The bullet holes in the hull didn't make Allie any happier. In fact, she looked like she wanted to put a few holes in me.

I tried to ignore the dirty look, and instead explained that we'd salvaged the yacht for the business. Hank's eyes lit up. They lit up even more when he searched online and couldn't find any sign that the yacht had a previous registration.

I explained as best I could that the woman I brought with me was Erica's sister. That seemed to calm things down a bit, especially when Erica arrived at the dock from her trip to town.

Whatever happened to Sass, I had no idea. If Kara knew, she wasn't talking. I suspect she was only here to wait for the chance to join her in her search for the traitor.

If they found him, I sure as hell didn't want to be a part of it.

###

Mexico Gamble

Jim Nash Adventure #6

A beautiful woman. A knife-throwing sister. An unpaid debt. Jim Nash is long on memory and short on forgiveness in this Mexico adventure featuring boats, women, good times, and bad fortune for at least one of his girlfriend Allie's former employees.

**LILY RAN THE** length of the wharf to greet the fancy yacht in the process of docking at the wharf. She recognized Jim and waved, knowing he was too busy to return the greeting. Suddenly, she halted partway down the wharf, did a double take, and turned as though to run back to shore. She screamed.

—Aunt Kara!

She turned around again and ran back to her mother as she too came out to greet the yacht. Lily changed her mind again, halted, and trotted back to the yacht floating against the wharf.

—Aunt Kara. Aunt Kara. What are you doing here?

Jim's eyes widened.

—What? You're Erica's sister?

Kara looked away, across the horizon.

—Yeah. No. I wanted to tell you, but I figured the less you knew about family, the better for all of us.

—Kara—

She didn't give me a chance to finish.

—What happens at sea stays at sea.

It was like she could read my mind.

—Thanks. I'll remember that.

—No problemo, Jimbo. Do I look presentable?

—That's part of the trouble on this barge. You always look presentable. In case you haven't noticed, that's been a problem for me.

—Yeah, I noticed that right off.

She grinned. I shook my head at my own stupidity.

—Get your butt off of my boat, Miss Smartass.

I cut the engines and turned off the bilges. Kara tied off and scooped Lily into her arms.

—Where's your mother, dear? I need to have a word.

—Where have you been? How come you're with Uncle Jim?

—It's a long story, Lily. Oh. There she is.

**In spite of** bullet holes and shattered fiberglass, I figured the yacht would be a welcome addition to the charter company's small fleet. It was the least I could do, given that I was a draw on finances as Allie and Hank tried to get the business up and operating in the black.

Hank had recently stuffed a lot of it up his nose, but a back-to-back stint in rehab put him on the right track. So did his sister, who decked him with one punch when she realized the extent of his addiction.

Given that the yacht's registration was off the books, it would probably stay tied up until Hank and Allie could figure out a way to get it on their own books.

I wasn't looking forward to climbing onto the dock. Already I knew I'd be subjected to a dozen questions and skeptical looks from just about every woman in my life. Both Allie and Erica wouldn't cut me any slack, I knew for a fact.

It would be up to Kara to parry most of the questions, and judging by the way she was engaging with her sister, I didn't hold up much hope that she'd keep her mouth shut.

In other words, those two women were tight.

I busied myself with dropping the fenders and checking the tie-downs and making sure the boat wouldn't float away with the tide. Finally I could no longer avoid the obvious.

—Allie, what do you think of the new addition to your fleet?

She switched from a happy grin to a stern look as she placed her hands on her hips.

—What, you didn't patch her up to try to convince me that the operation was a piece of cake?

—Well—

—Yeah, well. How about that. Now give me a hug, you beach bum. Hank and Erica and I have been taking up your slack. Even Lily is helping out. Zelda, not so much. It's time you went back to work.

—Umm, about that—

She shook her head.

—Nope. Not gonna work this time. Get your ass up to the office.

—Allie, there's something you need to know.

Kara appeared at my side like a shadow.

—Did you tell her about Dell?

I breathed a sigh of relief at the distraction I knew would shock Allie. Hell, it even shocked me when it happened.

—Dell? What about him?

—He was killed in Mexico.

A look crossed Allie's face the likes of which I'd never before seen. It occurred to me that perhaps she'd had a thing for Dell before I showed up.

—No. What happened?

She halted in her tracks. Kara looked to Allie and then back to me.

—We think there was an informant. A sniper took him out and killed my partner. If Jim hadn't have been there, it would have been a lot worse.

The crap was in the fan. I knew Allie wasn't going to take this lying down, especially now that she knew how dangerous the operation had been.

—Jim—

—Don't be hard on him, Allie. He did everything he could, and then some. More than that, I can't say. And neither can he.

Kara looked at me. Case closed, as far as she was concerned. I silently thanked her. She had to know by the look on my face I was relieved.

—So then, it's over? No more going into Mexico?

Kara dived into that one, too.

—Well, besides losing one of our team, we had to let another swim to shore in Mexican waters. She's wandering around Bagdad Beach on the Mexico side looking for the traitor.

—We think it's Steve.

—Steve? Our Steve?

—That would be the one.

Kara dived in for the second time, exactly what I was afraid of.

—I have to check in. We might need the boat again for a quick trip. Do you think it would be all right?

I shook my head. Once in the fold, I knew I'd never be set free until someone farther up the chain said so. I didn't doubt that even my liaison with Lindy would be used until they had all they could get out of me.

—Go make your calls. We'll get some Chinese and talk it over while you're gone.

Allie wasn't happy with the turn of events. She was grinning, and she was bearing it, but I was going to be in a boatload of trouble.

I couldn't blame her.

**The food finished** and the inane conversation over and done with, I couldn't avoid facing the music any longer.

—So you're certain the informer was Steve? How did they find out?

—Phone record intel. They ran some metadata searches, did some background checks.

—Why wouldn't they have told us about it?

—Need to know, so they say. We didn't need to know to accomplish what we set out to do.

—Yeah, right. We know how that turned out, don't we?

I pushed back from the table.

—Come on, Allie. We need to talk.

Kara spoke up before I could get her away.

—Jim, we'll be heading out first thing in the morning. I'll check the boat over and fuel and oil her if that's all right.

—Don't forget to pay for it. And there's docking fees to go with it. A couple of grand plus the fuel costs should cover it.

It was Allie's turn to give me a second dirty look.

—Jim, it doesn't cost anything near that to dock here.

—It does now.

—Don't worry, Allie. The agency will cover it off.

We left Hank and Erica and Kara and headed upstairs to the loft.

—Do you have to go again? I had a look at the holes in that thing when you weren't around. You'd have sunk had there been a few below the water line.

—We got lucky, Allie. You don't want to know how lucky. Now it looks like I'm going to be forced into doing another run on that tub. I knew it was too good to be true that I'd be able to get it for the business.

—Maybe it's for the better. It could be jinxed.

—It is jinxed. And if I have my druthers, I'll scuttle that barge before sailing it back here. You can take that to the bank. Or the mortgage holder.

—We could use another boat. Just not that one, okay?

—I hear you loud and clear.

The business needed the boat, but after what happened, I couldn't agree more. Two dead, and a traitor in the mix. I knew now I should have scuttled it before letting Kara talk me into bringing it home.

I didn't need the reminders of dangerous deception nor the memories that went with it.

* * *

**I TOOK HER** out past the breakwater and headed for open water. Minutes into the Gulf, Kara stripped down to her bathing suit and moved up front. Her top came off and she rolled over onto her stomach.

She made sure that the flat of her feet and two firm cheeks stared back at me. Her bikini bottom barely covered up the important parts. Sure enough, she reached back to adjust and even more skin saw the light of day, if that was possible.

I turned back to the panel, checked the numbers, and soldiered on. The trouble with modern boats was that once everything was set up, there was nothing to do but keep watch to make sure we didn't hit anything.

Kara became the entertainment. Secure in the knowledge now that I'd noticed her breasts, she didn't bother to cover up as she climbed back-and-forth from the bow to the stateroom. She had to be doing it on purpose.

If so, it was working. I couldn't tear my eyes away.

—Rub this on my back, would you? I don't want to get a sunburn.

If that were true, perhaps she would have put on a shirt. I did my duty and tried to keep looking into her eyes when she turned around unexpectedly on purpose. My hand halted mid-breast.

—Sorry.

—It's all right.

She smiled and took the oil.

—If you want some, it'll be up front.

I managed to get my mouth closed before the drool reached the end of my chin. To say women were my downfall would be an understatement. I never understood it, and I never figured it out.

I wasn't so innocent, either.

**The boat was** faster than we both knew. Lindy was right. I struggled to control it, finally giving up as we ran into twilight. We had to stop to kill time, and I knew by the way Kara was looking at me that I'd be struggling to control something else, too.

I eased off and let the boat drift into the lee of a sand spit covered in low scrub and salt grass. I dropped anchor and Kara made a point of dropping her bikini bottom.

—Come on, Captain, let's go for a swim.

Somehow, the bikini thing seemed to be just a bit unnecessary. After all, a bikini was actually a bathing suit. Nevertheless, I followed her tanned twin cheeks and long, lithe legs as she dived in.

—Lindy told Sass you were a good lover.

She never said another word. She just grinned. I shook my head.

—You're a good man, too. Don't ever forget that part.

—Come on. It's time to enjoy the sunset.

—Listen. Can you hear it? It sounds like a party. Let's put ashore and see what's going on.

We put on some clothes and ambled ashore in the shallow water with a bottle of tequila and a six-pack of Sol. The way that woman sucked back the tequila, I knew I could never keep up. Even so, I bent elbows once to her twice. By the time I bent mine half a dozen times and washed it down with the Sol, we were loaded.

**My body felt** like it had been in a train wreck. I opened my eyes and held up shaking hands. I couldn't hold them steady. My stomach gurgled. I pushed out of bed, went down on my knees, got back up, and stumbled to the head. I bent over and gripped the porcelain. I puked up everything left in me again and again.

Then, still not satisfied, dry heaves took over. I felt better, but it wasn't immediate. I rubbed water over my face, scrubbed the sleep and the puke away, and drank a bucket.

Kara edged in beside of me.

—Jesus, woman, put some clothes on.

—That's not what you said last night in the restroom.

—What? I said no such thing.

—Well, judging by what's going on with you, I'd say you liked the sample I gave away last night. Did you happen to notice anything?

I cast a glance over my reflection in the full-length mirror.

—Jesus, woman, what did you do to me?

—Don't forget to take a good look at me. I'd say that question goes double.

I shook my head at my stupidity. Thank goodness I'd been drunk, or who knows what would have happened between us.

—Did we—

Kara didn't answer. Instead, she staggered back to bed. Scratches on her hips and thighs mirrored my own.

—Come on. We might as well be comfortable. We still have a couple of hours before we have to be somewhere.

I wasn't sure what she meant we should do, but I stumbled into bed beside her. I needed to if I was going to go to work at some point in the day.

—Judging by what you've got going on, I'd say you didn't get enough last night.

—Then we did?

—I'm not talking. And neither should you. But just so you know, drunk as a skunk, I like the reaction I'm able to get from you.

Her eyes moved down.

—I like what I see, too.

I rolled onto my side and tried to ignore the woman beside me. I knew better. I always did. Unfortunately, knowing better didn't always work.

—Christ, you smell like you've been with a man.

—Yes, I do, don't I? Now turn over and face the music. I want to be with that man again.

I couldn't argue with that. The woman wouldn't let me.

**Kara handed over** the bottle of oil.

—I need you to do this again.

At least she had her top on this time. I rubbed oil over a muscled back. I traced bruises and scratches that weren't there when we pulled out of port up north.

—Are you still wondering?

I resigned myself to a life of guilt—at least for a few minutes.

—No. Whoever it was did a good job.

—Yes. He did. And I gave as good as I got.

There was no longer any doubt about that, either. I had just as many scratches, thanks to this woman's frenzied love-making.

—Can we put this behind us? We have a job to do, and if this interferes—

—It won't with me. Can you say the same?

I ignored her. I went back to the controls and observed the well-oiled woman glistening in the sunlight. She turned to face me and dropped her top.

—You might as well get used to it.

I made sure to look.

—Let me know when you've had enough, Jim.

I made sure I kept looking in case she changed her mind.

**I had to** give the woman credit. She was the first to hear the almost silent boat approach. We scurried into our skivvies and covered up the rest as best we could.

— _Buenos noches_.

I already knew Kara spoke fluent Spanish. I edged close to where I stashed my pistol and kept watch over her.

—Buenos noches, amigos. Who sent you?

We knew we were supposed to be meeting up with someone. We didn't know who, or how many.

—I can see you are enjoying the scenery.

He looked Kara up and down.

—You are a lucky man.

— _Gracias_.

It was true. I figured I might as well agree.

—The man you are looking for has been found. Do you have the fee?

The fee? What the hell? No one told me about this. Slowly, Kara moved to the bow and opened a hatch. She dragged out a bag and tossed it into the boat.

—I won't take up any more of your time. I know the amount will be correct. Enjoy the scenery, _amigo_. You too, _amiga_.

He waved and powered off to the south.

—It looks like our cover is good, at least.

—Christ, Jim, we've been going it like rabbits since I got you drunk in that bar. Of course it's good.

She finally admitted it. I was glad of that. Like I was an angel.

—And don't think you're innocent in any of it. You're just as guilty. You couldn't keep your hands off of me in that shithole bar, either.

I had to admit it was true. At first, it was part of the act. The more tequila she fed me, the further my hands wandered. She hadn't slapped them away. I didn't know if I should be glad of that or not.

—Don't be pleading not guilty, Kara. You're just as bad as me.

—Probably. Now let's get going. We have somewhere we need to be.

She opened the envelope and pulled out a sheet of paper. She read it and handed it over to me.

**I left a** long knife on the seat, just in case Mexican customs might take exception to its being there. I figured if they did anything about the knife, it would throw them off the scent of my firearm stashed beneath a gunnel.

They didn't even notice.

Following a cursory inspection of the boat, and a much more detailed inspection of Kara's every curve in the tight cutoffs and loose shirt, we were allowed into the country. Hell, Kara's fine form made it easy to ignore everything else.

I was so impressed, I checked her out, too.

She grinned, and I knew right away she'd been doing it more for me than the man in the customs uniform. I grinned back like a kid caught with my hand in a candy jar. In fact, she'd caught more than my hands in places I didn't want to admit.

We idled our way to the wharf beside the _Loro Azul_ cantina, tied up, and stepped back in time. The Blue Parrot's filthy windows blocked every last bit of light. What came in through the door only served to smear the room. A dirt floor was packed hard by decades of customers.

—Check the guy at the end of the bar.

She nodded in his direction. Sure enough, it was the boat captain who had caught us with our pants down.

—I told you to keep your pants on.

—You did no such thing, and even if you had—

—I know. It wouldn't have done any good. Will it ever?

—Probably not. Come on, he's calling our names.

— _Señorita_. It's so nice to see you again. Not so much of you this time, no?

—Do you have the package?

Kara wasn't in the mood to waste time with the _cabrón_. Nor did I want her to. I was feeling rather protective now that I knew her better.

—Si. I know where the package is.

—That's not the same thing. We were assured that the package would be in custody.

—I can take you to him if you like, señorita.

I barely heard her whisper.

—What do you think? Should we run with it?

—I don't think we have a choice. If we want to get our hands on the package, we'll have to do what he says.

—The question is, do we trust him?

—You will need to take me back to your boat. The location is about twenty minutes distant.

* * *

**THE BOAT ROCKED** against creaking moorings. Water slapped rhythmically against the hull.

—Someone's on board.

I shook Kara before jumping out of bed. I grabbed my automatic, rammed home an oversize mag and went topside to investigate.

—Put some clothes on, Kara, just in case.

Instead, she went for her knife. As usual with that woman, she didn't listen. She must have figured two naked people in a fight would offer better odds. I needed to talk to her about that, but not right away.

The sound of a footstep put me on heightened alert. I motioned for Kara to go around the back side and meet me in the middle. Neither of us was prepared for what we encountered.

—Erica. What the hell are you doing here?

She took one look at me. She took another at her sister. It was pretty hard not to notice that we were naked as jaybirds. Her eyes went wide and she scowled.

—Jesus Christ, you two. Why am I not surprised?

She kept shaking her head.

—Jim, put something on. Kara, I've seen you naked since you were born. In any case, go with Jim and try to keep your hands off of each other while you get dressed.

—Kara, what the hell is she doing here?

—I don't know. I didn't have anything to do with it.

—If I find out—

—No, Jim. I didn't. Please believe me.

When the saltwater settled, it turned out that Erica had a charter run for a couple of millionaires and their girlfriends. She put into port a couple of hours behind us. When she recognized the yacht and its bullet-holes, she went to investigate. She wanted to know if we were safe.

—Erica, you can't be here. You'll blow our cover. If that happens, any one or all of us could end up dead.

—If you're not careful, you'll be the dead one if Allie finds out what the hell is going on. And in case you didn't notice, you two were the ones without covers.

Kara snickered. She was no help. In fact, I started to think that she just might want things to go south between Allie and me.

—There's nothing going on.

Erica rolled her eyes. I had to admit, it had to be hard to ignore that we were both naked and covered in scratches. I think Kara might have even had a few hickeys on her rear.

—Yeah, right. You're both naked.

She nodded in the direction of the sleeping arrangements.

—And sharing a bed. I'm a woman. I can tell by the stink on both of you that something has been going on.

Caught out, I turned beet-red. It was Kara's turn to shake her head, but she didn't say a word.

—It's the only place there is to get some shuteye.

—Yeah, and it was so hot that you both had to get naked and claw your way to the top of the sheets. Judging by the look of you, you've both done your share of clawing.

—I don't want to change the subject, Erica, but you have to get out of here. Right now. I don't want you to end up dead because you were just passing by. If certain people find out you know us, you might just end up as a pawn in their game.

At last Kara chimed in.

—He's right, sis. Make yourself scarce. And remember—what happens in Mexico stays in Mexico.

Erica gave me a last dirty look as though I was the one who had sullied her sister's reputation. I knew if I told the truth, she wouldn't believe me.

On the other hand, I probably didn't know the truth.

**Kara was more** than a little contrite following her sister's departure.

—I need to talk to her. She has to know it was all my fault.

As much as I wanted to, I couldn't let her.

—Thanks for the offer, but you can't. If someone sees the two of you together, you could be putting your sister in danger. We could be under surveillance. They might already know there was a stranger on the boat. If they see you with her, they'll know she was no stranger.

—You're right. I should have listened right off the bat and neither of us would be in this situation.

I grinned.

—On the positive side, we're both dressed now. Let's try and keep it that way, okay?

A scream echoed across the marina. We looked at each other and knew who it was.

—We're in the shit now.

Doors slammed, tires squealed on pavement, and we were definitely in it a lot more than ankle-deep.

—If she gets away from us, we'll never find her in this shithole of a town. There's too many back alleys.

—I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there's someone else on our boat.

We took our time making our way back. Sass greeted us with a jaunty wave, a smile and a question.

—Where the hell have you two been? Ever since I jumped ship I've been waiting for a pickup.

—In that case, we're here now. And we need you to pay for your ride home. Where the hell is Steve? And what are you doing here?

—Steve is connected to the car that sped out of here with that woman. I'm pretty sure I know where they're headed. And before you ask, I'll tell you. I confirmed it. Steve is dirty.

Kara would have to find her sister. She wouldn't be about leaving blood behind.

—Sass, that was my sister in the car. And she's not there for her health. She's been kidnapped. She isn't in on this deal. She was hired to do a charter for some rich bitches and recognized our boat when she pulled into port.

—We think we're being watched. They must have grabbed her when they saw her talking to us.

This was turning into a mess a lot faster than we anticipated.

—We have to find her and get her out of here before she gets hurt.

**Sass was our** only hope. She spent time onshore doing what only she knew. It would be up to her, or no one.

—Sass, we need you to lead us to Erica. Kara won't be satisfied until we at least try. And you must know what's going on, otherwise-

She interrupted.

—I can do it. Let me make some phone calls.

While we waited, I consoled Kara with a hug and an arm draped around her waist. I let her kiss me. Or maybe I kissed her. Sass must have seen us, because she asked.

—How long?

I knew she'd been upset when Lindy and I hooked up the first time we crewed a boat down here. Our mission had failed. Lindy had been killed. What more was there to be said?

She walked up to me and slapped me, hard.

—You bastard.

Kara made a grab for her and led her away. I tried to listen in, but their argument was conducted almost in whispers. I gave them a few minutes before interrupting.

—We have to get going. The longer we let Erica stay with those men, the more chance she could be hurt or used to get to us.

—You're right. Come on, Kara. I've got a car in the lot.

To anyone watching, it would look like we were aimlessly cruising the streets and taking in the sights while Sass checked for a tail.

Satisfied, she made a beeline for a huge, dilapidated warehouse at the end of a dirt alley. She halted a hundred yards away and walked us to the building. Like the operation we closed up north, this one also fronted on the water. Light glowed from windows on all sides. All we had to do was make our way to get a look inside.

Armed guards prevented that. And they weren't armed with just any firearms. They had AKs hanging off of their shoulders.

Kara snugged up her cutoffs, slapped her ass, and headed to the man under the first streetlight.

—Oh-oh. She's going to try that old number again.

These women had been operating together for so long they had routines. I had to ask.

—Which number would that be?

—Just wait and see for yourself. Come on, she might need backup.

Sass pulled me into the shadows against the wall.

—Watch and learn.

**I must have** missed it when I turned to Sass to ask what the hell I was supposed to watch. I shouldn't have, because when I turned back, a man was on the ground. It was obvious Kara had taken him down. I missed that part, too.

What I didn't miss changed my entire perception of the woman. She bent, pulled the knife out of the man, and wiped her blade on his shirt. She looked briefly in our direction as she tucked the knife into the small of her back. She began moving towards the next sentry.

—Jesus, is she going to do all of them?

—Don't ever cross her. She can do it in her sleep.

Sass looked in my direction and grinned.

—Are you worried now? You should be. If that woman falls for you, you'll be in big trouble. She's scared of nothing and no one. And she's got a body that goes with it.

—I know. I've seen the body.

—I thought so. At least you're honest about it. I'll try to help if need be, but I can't promise anything. Now come on. We have some cleanup to do.

Intent on tidying up after hurricane Kara, we dragged bodies to the shoreline and slipped them into the water. By the time Kara finished, four bodies, one for each corner of the building, floated in the drink.

I had to admit, Kara was effective at what she did. Who would have known that the sweet, sexy, lovely Kara, the woman whose bed I had been invited into and shared pillow talk with, was a killing machine?

I gave my head a shake and wondered no more.

When the time came, I sure as hell hoped she'd keep her blade sheathed, and not be tempted to stick it in me. My record with women hadn't been so good up to now.

She could literally turn the tide against me if I ever had cause to give her grief.

* * *

**WE BROUGHT UP** the rear and followed Kara's lead to a window. I grabbed her rear to balance her as she climbed for a look inside.

—You like grabbing my ass, don't you?

—Could we concentrate on the job here?

Fine words coming from a man who had just witnessed the woman do four sentries.

—She's there. They've got her tied to a chair. Steve is the one doing the questioning.

She jumped down.

—Jim, she's not going to be able to tell them anything. She doesn't know anything. She won't even be able to make shit up that they'll believe. They'll kill her, thinking she wouldn't talk.

I wracked my brain, wanting to come up with something, anything, to help Erica, Kara's sister. I came up empty. By the looks on the faces of the two women, we were all in the same boat.

—Our odds are pretty good. There's only three of them, counting Steve.

—We have the element of surprise, but not much else. When lead starts flying, Erica will be in the middle of it.

I checked my Glock. I dialed back to auto. There'd be no spray and pray in this gunfight. I called it that, because that's the way it would be—a fight to the death.

I was hoping the death wouldn't be Erica's. Judging by the way Kara had dispatched the four sentries, I figured she knew how to skin things, too. I had no doubt that woman would skin me alive if her sister's death turned out to be my fault.

We backtracked to try to figure out some strategy that would get us into the building unnoticed.

—I say we walk in, calm as can be.

—I can't do that.

—Why not?

The questioning looks had me figured for a coward.

—Steve knows me. He'd have that woman dead in a heartbeat.

The look quickly changed to one of relief. I went from cowardly bum to- what, I didn't know.

—Then it's up to Kara and me. We'll have to depend on you for backup.

I had no problem with that. In fact, now I wanted Steve to escape from the building so that I could confront him.

—I'll be your backup.

**Erica screamed, and** I knew there'd be no holding Kara back. I didn't hesitate. Neither did Sass. All three of us ran into the building, smack into a wall like a bunch of Keystone cops.

—Jesus Christ, why didn't we do a recon, at least?

—It would have taken too much time.

—Thank you. Now go right. Kara, go left. I'll go down the middle once I figure a way through this wall.

Nervous giggling from two women assaulted my ears. I joined them. What the hell, we were getting into a gunfight. Why not relieve the tension with a last laugh, at least?

—All right. Now go. Go.

They went. I held back for just twenty seconds.

I don't know how we did it, but we timed it perfectly. Whatever the hell Steve was busy doing, he barely had time to react. He ducked behind a stack of fuel drums. A shelf collapsed. Boxes flew in every direction.

I made my way out of the building. I already knew he'd have to come towards me to get out. There was no other door.

**It seemed like** an eternity for me, this waiting in the dark. In actuality, it was only minutes before Steve exited the building, as I anticipated he would. He halted when I came out of the shadows to confront him with the raised muzzle of my Glock.

—Did you think you were going to get away with killing Dell and not suffer any consequences?

—Yeah, I do. You don't have the balls to do me in cold blood.

He thought he knew me.

—You're right, Steve. I can't do it. Tell me why you had Dell killed. I need to know.

I lowered the muzzle to the ground. He started to walk away. The bastard didn't even run. That's how confident he was that I couldn't pull the trigger, and that's when I knew he'd never tell me. I raised the gun and aimed.

At the same instant I pulled the trigger, a flash of silver reflected in the overhead light. Kara's knife found home and Steve's legs gave out as he collapsed to the ground. Whether it was my gunshot or Kara's knife finishing the job, I didn't know.

In a heap on the ground, Steve tried to crawl away using only his arms. His legs were dead. Whether by my bullet or Kara's knife, the man's spine had been severed, rendering his legs useless. I walked up to him and landed a blow with my foot to kick away the pistol in his hand. It skidded across the ground.

—It looks like you were wrong, Steve. I am capable of pulling the trigger. For good measure, Kara's blade is stuck in your back.

A look of confusion appeared on his face, to be replaced with the dead expression that took over as he noisily exhaled his last breath through a gurgling groan.

—It only took a bullet and a blade.

I pushed him over with a foot and struggled to extract Kara's knife from the man's back. She'd delivered it with such force that it had gone in deep. As a last measure, I checked for a pulse before wiping the blade on his shirt. I tucked it into my belt.

Kara and Sass were busy untying Erica. She was bloody but unbowed, as only the woman could be. I handed the knife to Kara.

—He's done.

She only nodded. Her sister was talking non-stop.

—Sweet Jesus, it took you all long enough.

She glared at me.

—Did you stop for a threesome along the way, or what?

—Erica—

—I'll talk to her, Jim. She's all worked up. She knows we wouldn't have left her here, no matter what.

I collected Sass.

—We'll wait.

We headed for the car.

—You're damned right you will.

I knew it wasn't a threat. Or a command. It just was.

—What's been going on, Jim? Why is Erica so steamed at you? You just rescued her.

—It's a long story, and it involves Kara.

—I don't want to know any more. Forget that I asked.

—Done.

I slipped deeper into examining my own damned shortcomings and wondered when and where it all would end.

**The deal was** that we would hook up at the marina in the morning and the boats would head north together. Kara would spend the night with Erica on her boat. When my boat swayed in the middle of the night, I knew who it was.

Clothes rustled and a warm, naked body pulled the sheet down and slipped into bed beside me. Warm arms wanting something to hold went around me.

I never could say no.

—Are you all right?

—Yes. No. I don't know.

Three answers, and they all made sense to me.

—Whatever you want, you can have.

—I don't want to think about that, Jim. I want to forget about it.

So did I. Together, with some help from a bottle of tequila, we managed to forget about it until sunrise.

**I felt the** boat swaying again. Someone was aboard. I left Kara sleeping in bed with a tequila hangover and went for my pistol.

Erica. All sunshiny and with a smile so big it worried me.

—Get your shit together, you two. It's time to sail. You've got ten minutes before we head out.

She turned to face me before stepping off.

—Put that damned gun away. And put the other one away while you're at it. My sister has had enough of it. She doesn't need a man like you in her life. Come to think of it, no woman does. Why Allie puts up with you, I'll never know.

She stomped off to board her boat.

I went below to wake Kara. I spent a long time looking at her. She looked so relaxed. She was at peace, it seemed, somewhere in a dream. A half-smile curled her lips and gave her the cutest look.

Damn but she was a beautiful woman. I never would have figured her for a stone cold killer if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes.

—Kara.

I shook her shoulder. She opened an eye. She smiled, and patted the bed beside her.

—While you're up—

I wanted to. It would be easy to ditch the return accompanying Erica's charter boat and stay in Mexico for another day. And another night. The trouble with that was that it would turn into another, and another, and I knew it.

Did I say that I wanted to?

—It's time, girl. We have to get a move on.

—Erica?

—Yes.

—All right. I need to get dressed alone, okay? I don't need you watching me—as much as I like it.

I had us underway by the time Kara made topside. She opened the walk-through and took up her position on the deck chair. It was where she was when I first met her. A lot had happened since then.

A radio call from Erica's boat had me come along side. Kara climbed aboard. I pulled away. I waved. She nodded, and turned to her sister. They hugged, and Erica gave Kara the helm.

I knew I'd never see her again. I also knew it was probably for the best.

For all of us.

###

No Picnic

Jim Nash Adventure #7

Jim Nash is back in Mexico to come to the aid of a former flame that just happens to be handy with a knife. This time, he's starting out with a boatload of trouble already on board. Two women who won't allow him to say no to their demands are coming along for the ride. It's a foregone conclusion that this trip will definitely not be going well for Jim.

**ALLIE TOOK THE** news of Dell's death hard. I didn't know how hard until she told me they had been seeing each other well before I arrived on the scene. She told him about me, and explained how much heartache and trouble I got her mixed up in back in the city.

She insisted it wasn't all my fault. She had to accept some of the blame. They were pretty serious as a couple when she called me to come and help her out. Once he knew about the relationship, Dell backed off and left the two of us to figure out where we stood.

Had it been me, I don't know if I could have done the same thing and step back. Perhaps if I'd known from the start that she and Dell were an item, I would never have made a move on Allie. I might have given both of them a lot of space. That she wasn't capable of saying no didn't bother me in the slightest.

I liked Dell right off. He seemed to be a good man. His partner working with him at Allie's charter business wasn't such an angel. Down in Mexico he ended up turning traitor and killing two people, Dell and my lover, Lindy. He would have killed all of us, too, if we hadn't gotten lucky and managed to float our way out of Dodge in a sweet yacht that I wanted to bring home.

The bullet I sent his way and Kara's knife sticking out of Steve's back did the deed to avenge Dell's death and that of Lindy. Knowing that both of us were capable of doing the deed appeared to assuage doubt that we had about one another.

**The ringing phone** awakened us to breaking daylight. I ignored it, feigning sleep. Allie crawled over me and out of bed to shut the damned thing up. When it began ringing again, she answered and handed it over.

—It's for you.

—Who is it?

—I don't know. I didn't ask. It's a woman.

She sounded more than a little annoyed.

—I don't let women call me anymore since I moved in with you.

—Take the damned phone, Jim. I want to go back to sleep.

Allie had finally allowed herself a much needed day off, so I did what any man would do in my situation. I kissed the girl beside me in bed on the cheek, took the phone, and listened. I sat bolt-upright. Allie wasn't so sleepy that she didn't know something was wrong.

—What is it?

She reached across to turn on the light.

—It's nothing. Go back to sleep.

Like she'd listen.

—It's not nothing. You're white as a ghost. What's going on?

I wanted to lie. She'd see right through me. The woman always could, even when it was important that she didn't.

—I'm going to have to load up a boat and take a trip for a couple of days.

Pounding on the door interrupted the speech I was preparing. For once I looked forward to seeing who it was.

—Allie! Jim! Get up. I need to talk to you.

Well, perhaps not. Erica was in a panic. Right off I knew she'd gotten the same call. This wasn't going to be anything to look forward to.

—Why did you hang up on her?

—What? I didn't hang up on anyone. I just talked to her.

—She said you hung up. Why? What's wrong with you?

Allie was just as upset.

—Erica. Calm down. Will one of you tell me what's going on? And Jim, where do you think you're going with a boat all by yourself?

Already I knew what was coming. I was sure of it, and I knew I wouldn't be capable of saying no or stopping it.

**By the time** I was out of bed and dressed, Erica was in an even worse state of panic, if that was possible.

—Kara is in trouble. She needs help. She's south of the border again. She says she got caught up in a smuggling and counterfeit ring. Sass is with her.

She paused long enough to take a breath.

Allie's eyes bored into mine. I'd been home for a month. Things weren't going well for us. I think Allie suspected something had gone on between Kara and me. She didn't ask questions, but I knew it was in the background, festering.

I couldn't blame her. She knew me. She knew what I was like back in the city. When it came to women, I was weak. It was like I was still back in college. She cut me a lot of slack until it had almost done her in.

In fact, it had done her in. Thanks to me, she quit a job she was good at and came down to the coast to help her brother run the family business. Her only mistake had been calling me down to help her get through a rough patch with her brother's drug addiction.

When I fixed that, she kept me on. They both kept me on. I figured there had to be something good in it for me. I couldn't swim, and I knew absolutely nothing about boats.

That's when Dell took pity on me and showed me some of the ropes. I didn't hang myself. Instead, I learned some knots and soldiered on, and became a part of the business. I helped and contributed where I could, and stayed out of the financials.

I liked it that way.

And I liked it even more when Allie walked through the door at the end of the day and talked business and problems and solutions that I'd never know. I liked being her sounding board.

I refused to offer advice, mostly because I didn't have any. Instead, I listened. I must have been good at that, because most of the time she seemed happy to have me.

So why was I always screwing it up?

**Even so. There'd** be no talking Allie out of this deal. Erica either, by the look of it. Whatever the deal was. Whatever Sass and Kara had got themselves into down Mexico way. Again.

After Erica almost exposed one of our ops, she'd been wise to me. She caught wind of what was going on when she surprised us on our last mission. She knew I was doing something in Mexico that involved her sister. She just didn't know what. She didn't trust me. She didn't want me involved with her sister.

Allie was on a mission now. Both of them were. They were loyal to each other ever since Allie hired her to do dive work. Erica and Lily fit in perfectly. Hell, she and Hank had finally fallen in love.

—I'll pack some coolers with food. Erica, you set Lily up with Hank. Explain what's going on. He'll look after things until we get back.

I threw clothes for two into a bag and went for my automatic. In twenty minutes, we were at the wharf. Hank was already fueling the boat. Lily helped as best she could.

—I packed this for you, mom.

Without looking, Erica threw the bag in the boat, hugged her daughter, kissed Hank like I hardly ever saw a woman kiss a man, and climbed aboard. I untied while Hank pushed us off, and we were gone, headed past the breakwater towards open sea.

I needed to know what Kara told her sister about the op she was on.

—All right. Now that we're ship-shape, what the hell is going on? Kara didn't tell me much. She's down on Bagdad Beach with Sass. She asked me to come and get them.

—Erica, you need to know Jim isn't capable of saying no. When a friend asks, he's as good as committed.

Allie looked at me for longer than need be. Immediately, I was nervous. I had plenty to hide as far as Kara was concerned. Erica knew all about it, too.

She'd gone to the trouble of letting me know that her lips were sealed, but I knew women. They talked. I figured it was only a matter of time before she spilled her guts to Allie. Women do that.

After all, the women hit it off when they met in Key West. They became good friends when Allie offered Erica a job as a diving instructor. There was no reason to think that one would hold out on the other. Furthermore, she and her daughter, Lily, were getting on with Allie's brother, Hank.

There was no percentage in me stepping between all that. And here I was stepping in it again, on the hook to rescue Kara and Sass.

—When this is over, I'm getting a new phone number.

—No you won't. You'll keep this one, just in case you're ever needed. Like you were this morning.

Shit. I had two women with me on this op. And I had no clue in hell what the mission would entail. Past the breakwater I firewalled the throttles on the three diesels. I trimmed to level and checked the GPS. I made sure the bow pointed in the direction of Bagdad Beach and keyed the lat and long into the nav system as backup.

—I hope you two brought your passports. If this thing goes south on us, we might have to go overland to get home.

* * *

**I MOTIONED FOR** Erica to take the helm and went up front to sit with Allie.

—You know, Jim, this is the first time I've had a chance to take a good look at this yacht. You must have cut a sweet deal to get your hands on her.

I couldn't tell her the whole story. By the time Lindy convinced me to grab the boat, Dell lay dead on the dock in Tampico. Lindy ended up taken out by the same sniper. I managed to get to her in time to throw her over my shoulder and haul her off the dock.

I wasn't quick enough. The shooter slammed another bullet into her as I carried her towards the safety of the yacht. By some miracle I got her on board. She bled out in the stateroom below deck. She died in my arms. The worst part was putting her overboard. I was damned if I was going to let anyone help me with that.

You might call me a bear for punishment. You might call me a lot of things. But that's all right. I knew most of the words. They were all true.

The yacht was a sweet deal, all right. So sweet that, so far, everyone I cared about ended up getting themselves killed on my watch.

—There's a phone ringing somewhere.

—Hank must have put one in your bag. It's probably Kara.

Erica motioned for me to take the phone. I went back to the helm and turned away from Allie. I shouldn't have, I know.

I had to.

Erica nodded.

Even she agreed with me.

**Kara's voice answered** my own. I was taken aback by the panicked tone and her nervous, high-pitched voice. I knew her well enough that it made me uncomfortable.

—Are you all right? Are you safe?

—Yes. No. I don't know.

I'd heard Kara say that before. It was right before we parted company, and right before we made an unspoken agreement to never see one another again. Now here we were, in the thick of it once more.

—Jim—

—It's all right, Kara. I'm on my way.

I was on my way, all right. What the hell I was going to do when I got there was another matter.

—That man told me you and Erica and Allie were coming for me. Is that true? It can't be, can it? You're not bringing her, are you?

—I had to. I couldn't talk them out of it. They're all with me. Sit tight. We'll be there in a couple of hours. Do what you can to lay low and keep out of sight. Is Sass all right?

—Sass is good as far as I can tell. When I told her you were coming, she shook her head. She wants to know if the scars have healed.

That was Sass all right.

—Tell her I'm still working on them.

I would be for a long time. They were mostly on the inside now. By the look of it, I'd be getting some fresh ones, and not the kind Kara left on me.

—Hurry, Jim.

—I'm doing the best I can. I'll be there for you. We all will. Erica is here, too.

—I told her not to come. It's too dangerous. She has Lily to look after.

—Apparently, she thinks she has you to look after, too. She has to keep us apart, and that could end up being a full time job for her, as much as I hate to admit it.

—Jim—

—Don't say it. Please don't say it.

—Jim—

—I know, Kara. Dammit, but I know. I'll be there.

I pushed the button on the sat phone. Allie wasn't in the bow. She was behind me, looking at me, with a quizzical expression.

—Well?

—They're going to have to batten down the hatches and wait it out. We can't get there any faster.

I climbed topside and checked the throttles. They didn't budge. I made sure they were firewalled since leaving the breakwater behind.

**What I wanted** to do was go and hide somewhere. Anywhere. Unfortunately, all the bunk space was full of memories. Like I needed those right now. Hell, the entire boat was filled with memories, none of which I could shut out. If that wasn't bad enough, topside I had two women who probably wanted to skin me alive.

This was going to turn into one long, giant flashback, something I didn't need in my life about now. Hell, I didn't need it in my life at any time. The chickens were about to come home to roost.

The only trouble with that was, I didn't know diddly-squat about farming, either.

I pulled the charts for the area surrounding Bagdad Beach. Since my last foray into Mexico, I made sure to pick up current charts, just in case. Already, just in case had turned into necessity.

The Mexican beach wasn't far from the border. Even so, Bagdad Beach was far enough that there was no chance in hell we'd be able to beach on the American side and pretend to be gringo tourists out for a day in the sun.

—When we get a bit closer, you ladies are going to have to don your suits. The skimpier, the better.

Right away, Erica went below. Allie stayed in the bow, rummaged through her bag, and came up with something that wasn't much larger than a small handkerchief.

I watched as she stripped, her hair flying in the breeze. When it came time for the top, she made sure to turn towards me. The grin on her face pretty much told me everything I needed to know. I was disappointed when she got everything covered with nothing more than two bandaids.

—Oh miss. It's not a good idea to distract the admiral of the fleet. He might run aground out here.

—Yeah, you'll run this thing aground all right. What's with the blood in the master suite?

Shit. I tried the innocent tack.

—Blood? What are you talking about. There's no blood there.

Double shit. So much for my swabbing the deck abilities.

—That's because you probably didn't look today. Are you going to explain what's going on, what went on, and what you're going to do to fix everything?

I knew I couldn't do any of that. At least, not if I wanted to keep living with Allie. She cut me a lot of slack in our past lives, but this was supposed to be forever.

It was starting to look like it might not be. I wasn't sure if I could handle that. I didn't want to find out until I got to Kara and Sass.

**I went forward** in time for Erica to hand me the phone.

—Kara won't talk to me. She wants you.

—Don't feel bad. It's normal. She's under a lot of pressure. She wants some assurance that we're on the way and we're going to be able to get to her before it's too late.

—Are we?

I stared her down for longer than I should have. And mostly because I didn't know for sure.

—Yes.

I wanted to leave it at that, but I had to take the call.

—We're almost there, girl. Hang on for just a bit more, okay?

—I'm trying not to lose it, Jim. Sass is in it deep. I can't save her. I can't.

—Yes, you can. You just have to figure out what it is that will buy her some time. Undress and dance naked if you have to. I know that would buy a hell of a lot of time for the right man.

She giggled through the sat phone.

—You always did know how to cheer a girl up. When can I dance naked for you again?

—It's not going to be for a while. We have got to get both of you out of there. I'll be the one dancing naked when I do.

I didn't let on that I was beginning to think that this might be another Tampico.

—You know we'll hold you to that. Sass wants to know if you'll dance for her, too.

—Only on a tabletop.

—Hurry, Jim. Please.

My past record of keeping the women I cared about alive and safe wasn't good. Now I was stuck with two women on a boat, ostensibly here to help me, but more likely to keep an eye on me.

Neither had experience in field operations. How could I get them to do something when I knew they would have no idea what I was talking about? I began to think that the odds that I'd be able to get Kara and Sass safely out of their predicament weren't good.

I didn't like thinking about it in the slightest.

* * *

**WE WERE WITHIN** striking distance of Bagdad Beach. I scoured the area with the binoculars. North of the popular beach and distant from the tourists and their parked vehicles, shacks stretched out in a single line facing the gulf. _Lanchas_ were aground in front of many of them.

The south was populated with colorful umbrellas, beach chairs, adults, kids, all out for the picnic atmosphere. _Palapas_ grouped together helped to lend the appearance of a giant beach party.

If Kara and Sass were somewhere in that morass of humanity, I'd never find them.

—The next time Kara calls, see if she has any idea where she is so we can locate her in that mess.

I let Erica take the helm.

—See how close you can get me. One of you is going to have to stay with the boat. We can't chance it getting stolen.

I allowed Allie to contemplate that. She knew there'd be no holding back Erica. Kara was in danger, and she was her sister. She also knew that I'd be the one spearheading the charge.

And somehow, I knew she'd never let me do it alone, with or without Erica.

—We're all going, Jim.

—Allie—

—We'll all go. That's final.

I knew better than to argue, especially in front of Erica.

—Bring the sat phone. We're going to need to talk to Kara to find out where she is.

I tossed out the anchor and waded ashore.

Already it was getting late in the day. Beach-goers were beginning to thin out. Cars began plugging the only road to the city, fifteen miles distant. Soon only hardcore partiers and those trying to pull an all-nighter would remain.

I had no idea where to start. I scoped out so many places on the back side of the beach selling food and drink and beachwear that I started to think I'd never find them. On the plus side, many were beginning to close now that foot traffic was in a hurry to get home.

—Let's spread out and see what we can see.

—What are we looking for?

—I don't know. Has Kara called back yet? Last I talked to her I let her know we were about an hour out.

—No. Nothing.

—Jim.

—What is it now, Allie?

I was on edge, and beginning to get annoyed with two traveling companions that I didn't want to be here.

—Look over there.

A cloud of smoke began rising about a quarter-mile down the beach.

—That'll be Kara.

Allie looked questioningly at me. I could tell she knew about us. How, I didn't know. In any case, I didn't have time to try and figure it out. There were more pressing matters.

—How do you know it's her?

—I just know. Let's get a move on.

I had to give her credit. She didn't hesitate. She got the jump and started out ahead of me. Erica brought up the rear. As we got closer to the blaze, I signaled them to stop.

**I made a grab** for a couple of kids running away from the blaze.

— _No habla ingles_.

I let them go and instead concentrated on the few adults still standing around with their hands in their pockets.

—I'm looking for two women. Has anyone seen them? Tall. Nice bodies. Good legs. Anyone?

Hell, probably eighty percent of the women on the beach today looked like that.

—Si, señor. Two just came out of the building and left no more than a few minutes ago.

He pointed towards a parking lot.

—We're too late. They already left.

The women followed me to the lot. A huge camper bus pulled out just as we dashed onto the pavement. Kara looked out the rear window and frantically waved.

I waved to let her know I'd seen her. She disappeared. Someone must have knocked her down. Where before she had been in a position to call in, now it appeared that she had been taken prisoner.

—Jim, how would Kara have gotten our sat phone number?

I sensed Allie had been putting two and two together.

—Probably from Hank. She had Erica's number, remember? Erica, did you remember to bring your phone?

—No. I left it with Hank so he could take Kara's calls and let her know I had the sat phone.

That seemed to satisfy Allie. How long it would last, I didn't know. I didn't want emotions coming into the situation as it stood right now. There'd be plenty of time for that later.

That, and recriminations would soon follow.

**The parking lot** attendant must have put up a gallant fight to try and prevent the bus from being stolen, but it was obvious he came out last in the fight. He picked himself up off the pavement and brushed himself off. He limped into the building and closed the door. I knocked, and he reluctantly opened it.

—Si?

_Dos señoritas_.

—Si?

—Who took them onto the bus?

He looked from me to Erica and Allie and back to me. He didn't seem too enthused about answering.

—Smugglers.

—Drug smugglers?

—No. People smugglers. They send women to the Middle East for old men.

How the hell did that figure into what Sass and Kara were doing down here? Either their investigation had gone sideways on them, or Kara had lied to me, and Sass had backed up her lies.

Erica and Allie were looking at me like I was supposed to know what was going on. I didn't say a word. Instead, I put my head down and started jogging in the direction of our boat.

From the murmuring going on behind me I could tell they were as confused as I was, and they had started out knowing even less than I did. Nothing was making any sense.

I stopped at a bodega on the beach trying to catch the nighttime traffic. I grabbed a coffee and hoped for the best. I looked out over the ocean. There was nothing to tell me where the boat had been.

—Are you sure this is where we came ashore? It doesn't look familiar.

—I marked it. This building was right in front of us.

—Then it looks like we lost the boat along with everything else today.

The whole crew was on a downer now. Not only had we lost Kara to whoever had kidnapped her and Sass, but we were without our boat. There was no chance in hell we'd ever see that again.

—Jim.

I didn't answer. I was too busy feeling sorry for all of us.

—Jim.

—What?

I was exasperated and fed up.

—Look.

I looked. The boat was going by at a slow idle. It turned towards shore, stopped and drifted aground.

—Allie, you need to swim up to that thing and ask to come aboard. Do whatever you have to distract them. I'll be right behind you.

—What am I supposed to do?

Erica wanted in on the action, but Allie was having none of it.

—Not a thing. You get to stay here and watch the action.

It went fast and smooth. Two grinning men helped Allie into the boat. She dropped her top in gratitude, bent over the wheel and stuck out her rear. While all eyes were concentrated on center stage, I eased aboard and put a chill on the lap dance the boys thought they were about to receive. I tossed everyone overboard without so much as a fight.

The water had a cooling effect on their ardor. We were now the proud owners of our boat.

Again.

**Erica took the** helm and headed us out to sea to pause and regroup.

—Allie?

The two women were grinning at each other like a couple of Cheshire cats.

—You can put your top back on now.

That was my cue. I grabbed her hand and pulled her below deck. Erica called out from above.

—You forgot your top.

I led her to the stateroom where I had held Lindy in my arms until she died. I didn't think of that, though. I wanted to enjoy the woman I loved more than anything else in the world—even if I couldn't admit it to myself.

I was such a cheating bastard.

* * *

**I MANAGED TO** get a call through to Hank. I had to know if Kara had talked to him while we were screwing things up onshore. All he had for me was an image she managed to send. With the limits of our sat phone, I wouldn't be able to receive it.

I let Hank know our best bet would be an internet cafe. For that, we'd have to find a marina and hunker down for the night. I crossed my fingers and finally idled up to a dock.

The place didn't look half bad in the dark. They even had a sign advertising their internet service. I made my way to one dilapidated desktop with a dirty screen and no mouse.

I managed to pull down the image, but I couldn't make anything of it. I loaded it into an image enhancement program someone had installed and tried doing the contrast and brightness thing. It still didn't make sense.

I turned it sideways, and then upside-down. That didn't help, either. I got out of my chair and moved back half a dozen steps. The fresh perspective hit me like a brick. I ran back to the boat and began untying. Allie was still fueling. Erica had gone astray to pick up food.

—We have to go. Now.

—But Erica—

—Never mind Erica. Now, Allie. Get your ass in gear.

I ran the fans and took a chance after only a minute. I fired up the triple diesels and they settled into their satisfying rumble.

—Drop the fuel nozzle. Get on board or I'll leave without you.

She dropped it on the dock and climbed on.

—Are you going to tell me what's going on?

—This is where they've got the women.

—Are you sure? Then they've got Erica, too. Why did you leave without her?

—Because if we stayed, we'd be next. Erica won't be coming back until we go for all three of them.

—That can't be. You got out all right.

—I think I got lucky. Trust me. This is the place.

I didn't know how I managed to pull it off, but the horseshoe I had up my ass was beginning to hurt. I was pretty sure it wouldn't be long before I'd need nails to keep it attached.

**I beached the** boat a decent distance from the marina. Satisfied, I dropped the anchor. With only Allie for help, I figured I was about at the bottom of the barrel, if not past it.

—I'd really like it if you stayed on board.

—Yes, well, if you think that's going to happen with Erica and her sister and that other woman in trouble, you'd better find a woman who'll listen. I sure as hell won't.

I already knew that. I was proud of her for stating it in such a direct way.

—Okay. Well—

I hesitated.

—You don't have a plan, do you?

—Hell, woman, I don't even know where the women are stashed.

Allie went below deck and returned a few minutes later in her bikini and a sarong.

—I'd do you.

—You already have. If you want to keep doing me, you'd better get your act together and give me some assurance that you're going to keep it that way. _Hablo?_

—Yes. Si. You never told me you spoke Spanish.

—You never asked. Now dig out your pistol. I know you've got it here somewhere. If you didn't bring it, you're about to be in even deeper shit when I don't come back.

Allie walked along the shore in the direction of the marina. I waited. Allie was right. She didn't come back. I figured I'd been left holding the bag for four women. If I didn't want that to ever come back to haunt me, I'd pretty much have to be dead.

I checked the mags and did a field strip of the pistol. I needed to spend more time at the range if I was going to hang out with these broads. Even back in the city I hardly ever had the pistol out of its holster. Since hooking up with Allie, it had become a regular occurrence.

There were no lights on the dock. When full-on night hit, I'd be able to come and go as I pleased. I damned well wanted to please four women by getting them out of this shithole and back to civilization.

**The moonless night** set in for good. I fired up the GPS and the radar and scouted the area. I located a spot that looked like I could put ashore without disturbing anyone.

I backed the boat off the sandbar where Allie had beached it, cut the engine, and floated with the current past the building. I went on full alert, careful not to make a sound in the inky black night.

Voices confirmed where the women were being held. There were three buildings. Only one was lit up. All I needed to do was get ashore, get in, and get out.

Piece of cake. Yeah, that, and I had a nagging feeling it was going to be the whole cake with a side of pie.

I went in cold. I didn't even bang on the door. I thought if I was nonchalant enough about it I'd be able to get away with a lot more than if I barged in like a SWAT team.

— _Hola_.

I spotted Kara, plain as day. She recognized my voice and tensed. Whoever was in charge hadn't been smart enough to tie that one up. Considering what she was capable of, I suspected she had been holding back, waiting for a chance to free her sister.

Now she had one more woman to worry about. Although Allie probably wasn't her favorite, she knew she'd have to free her, too, if she wanted to keep me happy. This was starting to get more complicated the more I thought about it.

I tried not to think about it. I had to concentrate on the immediate task.

If I could get to Kara, I'd be able to arm her first. She was the only one with the balls and the knowledge to help me out of my predicament. She was also the one closest to where her knife had been put on the table.

Now I knew why she favored it. No one figured on her being able to handle it the way she did.

I dialed in auto on the automatic and put three into the tin roof. Heads dropped, guns came out and the free-for-all began.

I switched to full auto, steadied the pistol with both hands, and put a burst into the wall above everyone. I didn't want anyone thinking they were special. If they didn't know the sound of an AK, they'd think someone was firing on them with one.

It was good enough to keep heads down. Kara knew better. She'd seen me in action. She made a dive for the table and picked up her knife. Already her eyes were boring in on the target she knew to be closest.

In a split second the man went to the ground. A knife stuck out of his throat up to the hilt. I set off a round of covering fire while Kara retrieved her blade.

Damned if she didn't take the time to wipe it on the guilty party's shirt. That had to be a thing with her. Which was fine by me as long as she had her hand on the hilt and was ready for the next one.

She pointed in the direction of her sister and Allie. I followed with my eyes. I couldn't see either of them. They had to be behind a barricade of some sort. I shook my head.

She motioned for me to follow. I angled across the warehouse in the direction she waved. Sure enough, Erica was there, half hidden by a post. I didn't have a view of Allie, but I figured she was just out of sight beside Erica. We were about to be home free.

Until the shit hit the fan.

**It all went** to hell in a handbasket in a split second. Allie screamed. Erica dropped to the floor. My eyes went to Kara. She gripped the blade, raised her arm, and held the position. From where I stood, it looked like she was taking a bead on Allie.

—Kara. No. Don't do it.

She wouldn't look at me. Her forearm began its motion, pulling all the way back. She was going to throw whether I wanted her to or not. She released as I brought up the pistol. I aimed in her direction. I could have pulled the trigger. I could have. At least, that's what I told myself.

I didn't.

I tried to follow the blur. I was a split second late. Allie fell out of sight onto the floor.

—God damn you Kara. You'll pay for this.

She looked at me like I was some kind of fool and then went into ignore mode. She was hugging Erica and crying and laughing at the same time.

I made my way to where I last saw Allie. Having witnessed Kara's ability with a knife, I was certain I'd find a mess waiting for me. For Kara's sake, Allie had better be alive.

She was laid out on the floor in a pool of blood. She grunted. Her legs kicked and got no traction. Her arms flailed. She couldn't quite manage to get the dead man with the knife stuck in his chest off of her.

I rolled the body over, yanked on Kara's knife, and was rewarded by Allie screaming my name over and over.

—Whose knife? Where did the knife—

I was so happy I could barely talk.

—Come on, girl. Someone has some laundry to do.

Allie's bikini was covered in blood. I dragged her over to Erica and Kara.

—Where's Sass?

—They took her into the other building. Don't ask me why.

—Let's go get her.

I handed Kara her knife. I probably didn't need to say it, but I did anyway. I didn't want any misunderstanding.

—You two stay here. We don't need you getting in the way. Understand?

They stayed put like bad puppies. I turned to Kara.

—I thought you were—

Allie looked from Kara to me and back, obviously confused, and obviously not knowing what we were talking about.

—What do you think I am, Jim? I could never do that to you. You must know that.

I knew it, but I wouldn't admit it. I figured it was safer that way, having her think I doubted her. In fact I did doubt her, but she didn't need that confirmed right now.

—Come on. We still have one to look out for.

**We scoured the** building high and low. We didn't find Sass. No clothes. No blood. No teeth. No bits of hair. Nothing left behind. She could be anywhere.

—She must have gotten clean away.

—If she did, she's a better woman than I am.

—That's not true, and we both know it.

—Jim—

We looked at each other across a huge divide. That divide was Allie and my fractured relationship with her. Even so, I still found myself going all soft and mushy. I didn't think that was exactly what Kara wanted.

—I'm sorry we couldn't have our time together. Maybe in another life.

—Maybe. If we ever do get together, it will be good. Count on it.

We hugged, and hugged again. I wanted to kiss her, and I think she sensed that.

—I can't. I just can't, Jim. We can't. We have others to think about right now.

**Allie and Erica** were deep in subdued conversation by the time Kara and I got it together and made our way back to them. They shut up when they heard us coming. It was as though something had been decided between them. I was betting it involved Erica's sister, Kara.

Unspoken, perhaps, but involving her just the same. I was in deep shit, or I'd been handed a new lease on life. I'd take it either way. I was happy to have Allie back. And Kara. Erica too. No one had been injured.

—Let's head for the boat and blow this pop stand. Foreign travel isn't all it's cracked up to be.

It appeared as though Kara was having second thoughts.

—I should stay for Sass. What if she shows up and I'm not here?

—Kara—

—Jim, shut up. This isn't about you any more.

Erica pulled her sister aside. I couldn't hear a word, but after looking at me three times, they approached Allie. Again, they ignored me, and this time, I was worried.

It was three against one, and the one was a man and the three were women.

The boat ride home with three women cackling and laughing and giggling and looking sideways at me as I manned the helm didn't do my worry factor any good. By the time I tied up at the dock, I was exhausted.

I was also worried about what was coming next. I didn't have to worry for long.

—Jim, Kara is going to be staying with me until she gets her head straight.

Allie had to be in on it. She wouldn't have permitted it otherwise. I looked at her, but she only gave back cold shoulder. Obviously I had a fair bit of kissing up to do. By now I was good at it, though.

Hank and Lily were the final nail in the coffin. The looks those two had on their faces at the sight of Erica and Kara was beyond belief.

—Well, dear, what do you say we call it a night?

**I called it** a night, but not before looking out the bedroom window. Kara was on the end of the wharf, under the light. I should have been there with her.

Every night for a month, when I looked for her, she was there.

Until one night she wasn't.

The putt-putt of a boat approached the wharf. I slipped out of bed, looked across the wharf, and witnessed Sass stepping off of her boat. The women hugged. Kara tossed her bag over the jackline and together they climbed aboard.

Kara looked up at the window. I wanted to wave. I tried. I couldn't. I was still hurting, too.

Sass turned the boat and powered off in the direction of the breakwater. Sails unfurled and they were gone.

I wished her well. I wished her much happiness. No matter what she did or where she went or who she did it with.

What else could a man do when he was in love with two women?

###

### More by P X Duke

Twisted Sisters

Detective Jim Nash has a problem. He has a murder victim in an alley and a dead woman in his bed. His own homicide division wants to charge him with murder. To say he's got serious commitment problems would be an understatement. He's on the lookout for twins, but he doesn't want to date them. He wants to know who murdered them. A modern pulp short story.

Dreams Die Fast

Frank is headed home after spending a long winter on the Baja. When his motorcycle breaks down, he's trapped in an old ghost town on the west side of the Salton Sea. A woman takes pity on Frank and invites him over for a home-cooked meal. Before he knows it, Frank is knee-deep in cartel drugs with a woman itching to pull the trigger on the gun she's pointing at his back.

Dreams Die Hard

Frank is back on the road with a reformed junkie on the run from a cartel hit squad riding bitch on the back of his motorcycle. When the duo end up working at a strip club, the seedy edge of the city finally catches up, forcing Frank to dig deep within to triumph over drugs, greed, arson and murder. Some adult content.

Fast Food Slow Waitress

A biker hits all the high spots (or the low spots, depending on your point of view). These short stories find him at a peeler bar off the 15 in Montana; encountering a hitch-hiker off the 10 in New Mexico; being sweet-talked by his landlady; romancing a truck-driving sweetheart in a sleeper at a California truck stop; flirting with a waitress in a restaurant in the high desert. This is an updated and revised version of First Time and other stories previously published.

Dead Reckoning

During a well-deserved R&R on mainland Mexico, Harry picks up something he doesn't own that forces him to flee across the Sea of Cortez to the Baja. While hiding out on an isolated beach, two mysterious gringas show up to complicate Harry's life by attempting to implicate him in their own scheme, resulting in a mad dash up the Baja to escape the consequences of their actions.

Long Way Home

When Harry's ex-wife, Sasha, and their daughter accompany her oil-company boyfriend on a working vacation to Africa, the trio goes missing. They get out a call for help that will lead Harry on an air and ground chase across the Horn of Africa to rescue his family before kidnappers can move them to their den on the Indian Ocean.

Out of the Past

Harry's comfortable family life is turned upside down when he gets a phone call from a former comrade he thought long dead. When the second call comes in an hour later, the caller asks for his help. He knows his life will never be the same until he can learn what happened to the woman who launched a rescue mission to save his life after his plane was destroyed during a firefight on a bush landing strip in East Africa.

### About the author

Aviator. Motorcycle rider. Vagabond. Drifter. Trouble-maker. Jack of all trades and master of none. I've been riding and writing about the places I've been and the people I've seen for many years. Some of my writing is factual; some of it isn't. I leave it up readers to decide for themselves those lies that could be the truth.

http://pxduke.com

author@pxduke.com

