Nerd In Shining Armor Part 28

"Jack, it wouldn't be the sa-"

"I know you've said that, but I can't believe it. I think it's worth at least a try."

"And if we try and it turns out bad?"

Never in a million years. "It won't."

She shook her head. "You can't guarantee that."

"Sure I can. I-"

Brogan moaned.

Jack pulled away from him so fast he d.a.m.ned near squeezed the trigger on the gun. With the size of the gun, he might've blown a hole in Brogan and himself with one shot. Shaking, he scrambled to his feet and pointed the gun at Brogan's head.

"Oh, Jack, for heaven's sake."

"I do not want him to wake up while the two of us are all cuddly-wuddly."

"You had a gun barrel in his ear. That should protect your manly reputation."

Brogan moaned again and his eyes fluttered open. Then they closed again.

"What do you think?" Jack murmured.

"The bleeding's about stopped," Gen said. "And his skin feels warmer, so I think he's doing better. You'd better go get the cord and we'll tie him up before he comes completely awake."

"Good idea." Jack walked over, picked up the blood-encrusted cord, and remembered how it got that way. He hurried back over to her. "Gen, let me look at your hand."

"It's okay."

"Let me see it." He crouched down beside her and took her left hand in his. Even with blurry vision, he could tell it was a ma.s.s of dried blood. "s.h.i.+t. Stop nursing this maniac so we can go down to the water and soak your hand."

"There's no time." She pulled her hand away. "Let's roll him over and tie him up so we can get another load of guavas before dark."

"I'll tie him up. You go rinse your hand in the water."

"It's all r-"

"Gen, do it." When he saw all that blood on her he wished like h.e.l.l that he could choke the life out of Brogan. He didn't trust the gun to finish him off, but choking would be an excellent alternative if the gun failed. Too bad he'd promised Gen not to kill the guy. He had promised, though, so Brogan got to live a little longer.

He tied him up good and tight, yanking on the cord a little harder than necessary, because it made him feel better.

"Jack!"

He glanced up to see Gen running back toward him. He leaped to his feet. "What's the matter?"

She was panting. "I just saw that scruffy old trawler. Nick's pickup men are coming this way."

Although still far from land, Matt had to slow the boat considerably so he didn't run up on any submerged reefs. The albatross got way ahead, and he wasn't sorry to see the bird go. This trip was already spooky enough.

Eventually Lincoln returned, looking subdued.

"How's your mom?" Matt asked.

"Okay, I guess. She's all, I'm fine, I'm fine. Go back up to the c.o.c.kpit and get the sandwiches while I make some new ones. But she's, like, still freaked. And it's my fault."

Matt took pity on the kid. "Don't be too hard on yourself. I can see why you got so excited about the albatross. I flipped out the first time I saw one."

"It's a big honkin' bird, isn't it?"

"Yep." Matt decided not to go into the bad luck thing.

"Well, I'd better get the eats shoveled up. At least Mom didn't, like, break the plate."

"I think it's that stuff that doesn't break, but it wouldn't have mattered if it broke."

"Easy for you to say. I'm all, There goes my allowance if it breaks." He started tossing ham, bread, and lettuce back on the plate. "Can I throw this over the side? For the fish?"

"Why not?"

Lincoln picked up the last of the spilled food and stood. "Isn't there something spooky about an albatross? Like a superst.i.tion or something?"

Matt glanced at him. "Seamen believe it's bad luck to kill one."

"Well, duh. It should be. They're beautiful. But it's not bad luck to, like, see one, is it?"

"I don't think so. And at least we know there's land not far away, even if we can't see it. That's kind of rea.s.suring."

"Yeah." Lincoln glanced around. " 'Cause we're like a toy boat in the middle of a freakin' big ocean."

"I know where we are, so don't be scared."

"I'm not scared, dude." Lincoln tried to look c.o.c.ky. "I was just asking about this albatross deal."

Matt was guessing the kid was at least slightly scared. "Well, an albatross is kind of like a black cat. Some people say they're bad luck, but personally I like black cats."

Lincoln nodded. "Me, too. I wish I could have a cat. Or a dog. But Mom's all, n.o.body's home enough to take care of a pet, which is true."

"What you do is get two cats, so they keep each other company."

"Yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about." Lincoln sighed. "But that's twice as much food and stuff."

Matt's thoughts leaped ahead. He and Lincoln could get a couple of kittens at the pound. Matt would keep them, so Annabelle wouldn't have the bother or cost, but Lincoln would have visiting privileges whenever he wanted. Then again, Annabelle would probably nix the whole thing.

"Guess I'll go dump this over the side," Lincoln said.

"Okay." Matt glanced at the sun and estimated about two hours of good light remained, just enough time to make it back to Kauai. They needed to turn around and abandon this wild-goose chase. Nothing was here. The only other vessel he'd seen was an old trawler, which shouldn't be fis.h.i.+ng because it was a protected area. But Matt didn't have time to play wildlife cop. Other than the trawler, which he'd spotted about thirty minutes ago before it motored out of sight, they were alone.

They'd checked around a couple of tiny deserted islands and found nothing. Now there wasn't even one of those in sight. Like he'd told Lincoln, he wasn't lost. But he still felt isolated. "Lincoln, come here a sec," he called.

"Yeah?" Lincoln climbed the steps, his plate empty.

"Are you still picking up vibes, or whatever it is you're going on?"

"You think I'm, like, making this up, don't you?"

"No, not exactly, but I-"

"Hey, never mind. That's cool. I don't expect you to believe me. But we're getting closer."

"How much closer?"

Lincoln shrugged. "I dunno, dude. Just closer."

Matt gazed at him in frustration. "That's all you can tell me? You're not picking up anything more specific than that?" He couldn't believe he was actually asking such a question, but Lincoln was all he had.

"Not on that deal, but I can, like, tell you something else."

"What's that?"

"Mom thinks you're hot."

Genevieve knew they had about two minutes to decide how to handle this new development.

"You're sure it's the pickup men?" Jack asked.

"It has to be. It's an old green and white boat, just like Nick described. Who else would be roaming around? I guess they finally figured out where to go to pick him up."

"This might be our only shot at getting rescued for a long time," Jack said.

"That's what I'm thinking."

"Okay, so we tell them Brogan tried to kill us and see if we can get them on our side," Jack said.

Genevieve shook her head. "Too risky. Nick will try to say otherwise, and they might believe him, considering that he gave them money to begin with."

Nick opened his mouth, and his voice was a harsh croak. "What's . . . going on?"

"Nothing," Genevieve said. "Jack, stuff my makeup bag in his mouth and use your belt to hold it there. Then throw the towel over him. I'll go down to the beach and wave them in."

"Wait! We haven't figured out what to do!"

"We're out of time."

"Then at least take the gun!"

"Oh, sure. They'll definitely want to row in if they see me waving a gun. No, I'm using the bikini as bait. And let me do the talking." She didn't have the foggiest idea what she'd say, but she had a little while to think about it.

She ran down to the beach and started jumping up and down, hoping she looked like a star on Baywatch instead of a sunburned chick with bad hair. The thing to remember about these guys was that they were in need of money.

Money. She turned and ran back up to where Jack was draping the towel over Nick. "Go into his back pocket and fetch his wallet. See if he has any cash."

"Oh, man."

"Come on, Jack. This is no time to turn h.o.m.ophobic on me." She ran back down to the waterline and continued her Baywatch jiggle.

The trawler chugged within about two hundred yards. Because she was still in possession of Jack's gla.s.ses, she was able to make out the two men on board. One stayed behind the wheel while the other one watched the bottom, obviously looking for reefs.

"Cut the engine!" the guy in front yelled. Then he busied himself with the anchor. Apparently her Baywatch imitation had worked, because once the anchor was lowered, they dropped a little motorboat about the size of Uncle Rufus's into the water and pointed it toward the beach.

Jack came up beside her. "A hundred bucks in twenties. "Looks like he took it out of the ATM before he left."

"That's it? I thought he was planning to pay these two off."

"I think he was planning to b.u.mp them off and use their boat to get to his next rendezvous point. Why waste cash when bullets are so cheap?" Jack patted his back pocket. "But we're okay. I have a little over three hundred, so that's four hundred all together. That might get their attention, at least."

Genevieve gazed at him in astonishment. "You have three hundred dollars in your wallet? Why?"

Jack shrugged. "I didn't know if you might need it."

"Me."

"Well, yeah. I thought you might get fed up with Brogan and want to catch a commuter flight back. I wanted to have enough cash that I could give you the plane fare and I wasn't sure what it would run, being a last-minute reservation."

Unexpectedly, her eyes filled with tears. Fortunately, because she had the gla.s.ses, Jack probably couldn't see well enough to notice. "That is the sweetest thing any man's ever done for me. Thanks, Jack."

"But the money turned out to be useless."

"Maybe not. Maybe it'll be enough for these guys." It was hard to tell. They didn't look all that smart, but looks could be deceiving.

Both of them wore dirty white T-s.h.i.+rts and stained work pants. One, obviously the older, had a gray-streaked beard. The other one just looked like he hadn't bothered to shave. Both were on the paunchy side and wore mirrored sungla.s.ses.

"From the looks of them, ten bucks would be a vast improvement."

"They do look pitiful. Now that we know Nick planned to kill them, I almost feel sorry for them."

"Don't." As the boat drew nearer, Jack lowered his voice. "If grungy bad guys had a union, they'd be card-carrying members."

"They remind me of some of the good ol' boys back in the Hollow. All they need is a chaw in their cheek and Red Man gimme caps instead of those cheap tourist ones."

As if to prove her point, the younger guy spit a stream of tobacco into the water.

"Oh, boy," Jack said. "You'd better let me do the talking. Uh, what are we going to say?"