 |
 |
|
|
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] Who? she demanded. Toshio and Russ looked at each other. Don t give me that macho male code of silence. You know how serious this is. Toshio sighed. Alec Evans. Sloat s favorite student. Osten s Bay 91 She should have guessed. Alec Evans was the divemas- ter who had been so rude to her this morning in Miss Liszt s office. Well, Sloat was going to get an earful about the fun- loving Mr. Evans. Can I take it that we re not diving tomorrow? Russ asked. I think I d like to get drunk. Sort of a celebration of still being alive. And then I think I d like to sleep the clock around. Gail laughed a little bitterly. No, we re not diving tomor- row, so you can get as drunk as you want. In fact, we re not diving again at all until I get a few things straight. That suits me, Russ said. Things do seem to be get- ting a little out of hand. I ll see you two later, she said, standing. I m going to see Sloat. Or try to see him. And then I think I might go into town and get drunk myself. Any suggestions? Russ said, You might try the Club Caribe. It s on that street just south of the main drag, by the water. It has a nice patio overlooking the ocean. And there s always a loud band playing. So you can brood outdoors in the dark or dance the night away to the strains of wild reggae. In spite of her anger and depression, she smiled. The Club Caribe will suit me just fine. Ah, but which you? Toshio asked. The brooding me, she told him. I have a lot of brood- ing to do. Sloat? Toshio guessed. Among other things, Sloat, she said. Chapter 8 She found a table on the outdoor patio, ordered an Amstel beer, and gazed morosely out at the quickly darkening ocean. Had there been a green flash tonight when the sun went down? She smiled ruefully. If there had been, she was glad she had missed it. It would only have reminded her of Marike. Late this afternoon, after unsuccessful attempts to locate Sloat, Alec Evans, or Brian and Grant, she had given up. Returning to her room, she had sat on her bed in the grow- ing gloom, trying her best not to let depression overtake her, and trying hard not to think of Marike. Everything was going wrong. Then, with a stab of guilt, she remembered she hadn t gotten back to the computer room to call up her program and have a look at it. If Charlie Henderson had gotten into her files, she needed to know what had happened. If he had run the program, it would now be gibberish. Well, checking it out would have to wait for another day. She was too tired, Osten s Bay 93 too anxious, too depressed, and too angry to give the task the concentration it deserved. Maybe Russ had had the best idea after all get drunk and go to bed. She had decided to follow his example. She took another swallow of her beer and tried to empty her mind. Inside the club, the enthusiastic reggae band fin- ished a set. Here on the patio in the darkness, things were relatively quiet. Most of the patrons seemed to prefer being inside, dancing and drinking. Candles in amber glass holders on the tables provided the only light, and she felt hidden, safe, and anonymous. She closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, willing herself to relax. A breeze had sprung up, and its gentle fingers rustled the fronds of the palm trees lining the patio, lifting her hair and making the candle gutter. Only three other tables were occupied. From one of them came a woman s throaty, intimate laughter a dusky, velvet sound that filled Gail with sudden longing. Closing her eyes, she realized how intensely she longed for someone to sit beside her in the summer darkness, someone to whisper to, someone to laugh with. The emotion was so powerful that she won- dered how she could bear it. But it passed, and in its wake she felt drained, hopeless, and afraid. Panic gripped her then, and she felt the urge to flee, to run away. But she had nothing and no one to run to. There was no one waiting for her anywhere. No one thought of her with love, or longing, or regret. No one counted the days until her return. I exist nowhere but here in this place, now, in this moment, she told herself, and the thought terrified her. How did I get to be so alone, she wondered. How do these things happen? Hello, Gail, a quiet voice said. May I join you for a moment? She turned. The light from the club s open doorway made a bright halo of Marike s hair. She wore white slacks and a white shirt with a pleated front, open to the third button, the 94 Lauren Wright Douglas sleeves rolled casually above her elbows, exposing her tanned arms. The effect was stunning. In the dim light she seemed to glow from within: golden skin, emerald eyes, silver hair, all radiating light. Sit down, Gail said, her throat tight. Marike sat, hands clasped in front of her, staring at the candle. Gail saw that she was in distress, but the memory of their last conversation kept her from speaking. I m being sued by those jackasses we pulled out of the Atlantic the other day, Marike said. But I thought . . . Gail said, then stopped. To say more would reveal she had eavesdropped on Marike and Rolf. Marike was too angry to notice. That s typical male appreciation for you! We save their lives and they take me to court. Negligence, they claim. That s ridiculous, Gail said heatedly. No one held a gun to their heads to make them go diving. And I heard the radio conversation you had with Peter it s obvious they meant to go off by themselves. I don t see how they could ever hope to win a lawsuit against you. Well, I m sure they don t want to go to court any more than I do, Marike said. They re trying to intimidate me into a quick out-of-court settlement. She shrugged. We re play- ing chicken. How much do they want? Gail asked. Marike waved a hand impatiently. Too much. Ten, twelve thousand dollars. Something like that. She ran a hand through her hair and exhaled audibly. Listen, she said, I have no right to ask this of you after my self-righteous little speech, but if you would do something for me, it would be a big help. She looked directly at Gail, and in that instant Gail knew she would do whatever was asked of her. What a fool she d been, she chided herself. What do you want me to do? Did her voice sound unsteady? Go to see Rolf Klee. Give him a statement. Tell him Osten s Bay 95 what you overheard, then what happened during the dive. That jerk tried to kill you, you know. Make sure Rolf knows that. She smiled a little crookedly. I need all the help I can get on this. If word gets around that Osten s Bay isn t a safe SCUBA lodge, my business will be finished. Osten s Bay is as much my dream as it was my father s, Gail. And I won t go down without a fight. I ll do whatever I can, she said. I d like to help. Marike heaved a sigh. Thank you, she said quietly. Then after a moment, she raised her eyes to Gail s. Listen, I was completely out of line the other morning. What I said was, well, perfectly rotten. I guess I overreact whenever the subject of the Institute comes up. In the dim light, her eyes smol- dered. I accused you before I had any right. Maybe you re not one of them. Maybe you re different. Maybe you re not in league with Sloat. She put a hand on the table, and Gail had to restrain herself from reaching over to take it. I m certainly not in league with Sloat, Gail told her. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |