“Storm!” Keiko yelled.
Storm spun to see a man struggling in Keiko’s grasp. With his arms tied behind his back, he lurched and stumbled across the rolling deck.
Thrashing against Keiko’s restraints, he went down hard and swore. Though many of the words were unintelligible, the F’s sprayed saliva. The fall hadn’t hurt his mouth any. He winced when Keiko hauled him up by his hands. Storm suppressed a sympathy grimace; Keiko knew exactly how sore his shoulders would be.
“Fuckin-A, ya fuckin’ bitches. I’m just helpin’ Ken.”
Storm realized her mouth was hanging open. It was the guy she’d seen in the dive shop, hanging around with Ken. He’d caught her eye because he’d been shirtless—a bit cocky, she’d thought—and one arm had a colorful tattoo of a bald eagle carrying a round ball with a fuse. He was still shirtless, and the eagle on his deltoid muscle practically flapped its wings with the fellow’s aggravation. Those surf trunks looked familiar, too. A wardrobe as extensive as his vocabulary.
“Now you know what we felt like.” Stella kicked at the back of his bare heels.
The man gave a little hop and snarled over his shoulder at her. “Ow.” He choked back a few indecipherable words.
Stella drew back her sneaker again, threatening. He jerked left to avoid her and bumped into Keiko, who gave him a hard shove, then kept him from falling by hauling back on his arms again.
The women were indignant and showed it.
“You know this guy?” Storm asked them.
“His name’s Billy,” Keiko said. “He’s a friend of Ken’s.”
Billy glowered at Storm. “Looka that. The fuckin’ lawyer.”
All three women ignored him.
“We found Damon,” Stella said. “He’s unconscious and tied up.”
Storm pointed toward the inert leg. “Is that Damon?”
“Fuckin’ traitor,” Billy muttered.
“Traitor?” Storm asked. “Why?”
Billy looked at the blade Stella was holding. “Cuz he gave that to you.”
“How do you know I didn’t have it in my bra?” Stella asked.
“You could hide a whole tool chest in there, couldn’t you?” Billy snickered, which elicited a shoulder-wrenching pull from Keiko.
“You’re in no position to be rude.”
He grunted out a few more obscenities, then leaned toward Stella. “But you didn’t have it in there, did you? We checked.”
Stella’s smile turned to an expression of disgust and her hand flew to her chest. Billy sneered. “Damon slipped it under the door.”
“Why’d he do that?” Keiko asked.
“Wimpy fucker felt guilty.”
“Why’d you kidnap us?” Storm asked.
“Orders. We were gonna let you go. No big deal.”
Storm doubted every word that came out of the man’s mouth. No big deal? She felt like spitting at him, but it wouldn’t help. Plus, she’d probably miss and hit one of the women.
“Why did you want us on this boat?” Stella asked.
“Get you out of the way for a while. For your own good.”
“Oh sure.” Keiko tugged his arms. Tendons bulged all the way from his shoulders up his neck. It looked as if he tried not to cry out.
“Did you break into my hotel room?” Storm asked.
“Your hotel room? Hell, no.” He seemed to think for a minute. “The local syndicate might have, though.”
“Working with them doesn’t bother you?”
Billy looked at her and tried to shrug, but Keiko gave the rope another wrap around her fist, and he flinched reflexively.
“Where’s Lara?” Stella asked.
“She’s around,” Billy said. He acted like she was getting her nails done.
“Where?”
“I don’t know. Whaddya think, I’m her babysi—”
“Jesus!” Storm shouted. A silhouette had passed under the boat, visible for a split second in her peripheral vision. She swerved away from it at the same time a swell rolled under the boat. At least she thought it was a swell.
The shadow glided by again, close to the boat’s hull. Huge, half the length of the Quest. Dark, with a blunt head and a tapering tail. It was a brief glimpse, but every atavistic gene in her subconscious knew that shape.