Eve's Men (30 page)

They were on the catwalk at the time, reasonably private. Charley took her in his arms and kissed her. “What did you expect?” he said. “If I lost you, I’d wrap the anchor chain around my neck and go for a swim.”

She looked at him, still unhappy. “I just hate coming between the two of you.”

“You haven’t, Eve. There’s always been plenty of stuff between him and me—chasms for one. So don’t blame yourself. I don’t figure I’ve lost him, I’ve gained you, as in-laws say. Or at least I hope I have.”

“What does that mean, you hope you have?”

“Just that.”

“Jesus, Charley, I think you’d be sure of me by now.”

“God knows I want to be. But I can’t help it. I keep thinking of my one week with you, balanced against his three years.”

She said nothing for a short time, just leaned there in his arms, her pelvis tight against him, her beautiful face solemn, the lovely green eyes gravely regarding him. “I keep thinking my real life began this week,” she said.

Grateful for the words, Charley embraced her tightly and kissed her again, slowly, deeply. “I do love you,” he said.

Smiling now, she gently pulled away, in the process giving his erection a playful squeeze. “I love you too. But you’d better lose that before you join the others.”

“I’ve got a suggestion,” he said.

She laughed. “Big surprise. But if I take you up on it, it’ll have to be up front, on the bow, where the whole world can watch. I’m going sunbathing.”

Charley watched her as she moved toward the bow, swinging her hips provocatively. “Sometime today,” he croaked hopefully.

In answer, she just raised her hand and waved a casual bye-bye, his absolute ruler.

Charley returned to the bridge just as Beaver was giving the wheel over to Chester, who lasted about thirty seconds before he jumped up, shaking his hands as if they had caught fire.

“I jest cain’t do it!” he bawled, giving the wheel back to Beaver. “I jest cain’t! I ain’t cut out for water and that’s all there is to it.”

Brian naturally had a bit of fun with this, teasing his new little buddy. “Maybe if we got you a saddle to sit on, or if we smeared some cowshit on the wheel—maybe that would help.”

“It jest might. You never cain tell.”

Once out of the Seattle harbor, Beaver opened up the throttles and pointed the
Seagal
north. He said that they were going to take the Saratoga Passage, a protected waterway between long Whidbey Island on one side and Camano on the other. The engines, two Cat diesels, produced almost as much noise as they did power, making conversation almost impossible outside the cabins. So Charley had to wonder in silence what the big hurry was, considering that they were supposed to be out for a mere spin into the Sound.

Still, he had to admit that despite his misgivings, he was beginning to enjoy himself. Under the pleasant onslaught of the sun and sea, his worries and anxieties seemed to slip away. Even the air conspired against him: not winelike, according to Beaver, but margaritalike, intoxicating and salty at the same time. Above all, there was much to see, especially later, after they had made their way through the white water of Deception Pass and continued north into the San Juan Islands: solitary beaches and rock walls rising sheer out of the water, with pine and fir and cedar running along the top, and old settlements at the mouths of harbors and half-hidden coves so beautiful they looked as if no man had ever dared enter them. On the more distant islands one could see upland meadows and farmland and small mountains, and beyond that, far to the east, the long white ridge of the Cascades, with Mount Baker towering over the rest, and described by Beaver as being “out today,” as if it were on a par with the sun and moon.

With each headland they passed, there were bald eagles watching from the dead branches of the highest trees. Every now and then one of the birds would swoop down and have a look at the
Seagal
and then indifferently drift off into the sky. There were also Canadian geese and great blue herons and countless gulls as well as tiny flotillas of ducks: mothers leading their young through the shallows in flawless formation.

And finally there was a family of sea lions that spilled off some rocks at the boat’s approach and within seconds came swimming alongside, rolling and frolicking in the water. When Terry first saw them and called out from the bow, everyone hurried to the railing to look, everyone but Chester, whose interest was of a different order. But Charley and the others were watching the sea lions and had no idea what the little man was doing until they heard the deafening report of his magnum pistol and saw the lead mammal shudder in the water and plunge, trailing a cloudy streamer of blood. By the time Charley turned in shock to look at Chester, Brian was already on him, pulling him from the railing and slamming him against the cabin wall so hard his gun clattered to the deck and slid off into the water.

“
What the fuck you doing?
” Brian bawled at him. “
You crazy?
”

Chester’s eyes had bugged and he was shaking. “It was jest a seal!” he explained.

“You want to bring the law down on us? You like the idea of prison, do you?”

Chester blubbered that he was sorry, that he hadn’t meant any harm, that it was just a way of life back home. “A man’s s’posed to shoot critters,” he said. “It’s jest our way.”

Finally Brian let him go, and the little man sagged against the wall. Looking down from the bridge. Beaver pedantically informed him that the animal was a sea lion, not a seal, and that in any case they were both protected by federal law, that it was a felony to kill one. But Chester was not listening. By then he had gone back to the railing and was staring down into the water as if he expected his magnum to come floating to the surface.

“That piece cost me a bundle,” he complained. Then he looked up and saw Charley, Eve, and Terry watching him. “What y’all starin’ at? What am I, some kinda movie star or somethin’?”

When none of them said anything, he turned away in disgust and went into the cabin. Giving the others a shrug of resignation, Brian followed him inside. And Charley was puzzled by what he observed then through the cabin window: Brian crowding Chester into a corner and talking earnestly to him, as if the cowboy were a delinquent schoolboy, and Chester accepting it as his due, nodding in eager contrition, his squinty eyes filling with tears. Finally, he capped off this odd little performance by taking hold of Brian’s arm, almost embracing it. as if Brian were some sort of exalted leader, a king he had failed.

Charley looked at Eve to see if she had witnessed the scene, but she was still staring down into the water for some sign of the wounded animal.

“Well, so much for sea lions,” she said. “I guess they’re no different than movie directors.”

There were four or five other boats in the broad channel between the islands, and Charley wondered for a time whether their crews might have heard the shot and would be coming closer to investigate or lend assistance. But none changed course. Eve meanwhile went back to her blanket on the bow, still wearing her windbreaker and shorts despite the brightness of the sun. Charley sat down next to her.

“Tell me,” he said. “Do you still believe we’re out on a little afternoon spin?”

“Why? You think we’re heading somewhere?”

“At about thirty miles an hour, yeah.”

“Did you ask Brian?”

“Earlier, yes. And I’m about to again. But you know what he’ll give me—the same old bullshit as before.”

In midafternoon, Beaver put in at a small resort at a place he called Obstruction Pass. While he was having the boat fueled, Charley, Eve, and Brian went ashore to stretch their legs. Indifferently, not expecting any real answers, Charley quizzed his brother.

“Well, here we are, almost to Canada, I’d say, and you still maintain we’re out for a spin?”

Brian threw up his hands. “Hey, man, look around you. Smell the roses. How can you beat this? On a yacht in the San Juans on a day like this? This is living, man.”

“Well, I’m just a mercenary old stick-in-the-mud. I seem to remember some promises about my forty thousand.”

“And you’ll still get it. But on the way back, just like I said.”

Charley turned to Eve. “What’d I tell you? Ask and it shall not be given unto you.”

Brian laughed. “My God, what’s that? Sounds like we’re back in Sunday school. And of course Charley was always the star there too. Show her, man. Quote some more holy stuff for us.”

“Jesus wept.”

“Oh come on, you can do better than that. How about this? Thou shalt not steal thy brother’s ass, or his manservant—or his girl.”

“What’s that from, the Book of Brian?”

“That’s enough,” Eve said, turning and heading back for the boat.

When they got underway again, Brian spelled Beaver at the cabin helm for a time, while Terry served a lunch of cold cuts, bread, and potato salad. There was also a plentiful supply of soft drinks and liquor as well as beer, which Brian, Beaver, and especially Chester went at with steady gusto. After everyone had eaten, Terry dutifully put the food away and without a word went down the spiral stairs, either to the head there or to the main stateroom. Because the girl looked so troubled and unhappy, Eve followed her down, into a vestibule with doors fore and aft: the front one leading to the engine room, the rear one to the stateroom. Eve knocked on the stateroom door, and Terry asked who it was. Eve gently opened the door. “Just me,” she said. “Are you okay?”

Terry was lying facedown across the bed, as if she’d thrown herself there. “Yeah, I guess so,” she said. “Just tired is all. I haven’t been sleeping so hot.”

“That’s understandable. So I’ll just leave you alone, then.”

“No, come on in,” Terry said. “I won’t sleep. And I guess I wouldn’t mind a little company.”

Eve sat down on the corner of the queen-size bed. Like the salon, the room was carpeted and luxurious, with its own private bathroom.

“One thing I’ve been worried about,” Terry said. “I hope you didn’t break up with Brian because of me. I’m nothing to him, really, just a kind of helper or gofer, you know? All the way driving up here, he never even touched me. I don’t think he thinks of me as a woman or even a girl.”

Eve smiled at her. “Or maybe he was just being a gentleman. Remember, you’re still a teenager, Terry.”

“You really think that was why?”

“Why else?”

Terry rolled over and sat up, running her palms over her eyes, which had moistened when she told Eve about Brian’s indifference. “I guess I’ve really screwed up, haven’t I?” she said. “I mean, being wanted by the police now, and Stephanie probably climbing the walls.”

“Well, I’m afraid the FBI wants me too—helping Brian escape or whatever. Charley says that the sooner we all turn ourselves in, the better it will go for us.”

Terry gave her a puzzled look. “Do you really prefer him to Brian? I mean, Brian’s just so exciting, you know? I never get tired of watching him. He’s like a movie star.”

Eve shrugged. “Well, maybe I just got tired of excitement, or at least Brian’s kind. If you knew Charley, I think you’d understand.”

Getting off the bed, Terry went over to the back window and stood there looking out at the boat’s boiling wake. “There’s something else too,” she said. “Something that really scares me.”

“What’s that?”

The girl made a face of self-deprecation. “Oh, I imagine it’s nothing. I’m probably way off base. But I keep hearing things that Brian and the others say, and I get the feeling he’s planning something, another strike against the studio, something like that.”

“How? Where?”

“I don’t know, but I’d say somewhere up here, on one of the islands. But I’m not sure—it’s just a feeling I have.”

“Can you tell me what you’re heard?”

“No, I’ve already said more than I should have, since I don’t really
know
anything.” Looking peevish now—at herself or her predicament—she turned and headed for the door. Before leaving, though, she looked back at Eve. “Don’t say anything, okay? I really don’t know a damn thing. I’m probably just tripping on too little sleep, that’s all.”

Eve looked dubious. “You really think that?”

“Sure. Why not?”

Eve couldn’t think of a polite way of answering that, so she moved on. “Listen, before you go, there’s something else I’ve been wanting to ask you.”

“Go ahead.”

“What you did at Greenwalt’s place—how did Brian talk you into doing it?”

The girl shrugged. “He didn’t, really. He just asked me to follow him in the Porsche and showed me where to park it. He wanted me to wait there, and then after he came back, he was going to leave the wagon there and we’d take the Porsche home. But I said I wanted to be his lookout. And one thing led to another.”

Eve smiled. “It certainly did.”

“And he never told me about leaving town until we were on our way.”

“He made you go?”

“Oh, God no! I loved it.”

“So here you are,” Eve said.

“Yeah. So here I am.”