Cargo for the Styx (11 page)

Irma slid off the bed. I watched her lazily. She picked up the phone and walked back, dragging the extension cord. I watched her but not so lazily.

She set the phone on my chest. “Make your report right now.”

I said, “Then go away. Go hide in the closet.” I picked up the phone and dialed. I asked the operator for Marine Mutual. Irma crouched down beside the bed, out of sight. I could hear her giggle.

Winters’ voice tried to take my eardrum out. “Zane? Is that you, Zane?”

I said, “It’s Zane. I called to tell you my report will be along. Full details. Meanwhile, there’s an insurance claim coming in. Pay it and don’t squawk.”

“Claim?” He did squawk. “I thought you saved that boat. I thought the cargo has been found.”

I said, “Found and on its way by tomorrow. Clift swears he can still make it in time.”

“Then who’s claiming what?”

I said, “I’m claiming a new cabin and a new refrigerator. I may even claim a new boat.”

“Why?”

I said, “Because the
Saltspray
isn’t designed for two people to live on, that’s why. There’s a forty-two footer down here that’ll be just right.”

“Don’t gouge me, Zane.”

“Who’s gouging?” I demanded. “All I’m doing is wondering what Marine Mutual will say when I tell them you were more interested in ‘baby’ than in having me check out the
Temoc
some more. How is ‘baby,’ by the way?”

He hung up. I pushed the phone off my chest. Irma took it away and came and lay beside me. I said, “You’ll like living on a boat. And my moorage is close to your office.”

She said, “Mmm.”

Silence. I said, “What are you thinking?”

She giggled. “About yesterday, about what you said when we were on the catamaran. About the ‘fourth time.’ “

I said, “That was yesterday. I had problems. Now I haven’t any.”

She said, “Mmm-mmm.”

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This is a work of fiction.

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eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-4196-4

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