“Tired, but happy.”
There was a rap on the door, and Stone pulled up the sheet. “Come in.”
Genevieve opened the door. “You two feel like a swim?”
“Not since the shark,” Holly said.
“Oh, come on; the shark’s gone. And you don’t even have to get dressed.”
“That’s a thought,” Stone said. They grabbed towels and followed Genevieve, who was wearing only her towel, too. Dino was already in the water, waving them in.
Stone grabbed Holly’s hand, dropped his towel and ran with her into the light surf.
“What a wonderful temperature!” Holly yelled. “It’s just perfect!”
They swam out to the sandbar and stood up to rest for a minute.
“Look,” Stone said, pointing at a sailboat leaving English Harbour, “it’s Harold Pitts.”
“Pretty boat,” Holly said. “You think he’s leaving St. Marks?”
“I don’t know,” Stone said. “I had the impression Harold had begun to think about staying on here with Irene.” They could see a lone figure at the helm; Stone waved, and he waved back. Then he bore away, tacked and began to recede into the distance.
“I wonder where he’s going,” Stone said.
Lance grew weary of waiting for Holly to return his call. He tossed his satphone into his briefcase, got into his jacket and walked out of his office, running into Carolyn, Hugh English’s secretary, in the hallway.
“Hi,” she said. “I’ve booked your jet; it’s the Hawker, and it will be at the St. Marks airport at noon tomorrow.”
“Great, Carolyn,” he said. “I’m on my way home; would you please call the English Harbour Inn in St. Marks, ask for Ginny Heller or Stone Barrington and tell them about the jet? And ask them to let the Peppers know.”
“Of course, Lance,” she said. “Have a good weekend.”
“Oh, I’ll be in tomorrow,” Lance said. “I just have to do some stuff at home this afternoon.” He continued on his way.
Carolyn called the English Harbour Inn, but there was no answer in the room, so she left a message on the voicemail, then she went home, too.
Stone and Holly stood on the sandbar and watched the gray fin cut through the water between them and the beach. “The son of a bitch is back,” he said. Dino and Genevieve were headed for the beach at top speed.
“I hate that thing,” Holly said.
“It’s nothing personal,” Stone replied, not taking his eyes off the fin. “He’s just doing what sharks do.”
“Well, I wish he’d do it somewhere else.”
“You want to make for the beach?”
“Not while that beast is between us and home.”
“Okay, we’ll just wait here for him to come out and take a look at us.”
“We’re not splashing; we’re not bleeding; maybe he’ll just go away.”
“I hope so.” Stone involuntarily reached down and held onto his genitals.
“Are you holding what I think you’re holding?” Holly asked.
“Uh, yes.”