Chapter 11
“This one hell of a nice boat you have here,” I said to Keith.
He slowly nodded, showing nothing but a toothy grin that was as artificial as a stripper’s smile. He put a paw on Valerie’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. I could see that his hands were tough and strong as old leather.
He asked, “What kind of line are you in?” It was a friendly conversation that anyone could have but there was an undercurrent of suspicion that caught me off-guard.
I thought of a quick lie. “Line? Oh, you mean what do I do for a living? I work in electronic sales - mostly high-end audio and theater installations. Of course once the real estate market dropped out, sales have really slowed. No one wants to spend money on that kind of junk anymore.”
His hand dropped down and gave the poor girl a squeeze on her arm. Valerie gave him a weak smile and then looked at me, her eyes flashing was anger. She obviously expected me to intervene. Instead I did nothing, even as he began stroking the side of her thigh in a languid fashion. It was plain that he had no real interest in her but instead was trying to get a rise out of me. I wasn’t taking the bait.
Keith finally gave up and dropped his hand back to his side. He made a fist that clenched and unclenched. “So things are a little tight?”
“Yes, but I make enough to pay the bills.”
“That’s good to know. Have a good time.” And then he turned on his heel and stalked off to the pilot’s chair. There he sat, beer bottle held loosely in his hand and only rarely coming to rest on those thick lips.
Valerie’s face was flushed red with anger. “Why didn’t you do anything to stop him groping me?”
“I’m not your bodyguard,” I replied. “He seemed quite familiar with you and I don’t know where the two of you stand. You can’t expect me to start swinging at everyone you don’t like. Before you know it, I would be in jail or have a busted up face.”
“Get me a drink,” she demanded, unable to look me in the eyes.
“Okay,” I said acting contrite. Valerie was my ticket to getting close to Keith so this was no time for a spat. I needed to stay onboard to put my plan in action.
I walked away, forcing my shoulders to slump and my head to be bowed forward. I had to look suitably chastened when I came back. I spent the next few minutes wandering over the small space of the boat. I went down below into the little kitchenette, which was well-stocked with booze, and then poked my head into the two bedrooms and the bathroom. I really wasn’t expecting the gold to fall in my lap, but I did want to get a feel for the ship and the location of anything out of the ordinary. In the kitchen I pushed past two college kids, grabbed a pair of beers from the refrigerator, and then ducked into a short staircase down to the lowest part of the ship. I opened a steel door to look inside this deck. There was nothing here but a pair of silent diesel engines, the electric generator – which was humming along nicely – and some tools sitting on a heavy-duty workbench. The lights were bare bulbs. Coils of ropes and boat bumpers were hanging on hooks on the wall. My minute search once again revealed nothing of note.
I hurried back to the top deck. I located Valerie and gave her one of the beers. She looked a little less angry with me but still touchy enough that I had to be careful. She put her arm in the crook of mine. We talked and walked, greeting the other partiers but mostly sticking close to her friends. Valerie was putting down the alcohol hard, drinking whatever she could lay her hands on. I didn’t try to stop her – I had my own reasons why – and spent my time fetching whatever she asked for. As for myself, I switched to vodka and tonic, minus the vodka.
The crowd here was getting drunker and drunker; all leering smiles and pressed flesh. Above this all, wrapped in his own thoughts, was Keith Miller. He sat glued to that captain’s chair with that silly grin pasted on that tanned face. It was unnerving the way he watched the assembled partiers. He really did think that he was a wolf among sheep, able to do and take whomever he wanted. And it wasn’t long before I realized that his attention wasn’t on Valerie, but Ella. And the reason why was obvious – she was the most sensitive of the lot; the one who could be driven to the edge of despair and possibly to her doom. Keith didn’t want a hardy playmate who could take his abuse. Valerie and Sarah would be all tears, but they would bounce back to live another day. Instead he wanted someone he could hurt permanently – perhaps by the ultimate thrill: death. Ella, with all her clumsiness, was the one and there was nothing that anyone, including her boyfriend, could do about it. But Keith hadn’t counted on me. I wouldn’t give him the chance.
The hours rolled by and the guests began to leave one by one. Valerie was drunk as hell and could only stand by leaning against me. From time to time she would whisper in my ear, promising some unworldly pleasures if I dragged her back to my cabin. Instead I would laugh and promise that we would be leaving soon. Ella stayed close to her boyfriend, the two of them looking quite the worse for wear; all haggard and sleepy. Sarah and Thomas had disappeared somewhere below deck, ostensibly do lie down and recover from the alcohol intake.
Once the other guests were gone, Keith rose from his chair and approached us. He had been drinking very little and appeared as sober as a pastor on Sunday morning. Those eyes were unblinking and unfathomable. “How are you holding up?” he asked me.
“Nothing another drink can’t fix,” I replied, slurring my words on purpose.
“It seems that our playmates needed to have a little lie down. What do you think about going on a little cruise so we can check out the canyon in the moonlight? It’s quite the sight.”
I looked at Valerie. She was trying to make sense of the conversation but was clearly failing. She mumbled something indistinct and then her head slumped against my chest.
I replied, “I fear any kind of motion will leave you with a very messy boat. This whole lot will be seasick once we’re underway. To tell you the truth, I may have to join them in the bathroom if the motion gets too violent.”
“You’ll be fine,” Keith said. “Take her below while I get the lines.”
“Okay,” I carefully responded. I had an uneasy sensation that he wanted to get away from the shore so he could lower the boom on me. But that didn’t make any sense, unless he was so enraged about Valerie that he wanted to have his revenge. But I had an ace in the hole, a hidden gun and no fear of using it. Once we were out on the lake, the situation would be to my advantage.
Valerie wobbled drunkenly as I took her down to the deck below. There she slumped on the low sofa that was integrated into the space-saving kitchen table. From the nearest bedroom I could hear Sarah and Thomas involved in some seriously loud intercourse. It was an odd sound that only heightened the weirdness of the situation. The diesels suddenly caught and the boat moved queasily under my feet. I was no sailor and I gulped, steeling my stomach against the lurches and unsteadiness that were about to come.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” I told Valerie. “Why don’t you have a rest?”
“Come back soon, lover. I need you.”
I leaned over and kissed her chastely on the cheek. She was a good kid in a bad place. Before she could make things more interesting, I went back up.
By the time I reached the top deck, the boat was moving forward at a sluggish pace, slipping past the parked ships safe in their slips. The stars grew brighter as we drew away from the artificial light of the marina. Along the shore the darkened cabins stood in mute silence to the little drama that was about to unfold. Keith was at the helm, one hand on the wheel and the other on the throttle. Ella and Brady were on a nearby padded bench, the both of them looking a little green. I went and joined them but remained standing since the motion of the ship was more bearable in that position.
“Beautiful night,” Keith said. His voice was low and cold. He talked as he steered keeping his eye on the water in front.
With the moon reflecting on the water
and the high moon-like cliffs and hills throwing long dark shadows it would have been a wonderful picture. I was, however, too keyed up to care for the scenery. There was danger in the air. I could smell it.
“Yes it is,” I finally answered.
“So, Devon, were you ever in the army?”
“No, I’m not what you call the military type. You could call me a pacifist.”
He let out a chuckle. “Is that so? I was in the army – a Green Beret and all.”
“That’s the special forces, right? That must have been a tough life.”
“Yes, I saw plenty of fighting. I was over in Afghanistan and Iraq. Did you ever have to fight to save your life or the life of your comrades?”
He glanced at me. I saw that his eyes were narrowed with concentration; almost as if he was trying to look through my skin and into my heart. It was an unsettling feeling but I had met – and even beaten – men who were tougher than him. At least that’s what I told myself to steady the old nerves.