and insects peeped in harmony and the ocean lapped against the dockâs supports in a regular rhythm. From above and somewhere near, Ryan heard the sound of music and quiet laughter. The smell of pot smoke wafted on the night air, and he wondered just what type of place sheâd taken him.
âIs that pot I smell?â he whispered. She nodded.
âSo it would seem.â
âWhat kind of friend is this?â
She finished mooring the boat and gave him a glance. âOne who knows how to take care of himself.â
Well, that was certainly cryptic. Ryan didnât like it, and his mistrust of her and her adventurous life reared up again.
âSince last month the risk of getting arrested with pot has been substantial in Key Largo. The nearby country club has demanded a crackdown. I think we should just go to the police. Let them figure it out.â
âIf you wish, of course. But in the meantime this man will keep you safe.â
The bushes rustled and he saw a slender man with dishwater blond hair tied in a ponytail emerge from between two trees. He wore battered jeans low on his slender hips and a white tee shirt. He held a rolled cigarette between his finger and thumb and took a hit off of it in a deep inhalation. When he blew out the smoke and the scent of pot intensified. He smiled at Caldridge.
âWell hello, beautiful. To what do I owe the honor of your visit?â He closed the distance between them, walked up to Caldridge, wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her up against him. He lowered his head and gave her a long, leisurely kiss.
Ryan wasnât sure where to look. Caldridge kissed the man back but kept her arms low and placed her palms lightly on his hips, and Ryan had the impression that while she indulged the man, they werenât a couple. The realization made him happier than it should have. When the man was finished kissing her, he stepped back and grinned at her. She gave a slight shake of her head but smiled back.
âSebastian Ryan meet Wilson Vanderlock,â she said. She looked at Vanderlock. âMr. Ryan works for an insurance company.â Vanderlock reached out and shook Ryanâs hand.
âIâm covered, thanks,â he said.
âRyanâs in trouble.â
She ran down the eveningâs events for Vanderlock and turned back to him.
âThey want you to pay up. Whoâd you deny coverage to?â
Ryan was confused. âYou mean lately? Only you.â
Vanderlock snorted. âNow that was the best decision youâve ever made. Sheâs impossible to keep safe. Believe me, Iâve tried.â
Caldridge shot Vanderlock a warning look and he subsided, but a smile stayed on his lips.
âWhateverâs going on,â Ryan said, âI donât think itâs safe to be around me. You donât have to get involved.â To his surprise, Vanderlock just shrugged.
âIâm happy to help any friend of Caldridgeâs. Youâd best come to the house. Iâve got some friends over, but theyâre reliable.â He waved them up the path.
âIâve explained to Ms. Caldridge that sheâs a statistical nightmare,â Ryan said as he followed Vanderlock through the trees. Vanderlock barked a laugh.
âThat she is. I think Iâm going to like you.â
âAnd yet, letâs not forget that itâs not me thatâs being attacked,â Caldridge pointed out. They emerged onto a back lawn and Vanderlock threw an arm around her shoulders.
âI have to agree with Caldridge on this one. Someone wants to convince you to pay.â
âI think you both are jumping to conclusions. Itâs the hip hop weekend, when three hundred thousand people descend on Miami Beach and crime spikes. I think they were just burglars looking for some cash.â
Vanderlock gave him a glance. âIf Caldridge thinks theyâre after you in particular, then they are. She may be a
Charles De Lint, John Jude Palencar