Page 133 of Hard Luck (Blackstone House)

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what?”

“Nice? You’re not a fan of violence.”

“I couldn’t do what you do. And I can’t pretend I’m comfortable with you doing it either, but I’ve seen firsthand why it’s necessary. Sure, if you’d told me that first night that you killed people with terrifying efficiency, I’d have shit myself, but then I got to know the girl behind the gun. You’re not a psycho.”

My shrink would disagree with him there. But better not to mention that part.

“I need to get to theCrosswind.”

“Not this afternoon, you don’t. There’s a storm rolling in. I felt it when I was out on the water.”

A storm? Thunder? Rain?

“A storm is perfect.”

“Do you want to get struck by lightning?”

“Statistically, the chances of that happening are low. The hardest part of this job is going to be the approach. Witt won’t be expecting to hear other boats in the vicinity, but if I keep the speed low, the storm will mask the sound of the engine.”

“What will you do with the boat?”

“Beach it on Windjammer Bank.”

“In a storm, it might float free.”

“That’s okay; I won’t need it anymore. I just need to get onto the island.”

“And then you’ll use the storm as cover to board the boat?”

I shook my head. “No, I’ll hunker down and wait for the weather to clear. When Witt makes his next dive, I’ll board. The two college boys are the least risky to handle, and they don’t have a gun. I checked their luggage when they boarded.”

I was confident they wouldn’t have found mine. There would simply be no reason for them to feel around under the bathroom sink, and Cole didn’t carry a weapon. Did he? Rather than being upset about the invasion of privacy, Cole grimaced.

“They might have a gun.”

“Elaborate.”

“There was one at the helm.”

“I thought you hated guns?”

“It’s Frankie’s. A few years ago, a bunch of assholes in a speedboat were boarding nice-looking yachts and robbing the passengers, so she decided I needed protection. I told her I didn’t, but she insisted, and it was easier to just tuck the gun away and forget about it.”

“Isn’t there a rule in San Gallicano stating that guns have to be stored safely?”

They had controls and licencing. Firearms had to be bought from licenced retailers, and private sales were verboten. I’d read up on the rules on the plane, just to see how long I’d spend in prison if I got caught. Two to five years, apparently.

“Frankie doesn’t always play by the rules.”

“I kind of love her for that.”

“I was worried you’d hate her. Because of our past, you know?”

“Did you sleep with her when we were together?”

“Of course not.”

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