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“let’s start with the grip. Shake hands with the racquet, Tommy; you too, Rosie.”
    The lesson went more smoothly than Chuck would have believed. Tommy was a pretty good natural athlete, and Rosie concentrated so much that she made up for her lack of natural talent. By the end of their hour, Chuck had them both hitting a decent forehand and backhand. Maybe it was easier to teach a raw beginner with some talent than to try and correct a more experienced player’s years of bad habits. They were just walking off the court when Harry and Clare Carras drove up in the Mercedes.
    Chuck felt a pang of disappointment. Harry was supposed to be in Miami. Still, he thought, glancing at his watch, it was early.
    “Ain’t that something?” Tommy asked.
    “What?” Chuck replied.
    “That lady,” Tommy said. Rosie had gone into the pro shop. “Ain’t she something?” He nodded in the direction of Clare.
    “Not bad,” Chuck said.
    “Not bad?
” Tommy said. “You must run with a different crowd than me. Where I come from, that’s downright fucking spectacular.”
    “I guess she is, at that,” Chuck agreed.
    “Who are those people?” Tommy asked.
    “Harry Carras and his wife, Clare.”
    “She don’t look like nobody’s wife to me,” Tommy said.
    Chuck laughed. “I guess not.”
    “Who is Carras? What does he do?”
    “Retired businessman, I think,” Chuck replied. “I’ve played with them a couple of times and I’ve given her a lesson or two, but I don’t really know that much about them.”
    “Uh-huh,” Tommy said, and Chuck somehow thought the man didn’t believe him. It was time to change the subject. “Where are you from, Tommy?” he asked.
    “New York, originally,” Tommy said. “Brooklyn. But we moved down here recently.”
    “Retired?”
    “Yes and no,” Tommy replied. “I retired from the New York Police Department, and I just joined the Key West PD.”
    “First cop I ever had for a student,” Chuck said.
    “You’d told me a month ago I’d be on a tennis court I’d have laughed my ass off,” Tommy said. “But Rosie got at me; she said if we’re moving to a new place we ought to do some new things.”
    “Did you enjoy it?”
    “Amazingly enough, I did. I want to do it some more.”
    “Victor and I could make a pretty good club player out of you this winter,” Chuck said. “What you want to do is set up a regular lesson, say twice, three times a week.”
    “I’d just as soon stick with you,” Tommy said.
    “Our deal here is that Victor works with the beginners, and I handle the seasoned players,” Chuck said. “But when Victor’s jammed up, as he was today, then I’d be happy to teach you.”
    “I guess that’s okay,” Tommy said.
    “You’ll like Victor. Check with Merk in the shop and set up a schedule for you and Rosie.”
    Tommy shook his hand and headed for the pro shop.
    “Hey, Chuck!”
    Chuck turned and looked toward the next court.
    “Want to hit some with us?” Harry Carras called out.
    “Thanks, Harry, but I’ve got another lesson scheduled,” Chuck replied. “Maybe later, if you’re going to be around.”
    “Nah, I’m leaving town in a couple of hours.”
    “Good,” Chuck said under his breath. “Good.”
    Chuck was five minutes early at his destination, and there was no sign of Clare. Six-fifteen came and went, and still she didn’t show. Had he somehow missed the boat?
    At 6:25 the Mercedes pulled into the lot, and she got out. “Come on!” she called, trotting toward a canal cut into the island, toting an overnight case.
    Chuck grabbed his bag, put the top up on the Porsche, and ran after her. She was getting aboard a boat, along with half a dozen other people. He caught up, stepped aboard, and took a seat next to her. “Where are we going?” he asked.
    “Stick around and find out,” she said.
    The boat backed down the canal, turned around, and headed out into a stretch of open water, picking up speed. A row of houses on the water