Dar eased off the bed and knelt in front of the dresser, opening the lower drawer and rummaging in it. She found the small case she’d tucked inside when they’d boarded in Miami and picked it up, bringing it with her as she resettled herself on the edge of the bed.

“What’s that?” Kerry watched her curiously. Her eyes followed the zipper as Dar unzipped it, then the eyebrows over them lifted sharply as she saw the blood pressure cuff inside. “Where in the hell did that come from?”

“Dr. Steve,” Dar replied quietly. “Gimme your arm.”

“Dar.”

Ignoring the mild protest, Dar fastened the cuff around her lover’s toned arm and started pumping it.

Kerry sighed. “Do you actually know how to use that?”

“I can manually reprogram the flash bios of an IBM mainframe; I think I can figure it out,” Dar replied, watching the small gauge on the gadget.

Kerry exhaled unhappily and her shoulders drooped.

Dar glanced up and caught the expression. “He made me bring it,” she explained gently. “I wasn’t gonna use it, but since I had to give you a damn bucket of stimulant…”

Kerry peeked at the gauge. “Hmph.” She tapped it with her other hand. “Damn.”

One sixty. Not good. Dar released some of the pressure and checked again. Over one hundred. She unfastened the cuff from Kerry’s arm and rubbed it in attempted comfort. “Probably from the stimulant, sweetheart,” she offered. “Why don’t you lie down?”

Still visibly unhappy, Kerry meekly complied.


Terrors of the High Seas 171

Dar tossed the device onto the dresser and stretched out next to her partner, gently combing Kerry’s disheveled hair with her fingers.

“Bah,” Kerry muttered.

Dar gave her a sympathetic grin. “I bet when I check it later, it’ll be fine.”

Kerry eyed her dourly and then held out a hand. “Gimme that.”

She pointed to the cuff.

Dar reached over and snagged it, then handed it over, surprised when Kerry wrapped it around her arm and started pumping. “Um…”

“Ah ah.” Kerry continued her task. “Fair’s fair, Dar. I thought your heart was going to come out of your chest earlier.” She finished pumping and observed the results. “Hah.” She gave Dar a look. “Higher than mine, darling. Park your head on the pillow.”

Dar blinked in real surprise, looking down at her arm, then she gave Kerry a sheepish grin and wriggled into a more comfortable position next to her partner. “I was stressed,” she commented. “You matter to me.”

Kerry tossed the cuff into the corner and wrapped her arm around Dar as she put her head down on her shoulder. “I guess we’re letting DeSalliers go, huh?” she murmured. “Are we in this over our heads, Dar?”

Dar had her eyes closed, and she welcomed the easing of the headache throbbing across the back of her skull. She considered Kerry’s question for a few minutes. “I don’t know. Maybe.” Her body shifted a little and she pulled Kerry closer. “Let’s take it easy for a while, then head back to St. Johns.” She rubbed Kerry’s back.

“I’d like them to check you out, just in case.”

A green eyeball rotated up and fixed on her in faint accusation.

“I know, I know.” Dar sighed. “I’d be kicking and screaming at the mere suggestion.”

Kerry snorted softly. “Yes, you certainly would be.”

“Humor me,” the dark-haired woman requested. “Please?”

Having made her point, Kerry grunted. “Okay.” She closed her eyes again.

Dar put her arms around Kerry and hugged her. “Atta girl,”

she said, then paused as she heard the sound of a motor approaching. She exchanged a quick glance with Kerry. “Let me go see what that is.”

Kerry hitched herself up on an elbow and watched as Dar got up and left. She considered following her, but her body protested, unwilling to move. Instead she fluffed the pillow up behind her and settled back, tucking her feet up and picking up her teacup, inhaling the fragrant steam.


172 Melissa Good DAR THREADED HER way through the cabin and went to the door, opening it and looking outside. A medium-sized fishing boat was approaching them, with two men on the flying bridge and several others standing in the stern. For a moment, she stared at them, and then comprehension dawned. Pirates?

Dar didn’t see any real fishing gear on the boat, and the men were clustering together, watching her. Her heart rate started to increase, and for a single brief moment she wished she and Kerry were back in the office dealing with a multiple-layered, international cluster fuck. With a soft oath, she pulled her head back inside and bolted for the bench seat, yanking it open and pulling out the case. “Ker!” she yelled. “Keep your damn head down!”

She opened the case and removed the shotgun, loading it hastily as she heard the engines outside throttle down. With a savage motion, she chambered a round, then jumped to the door and threw it open.

Two men were about to jump on board from the fishing boat’s bow. Dar braced herself and threw the gun up to her shoulder, sighting along the barrel as her finger curled around the trigger.

“Hold it!” she barked loudly.

The men in the stern had guns. She could see them from the corner of her eye. But her immediate problem was the men on the bow.

“All right, lady! Take it easy! Nobody gets hurt!” the man closest yelled at her. “You got one gun, we got ten. Now put that down, okay?”

“Fuck you,” Dar snarled back. “Touch the boat and I’ll blow your damn cock off!”

The man lifted his rifle casually. “I’m telling you, lady, put it down!”

Dar didn’t budge. She tightened her finger on the trigger, feeling the cold metal warm to her touch. “Back off!” she yelled at the man. “Get your asses out of here, you pieces of pirate shit!” A hand touched her back and she almost jumped through the bulkhead. “Grrrr!”

“I’m calling the Coast Guard,” Kerry told her in a low voice.

“Tell them that.”

“G’wan, jump! She won’t shoot you! All talk!” the man on the stern yelled. “Hurry!”

Dar felt her heart lurch as the man on the bow prepared to leap.

She trained the barrel of the shotgun on him and swallowed hard, not sure she was either willing or able to pull the trigger.

“Dar.” Kerry’s voice was tense.

I have to protect her. Dar’s inner voice spoke quietly. “Stay back,” she called over her shoulder, and then faced forward. The Terrors of the High Seas 173

man tossed a rope over to the deck and climbed up onto the railing.

Dar steeled herself, and pulled the trigger. The gun bucked powerfully, jerking against her shoulder. Yells erupted. Then she pulled it again. Splinters of white erupted all over the water as both shots blew through the hull of the pirate’s boat near the waterline.

She pumped the shotgun and loaded two more shells into the chamber.

“Crazy bitch!”

“Shoot her ass!”

“Look out!”

“Get the fuck back! Get back! Holy shit!”

“Next one’s gonna put chum in the water,” Dar bellowed,

“instead of fucking fiberglass!” She swung the shotgun toward the stern, since the two men on the bow had dived into the water for cover. One of the men facing her brought his gun up and sighted down it, and their eyes met across their gun sights.

And in that moment, with her life on the line, Dar felt her fear drop away as the predator inside her woke. Her eyes narrowed and a smile etched itself across her face, and she knew way down deep that she not only could pull that trigger…she would. Her finger tightened on the trigger.

“Get the fuck outta here, man! We’re fucking sinking!” One of the men from the bow had climbed over into the stern and grabbed the wheel.

“Coast Guard, Coast Guard, mayday, mayday.” Kerry’s voice came from behind her. “This is Dixieland Yankee, a US registered vessel being attacked just north of AVI B21.”

“Fuck! They’re calling the Coast Guard! Get moving!” The man pointing the gun at Dar dropped his muzzle and ducked behind the cabin. “Move! Move!”

The fishing boat wallowed in the water, then its engines cut in and the bow turned away from them. They gunned the motor and the bow lifted, two holes now visible against its white curve. As they left, one of the men on the stern lifted his rifle to his shoulder and pointed it at them.

“Shit.” Dar jerked back through the doorway, trying to get the door closed.

One of the man’s companions knocked the muzzle up, then cuffed the man in the back of the head. The gun carrier angrily smacked his crewmate with the butt of the rifle. They struggled, shoving each other as the boat retreated, curving widely toward the southern shore of the island just north of Charlie’s.

“We better get out of here,” Dar uttered tensely. “In case they come back.” She turned to find Kerry watching her with a pale face and widened eyes. “You okay?”

Kerry set down the microphone, leaned against the cabin wall, 174 Melissa Good and exhaled. “Yeah.” Her voice held a rough note. “But heading back to some place where I can just…” she took a breath, “take a nap would be very cool.”

Dar guided her over to the couch and sat her down, then put away the shotgun. “Curl up here, sweetheart. I’m pulling up the anchor and we’ll dock over by Charlie and Bud’s,” she said. “Bud’s a medic.”

“Bet his bedside manner’s a peach,” Kerry muttered as she lay down on the couch. She watched Dar’s face as she closed the shotgun case, seeing the tension etched across it and the restless shift of her jaw muscles. “Hey, Dar?”

“Yeah?” Dar didn’t look up.