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a salute. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself? I can rest and listen while you talk.”

“Do you mean the ‘how did a nice little girl like me end up in a dump like this’ story?” There was an edge in her laugh.

“Doesn’t look like a dump to me,” Tom replied.

“It’s nice, I guess. We live on the boat and hardly ever go ashore. It’s better than where I was before. It’s just that sometimes the customers … well, they can be . . .”

“I can imagine. But surely . . .”

“I really shouldn’t talk about it. A lot of girls would love to have this job, rather than the bars or wherever. But you’re nice. You must think I’m awful.”

“Not at all, Catalina. We all do what we have to. You’re a lovely girl, and I’m sorry if you’re life isn’t … well, what you choose.”

She moved closer and leaned toward him. He could see healed track marks on her arms and guessed the rest of the story.

“Are you well treated here?”

“Oh, yes. There are rules, but we are well treated.”

“And how long have you been here?”

“About six months, I think. I’m not very good with time.”

“How about the rest of the crew? Have you gotten to know them?”

“That’s rule number one. We don’t talk about the crew or the owners or any other clients.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s all right. I don’t know that much about your host anyway. When he flies in from his mountain, he doesn’t ever talk to us. He just wants—”

“Then you’ve seen him? Can you describe—”

“Catalina, we need you in the galley,” Javier called from the door behind them.

“Come back when you can, Catalina. I really want to talk with you more.”

“Okay, sure.” She looked nervously toward the galley door.

“Catalina, galley, now!” Javier repeated angrily.

“Fish on!” Gabe shouted.

The mate guided Gabe to the fighting chair and slammed the rod butt into the gimble between Gabe’s legs.

“Hit her, man, then reel like crazy. Don’t let her throw the hook.”

Gabe felt the boat moving forward, as the captain worked to straighten the lines while they were being pulled in, and put a strain on the fish.

“Reel faster, señor. Faster,” the mate encouraged.

The other lines were now in, and Gabe felt the boat slowing. “Keep that rod bent and the captain will start backing down on her. But as long as she’s taking line, he’s going to go forward.”

“Got it,” Gabe said, and braced his back against the chair and pushed hard with his legs to get leverage. The rod bent double, and Gabe cranked in line. He kept a rapid pace of pump and reel, pump and reel, and felt the boat shift into reverse and begin backing down on the fish.

“Bueno, bueno,” the mate commended. “You’re gaining on her.”

Gabe was beginning to feel the strain on his back and legs. How in the world did Tom, twenty years his senior, keep this up for nearly an hour?

Javier came into the salon, bringing Tom another bourbon on a silver tray, and sat down across from the couch in a comfortable swivel rocker. He put the silver tray on the low table between them. On the tray was a napkin, covering something Tom couldn’t see.

“The girl apologizes to you for what she said. She’s young and doesn’t always think before she speaks. She begs you to forgive her and forget what you’ve heard.”

“I heard nothing,” Tom said. “She was just being friendly, but she said nothing.”

“Bueno. I can assure you she will not be that foolish again.” As he spoke, Tom saw blood soaking through the linen napkin.

“Javier, this is a fishing trip. Nothing more. Please go easy on the girl.”

“Señor Bright, you need to understand, there is no such thing as easy on this side of the border. Catalina should have remembered that. Please keep that in mind the next time you have questions. You will be told what you need to know. Questions get people hurt. Enjoy your drink, Señor.”

As Javier left the room, Tom lifted the napkin. Beneath it was a finger, with bright blue polish.

Gabe held the strain on the fish until the boat moved over it. The mate photographed it with the GoPro, and a deckhand was able to grab the sword and bring the big blue marlin partially out of the water. With a shout of victory, they were able to release the J hook, and the beautiful fish was free. With her black eye gleaming, she paused, as if taking a photo of her own, then shook herself free of the deckhand and powered back down in the 600-foot-deep water. Cheers went up from the crew, who began washing down the deck and tackle. It was only an hour back to the dock.

Tom made the rounds with hundred-dollar bills for the crew, and then, expecting to see Javier again, lingered. After a few minutes, the mate returned to the cockpit.

“Javier has been called to a phone conference,” he said. “He wishes you safe travels and thanks you for your business.”

“Very well,” Tom said. “Until the next time.”

“What happened in the salon?” Gabe asked as they drove away from the marina.

“My fault. The girl slipped, but only a little. She said our host owns the boat and flies in from his mountain. She and her friend are escorts for the boss and his clients. Some of them have been less than gentlemen. She had tracks on her arms, well healed and she didn’t appear high. Also, she’s now missing a finger, one with bright blue polish.”

“What do you mean that was your fault?”

“I asked her what she knew about him and what he looks like. I think our fancy cruise director heard us. He hauled her off before she could say anything.”

“And they cut off her finger? That’s harsh.”

“I think it was a message for us. They are warning us it’s a harsh world.”

“No kidding. I just hope that’s all they do to her.”

Chapter

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