Page 6 of Blue Velvet

  Beau nodded curtly. "I said I'd take you wherever you wanted to go. It was part of the bargain."

  Brenden flushed. "Ah, yes, the bargain. Well, at least you appear to be a man who keeps his prom­ises." He started to walk away, then paused, his wistful gaze returning to the wild free beauty of the billowing sails. For a moment his expression once again revealed that he was full of the dreams he'd said he'd abandoned. "Did you know that John Hancock was rumored to be a smuggler, Mr. Lantry?"

  Four

  Kate could feel her eyes sting and burn with unshed tears but she blinked them determinedly away. Jeffrey looked so lonely despite the jaunty set of his shoulders as he jumped lightly out of the dinghy and strode rapidly up the pier away from them. She waited until he'd rounded the corner at the end of the dock before she turned to Beau, who was standing beside her at the rail of the Searcher. "He's going to have problems, you know," she said huskily. "He thinks he's going to be able to settle down, but it's going to chafe at him terribly."

  "You were talking to him a long time on the way here," Beau observed. "Don't tell me you were try­ing to talk him out of his change of lifestyle?"

  "Of course not," Kate said, frowning. "Mari-anna's a wonderful woman and she'll take terrific care of Jeffrey. He should have done this years ago."

  "Then what's the problem?"

  "Jeffrey's always been so independent." She bit her lip worriedly. "He's not going to like feeling he's beholden to Marianna for an income." Her chin squared determinedly. "I'm going to have to do something about that."

  "Why do I suddenly have a nasty chill down my spine?" Beau asked warily. "May I ask what you're intending to do?"

  "I just can't let Jeffrey walk away without know­ing he's going to be happy." How was she going to convince Beau? She'd thought that once he'd met Jeffrey he'd be more sympathetic toward her old friend. Most people liked Jeffrey even if they didn't approve of him. Beau, however, had displayed a very puzzling coldness and resentment toward him. "He's a very proud man."

  "And?"

  "A year or so ago he was talking about opening an interisland charter service. It never came to anything, but it's really just the kind of thing Jeffrey would be good at. He's a very good pilot and can land on a dime in all kinds of rough country."

  "I can see where he'd gain a certain amount of expertise in that area," Beau said with an ironic smile. "What is all this leading up to?"

  "Santa Isabella would be a perfect base of opera­tions for a charter service. Besides the wealthy plantation owners there's a plush hotel and resort that opened recently on the other side of the island." She rushed on. "There's only one diffi­culty. We had to leave the Cessna on Castellano. I'll have to go back and get it."

  "What!"

  Oh dear, his face was darkening more by the sec­ond. "He needs the plane to start a charter service. I'll have to ferry it from Castellano to Marianna's coffee plantation." She was speaking rapidly, care­ful not to look at him. "It shouldn't take long. You can drop me off and then sail back here to Santa Isabella. As soon as I've delivered the plane, I'll come directly to the pier and you can send the dinghy for me."

  "Oh, I can?" Beau asked with deceptive calm­ness. "You have it all planned out. I take it you can fly a plane and land it on a dime as well as Jeffrey can?"

  "I'm pretty good," she admitted. "Not as good as he is, of course, but I've been flying since I was fourteen. Julio's only been flying for the last two years and he's amazingly competent for the num­ber of hours he's logged," she explained earnestly. "Jeffrey never let us become involved in any of his jobs, but we sometimes had to ferry the Cessna from one place to another."

  "If he was often in the state he was in last night, I can see the reason why," Beau said grimly.

  "Jeffrey didn't use to drink like that," Kate pro­tested. "It's only lately that he's been—"

  "I couldn't care less about your friend's drinking habits." Beau was holding on to his patience with no little effort. "Nor Julio's dazzling expertise in the cockpit. I'm wholly concerned with this insan­ity of yours about going back to Castellano."

  "It's not insane, it's essential," Kate said stub­bornly. "Jeffrey's going to need that plane and it's really my fault he doesn't have it. I should have thought of a way of getting us off the island in the Cessna to begin with." She sighed. "You're right, I'm too impulsive. I should have planned it all out ahead of time."

  "And this isn't impulsive?" Beau exploded, his eyes blazing. "My Lord, you've just destroyed mil­lions of dollars' worth of Despard's drugs in addi­tion to bashing him on the head with a bourbon bottle. You say he's hand in glove with the govern­ment of Castellano, so if by any chance he doesn't get you, the authorities would be sure to. Yet you calmly tell me you're going to walk back there and

  retrieve a piece of misplaced property? You're damned right it's crazy!"

  "Don't worry, I'm not going to involve you this time," she said soothingly. "All you have to do is drop me off in Castellano and then pick me up in Santa Isabella." She met his eyes gravely. "I'm not trying to back out of our agreement. I just have to do this first."

  "I'm well aware you'd probably cut your throat rather than break your promise," he said through his teeth. "And you don't need to worry about 'pro­tecting' me. You may have this need to be a little mother to Brenden and the whole world, but just leave me out of it. I can take care of myself." He drew a deep breath. "And I can take care of you too. Since no one else seems capable of the job, I'm obviously elected. There's no way I'm going to take you back to Mariba. It would be sheer suicide to turn you loose on the streets."

  "It's not going to be all that dangerous," she argued desperately. "Look, I'm not asking you to sail right into Mariba harbor. The plane is hidden clear on the other side of the island. That side is almost uninhabited. It's all rain forest and a few fishing villages along the lagoon. We have the Cessna stashed and camouflaged in a glade in the forest." She made a face. "On an island like Castellano, it was best no one knew its location. It's right on the main drug routes and planes and yachts are prime hijack targets. We keep it gassed and ready to go, so I can be in the air in less than an hour after I hit the beach. It will all be perfectly safe."

  "If it's so perfectly safe, why don't we drop Julio off and let him ferry it?" Beau asked silkily. "You've just been telling me what a hotshot pilot he is."

  Darn, she'd been afraid he'd ask that. "Well, there's a slight possibility Despard may have ordered an island-wide search for the plane," she

  admitted reluctantly. "He's bound to have discov­ered who you are by now. There aren't that many Americans who dock at Mariba. He'll put two and two together and realize we left Castellano by ship. Which leaves a very valuable commodity in the form of the Cessna just sitting there unguarded." She paused. "If he can find it."

  "So you don't want to risk Julio but you're will­ing to put your own neck on the block." His voice was rough with impatience. "Do you have some kind of death wish or something?"

  "This isn't Julio's responsibility," she said stub­bornly. "It's mine. Jeffrey's my friend and he needs my help." Her eyes met his steadily. "He helped me when I needed him. I owe him."

  The anger faded from his face but the exaspera­tion remained. "A debt." He muttered a very explicit curse. "Why the hell did it have to be a debt?" He turned to the captain, who was leaning on the rail some distance down the deck talking casually to one of the seamen. "Daniel," he roared. "As soon as that blasted dinghy gets back, set sail for Castellano!"

  Seifert's navy blue eyes showed no surprise as he straightened and turned to look at them. "Again?" he asked laconically. "I may not even have to use a navigation map this time."

  "Very amusing," Beau said. He turned back to Kate. "I trust your Cessna has instruments. It will be almost sunset by the time we get back to Castellano and I want us to be off that island in one hour flat."

  "Us? But I told you—"

  "Us," he repeated with emphasis, his eyes flick­ering dangerousl
y. "And if I were you, I wouldn't argue. At the moment I'm feeling a bit hot under the collar, to put it mildly. I'm within an inch of saying to hell with it and telling Daniel to head for Trinidad."

  "The Cessna has instruments," she said absently, her curious gaze on Beau's irritated face. "Why didn't you tell Daniel to do that?"

  "Because you hit me where I'm most vulnerable," Beau said tersely. "I believe in the payment of debts, damn it." He turned away. "And now I believe I'll go volunteer my help in getting under way again. I could use a little hard physical labor to work the edge off this temper." He was striding away from her toward the captain. "There are times when I wish to hell I still drank like a fish!"

  "We should be sighting that lagoon you told us about in ten minutes or so." Daniel Seifert's deep voice was lazy as he paused beside her. "And so far no sign of the Castellano version of the Coast Guard. We just may make it after all."

  Kate glanced up at him from where she was sit­ting on the hatch. The red-haired giant looked even more like a pirate the way he was dressed—in khaki shorts and rubber-soled tennis shoes, his massive bronze chest bared to the waist. "You don't seem too concerned," she said curiously. "Are you so used to dodging the authorities?"

  His eyes twinkled as he looked down at her. "Well, let's just say I have a limited experience in the field. I wasn't always the captain of a rich man's pleasure barge."

  "No, I wouldn't think so," Kate said slowly. There was a charged vitality beneath that carelessly debo­nair exterior. "So why are you one now?"

  He shrugged and dropped down beside her, crossing his iron-thewed legs tailor fashion. There was a long jagged scar on his left thigh and it only added to the barbaric wildness of his appearance. He saw her gaze upon it before she could glance away and ran his finger down it lightly. "Not very pretty, is it?" he asked with a grimace. "Well, what could you expect? I'd never stitched up anything in my life before."

  "You sewed it yourself?" Kate's eyes widened in surprise.

  "Well, no one else was going to do it. I was locked up in a dirty sod shack in the middle of the desert. I figured if I didn't close it up, I'd probably get blood poisoning before Clancy could haul me out of there. I had a hard time persuading those bastards to give me a needle and thread." His lips tightened. "I was right. I stayed in that six-by-four hotbox of a room for over six months."

  She was staring at him in fascination. Daniel Seifert was obviously a very colorful man in more ways than the obvious. "That must have been ter­rible. Where was this desert? Did your friend, Clancy, finally break you out?"

  "Sedikhan," Seifert said tersely. "And Clancy Donahue isn't my friend, he's my boss. He's head of security of the sheikdom of Sedikhan." His teeth flashed in a slightly tigerish grin. "And yes, he got me out, cleaned up the area—and the revolution­aries who put me in the shack. Very tidily, if some­what lethally. Clancy is a very dangerous man, and very protective of his people."

  "You're speaking present tense," Kate observed. "I thought Beau was your employer now."

  He blinked in surprise. "I guess he is. Somehow I never thought of it like that. We just sort of flowed together some time ago and have been wandering around the Caribbean ever since." He drew up his knees and linked his arms loosely around them. "I always knew I'd go back to Sedikhan when I was ready. It was just a matter of time."

  "I think you're better off doing what you're doing now," Kate said skeptically. "Your Mr. Donahue doesn't sound like he provides very safe working conditions."

  Seifert chuckled. "You're right there, but then neither does Beau. I like a bit of excitement now and then. Maybe that's why I haven't been too eager to get back to Sedikhan even though I'm well now. Beau can provide almost as many fireworks as Clancy upon occasion."

  "You were ill?" She glanced down at the scar. "Oh, of course, your leg."

  He shook his head. "The leg healed pretty well. It was almost as good as new by the time Clancy res­cued me." His loosely linked hands locked with unconscious tension. "It was my nerves that were shot. Six months in that hellhole only a little bigger than a coffin nearly drove me up the wall. Clancy could see I was in no kind of shape to keep on with our particular line of work, so he filled my bank account with enough cash to choke a horse and told me to go for a rest cure. Preferably somewhere without four surrounding walls." His eyes were narrowed on the horizon. "I'd captained one of Ben Raschid's yachts a few years before and I knew where I'd find my place with no walls." He drew a deep breath of warm salt air. "And, Lord, I needed that place."

  "But you're well now," she said gently. She sup­posed his frankness regarding his violent past should have repelled her but somehow it didn't. There was an oddly comforting strength and sim­plicity about this huge red-haired man. "And you don't have to go back to Sedikhan unless you want to."

  "But I want to." He suddenly relaxed and the grin he gave her was lazily mocking. "Why not? Besides the amusement value, Donahue's lieutenants become very wealthy men in an amazingly short time. Living with Beau I've developed a taste for the kind of power money brings."

  "I don't see how you could, living at sea on a ship like this," Kate said. "Surely life is very simple and uncomplicated."

  "Don't kid yourself." The captain's lips twisted. "On the high seas we may be back to basic values, but once we hit port all the material values swing into focus. The Lantry conglomerate is one of the most powerful in the world. All Beau has to do is to step ashore and the bowing and scraping starts. Maybe that's why he keeps such a low profile."

  "A low profile?" Kate echoed blankly. "I didn't notice he was shy or retiring." She had a mental image of him tumbling through that warehouse window, a blazing torch in either hand. "Quite the contrary."

  Seifert grinned. "Maybe I should say he keeps a low profile where society and government types are concerned. You're right, he's far from shy. You couldn't expect him to be. He was one of the most publicized orphans in the world, with all kinds of custody suits flying around him. He knew from the time he was out of diapers just how valuable he was to the world." His lips curved cynically. "Or how valuable his money was to it."

  "I'd think that would make anyone a little spoiled."

  "Beau's not spoiled," Seifert said, his smile fad­ing. "You don't know him at all if you think that. I'm not saying he can't be self-indulgent on occa­sion, but all of us are guilty of that. He may do what he damn well pleases, but if there's a price, he's always willing to pay it." His expression was seri­ous. "And I'm not just talking about cash. Growing up with that kind of money doesn't guarantee to make things easy. Did you know that Beau was an alcoholic?"

  "No!" Her voice was as shocked as her face.

  "He licked it several years ago but you don't go through something like that and stay an immature kid. He's tough as hell under that playboy facade."

  "No wonder you get along so well." Kate's blue eyes were twinkling. "Like to like."

  "Well, we did discover we had a certain affinity," he admitted with a slight smile. "We were both betwixt and between, so to speak. And we were both searching for something." His gaze was nar­rowed on the horizon again. "I knew what I was searching for: rest, peace, maybe even sanity, but I don't think Beau even knew he was searching."

  "The Searcher," Kate mused. "This ship is named the Searcher."

  Seifert nodded. "I renamed it. Beau had just bought it when we got together in Miami. He left it up to me to give it a new name. He didn't care what I called it as long as it wasn't the name of one of his past mistresses." His eyes glinted mischievously. "He didn't want any of them to think he had any lingering passion for them. I believe he had an expensive enough time getting rid of the ladies in the first place."

  "I imagine he did." Kate remembered with a sharp pang Beau's remark about allowing her to change her mind later about the compensation she wanted from him. How many experiences with ava­ricious women had developed that bitter cynicism in him?

  Seifert shrugged. "Well, anyway, he didn't care one way o
r the other, so it became the Searcher." His expression grew thoughtful. "I've often won­dered if maybe that was what Beau was subcon­sciously looking for. Something that really mattered to him, something he could give a damn about."

  Kate shook her head with a smile. "I can't say that I've noticed any lack of intensity in him." She wrinkled her nose. "Nor any lack of emotion. At the moment I have the impression he'd like to channel that intensity in my direction with some violence."

  "I noticed he was a tad irritated," Seifert drawled. "I was a little surprised. Ordinarily he'd be looking forward to playing hide and seek with your local racketeers. It would be just the kind of thing he'd choose to while away a balmy tropic evening."

  "Well," Kate said gloomily, "he didn't seem to find the idea one bit amusing."

  "No, he didn't." The captain's gaze was suddenly fixed on her in speculation. "He was as furious as a speared shark and I think maybe a little worried. The latter is even more unusual. Beau regards wor­rying about the future as a sheer waste of time. Interesting."

  "I'm glad you think so." Kate sighed. "I'd much rather he'd let me go in alone if he's so displeased with the entire idea."

  "I just bet you would." Beau's tone was sour as he appeared suddenly beside them. He was also shirtless and his supple muscles gleamed golden in the lengthening rays of the setting sun. "You'd get a kick out of acting the big bold adventuress. How long do you think your luck is going to last pulling stunts like the one in Alvarez's saloon last night? If Despard ever gets his hands on you, he'll probably murder you." His lips tightened grimly. "After allotting a suitable amount of recreational time for gang rape."

  "I'm not doing it to get some kind of cheap thrill," she said hotly. "You know I had—"

  "All I know is that you're going back to that island and risking getting killed for a damn air­plane," he interrupted harshly, his hazel eyes glinting gold. "I'll buy you a blasted Cessna if that's what you want. Hell, I'll buy you a Lear jet. Call it a fringe benefit."