A Matter of Time (34 page)

But he did the opposite. He jibed. And suddenly, gale-force wind got behind the sail and violently flung it in the opposite
direction. The massive boom whipped across the boat, catching Dupré in the midsection, lifting him out of the boat, and depositing
him in the black sea.

Flailing wildly, the Frenchman struggled to keep his head above water. But his life vest contained, not foam pads, but 20
water-sealed sets of cashier checks, laboratory plans, formulae and methamphetamine starter doses, one for each port of call.
Instead of buoying him up, 40 pounds of dead weight was dragging him down. His life vest was his death vest.

Dan fired off his last flare just as they reached him. He had gone under. Bartholomew was about to go after him, when Dan
grabbed his arm and held him back. “No! We’ve lost enough people out here tonight!”

In the bright illumination overhead, they could just make out the Frenchman’s face, looking up at them as he
sank. A string of tiny bubbles came up from the corner of his mouth.

Then he was gone.

For a moment, no one spoke. Then Colin murmured, “
Les grenouilles sont finies
.”

Ian looked at him, surprised.

“Frog-gone,” his brother loosely translated, then added, “What? You think I didn’t learn anything at all those academies?”

He pointed at
Care Away
, whose mainsail was flopping loose. “If you guys don’t mind, I’d like to get my boat back!”

“Can you sail her?” asked Bartholomew, concerned.

“With one arm—make that leg—tied behind me!”

Then he thought better of it. “Actually, why don’t you come along? In case I faint, or something. I’ll let you do all the
work; I’ll just tell you what to do.”

Bartholomew nodded, but Dan looked carefully at his friend. “You okay with that? It’s going to be a pretty hairy ride.”

“Piece of cake,” said Bartholomew, grinning.

42
  
  
welcome to bermuda

The No-Name tropical storm reached its peak at midnight and started to track away from Bermuda to the north-northwest, at
ten miles per hour. In its wake there was wind damage everywhere—trees down, power out, boats sunk at their moorings. The
front page of the
Mid-Ocean News
featured a big photo of the
Scandinavian Sovereign
with a massive dock ballard hanging down from her nose. And sure enough, the
Royal Gazette
carried a letter by an indignant citizen shaming the Bermuda Weather Service for failing to issue proper warning.

By the following afternoon, the airport was open, power was mostly restored, and things were getting back to normal.

Colin’s bullet had been removed, and he was recovering nicely in a semi-private, drifting in and out of sleep, when he had
a visitor.

“Colin,” she said softly, “how—are you?”

His eyes opened—and he thought he must still be dreaming. It was the one person he wanted to see most—and whom he’d given
up on ever seeing again.

He couldn’t speak.

“Anson came and got me,” she said at last. “He flew to Boston, but then got right on a plane to Atlanta. My father wasn’t
going to let him see me, but he couldn’t very well stop him.” She smiled. “You know Anson, when he makes his mind up.”

He grinned and nodded.

“When I left here, I was sick as a dog, and sick of you, and—”

“I remember.”

“So, by the time I got to
Live Oaks
, I was totally bummed. Daddy got Doc Tatum to load me up with antibiotics and antidepressants, to the point where, according
to Anson, I was practically drooling.” She laughed. “It wasn’t
that
bad!”

He smiled. “Anson’s been known to exaggerate.”

“Anyway,” she concluded, “I didn’t really want to push the divorce thing, but I was kind of out of it. And you know Daddy.”

She shook her head. “I was not at the hearing. And until Anson told me, I had no idea there was a lump-sum settlement.” She
looked down at him then, and her voice broke, as she said, “I would
never
have let him take
Care Away
!”

“It’s okay, hon,” said Colin, patting her hand and smiling weakly.

“No, it’s not okay!” she insisted, squeezing his hand. “Anyway, when Anson asked me if I was happy, all I could say, he told
me later, was that I wanted to be with you.”

There were tears in Colin’s eyes.

“That was enough for him. He bundled me and Jamie into his rental car. My father was furious, but Anson,
well, he can get awfully angry, too!” she recalled with a smile.

“Tell me about it!” Colin chuckled.

“Anyway, he drove us to Atlanta, and stayed with us and got us on the first plane here.”

Colin shook his head. “If this
is
a dream, I don’t want to wake up. It’s the best I’ve ever had.”

She frowned. “While we were in Atlanta, I called Ian. He said he’d meet me. On the way here, he told me about all that happened.”
She shook her head. “Wow.”

“Yeah, that about sums it up.”

“Thank God, you’re okay!” She looked down at the heavily bandaged leg. “You
are
going to be okay, aren’t you?”

“I am now,” he said, beaming.

Then he grew serious. “You know how they say your life passes before your eyes, just before you drown? Well, it did. I was
in the water at night in a raging gale, my leg shot, trying to keep Eric afloat, and—I sort of had a life review.”

He looked at her. “You know what the best thing in it was? You. And the next best thing? Jamie. And I vowed that if I lived,
I would find you and tell you that.”

She lifted his hand and kissed it.

When she could speak, she said, “I saw a few things myself, waiting in the airport.”

She looked at him. “I’d been on the verge of coming back, and I suspect Daddy sensed it, which was why he was pushing so hard
on the divorce thing. But it wasn’t until Anson talked to me while we waited at the airport, that I saw some things. I saw
you through his eyes. I saw the Beater, one of the best sailors on the planet. I saw how
sailing was your life and your passion, and how wrong it would be for you to give it up.”

Colin didn’t know what to say.

Amy did. Her eyes were shining now. “Thanks to Anson, we were in the Crown Room at the airport. There was an old
Time
magazine that had an article about home schooling. About how Harvard and other colleges are dying to get home-schooled kids
because they have good study habits, are emotionally more mature, and less likely to trash the campus.”

“Don’t tell me!” he said, laughing. “We’re going to home school Jamie!”

She nodded. “We’re enrolling him right now in
Care Away
Academy! Do you love it?”

“I do love it. I love
you
!”

“And we’re going to do this together,” she rushed on. “Don’t get the idea I’m going to do all the teaching. You’re going to
teach him math, which he’ll need for navigation, and mechanics, so he’ll know how to keep his boat shipshape, and French,
for when we go to the Med—”

“Hmm, I might let
you
teach him French,” Colin said with a rueful smile. He looked up at her, pleading. “Amy, tell me this dream will never end.”

“It never will, darling. I promise.”

In the airport restaurant that afternoon, waiting to board the plane to New York, Maud and Margaret, and Jane and Buff were
having a late lunch.

Maud was her usual blunt self. Fixing Buff with her gaze, she said, “You think you have your priorities straight now?”

“I do,” he replied, meeting her gaze so that she could see that he meant it.

“And you,” she turned to Jane, “the one who married him for better or for worse? The next time it gets worse, you’re not going
to mouse around. You’re going to tell him what he’s got to jolly well do to make it better? Do you read me?”

“I do!” she exclaimed, laughing.

“Then I now pronounce you new man and new wife! And to celebrate, I think we should have a bottle of their best champagne—which
you
,” she informed Buff, “are cheerfully going to pay for!”

“I’ll drink to that,” he said cheerfully.

“And so shall we all!” agreed Maud heartily.

“Shh, Maudie,” said her cousin, “Not so loud! You don’t have to make a perpetual spectacle!”

“Of course I do! I’m unsinkable, remember?”

Atop his hill, on the blue-tiled terrace surrounded by bougainvillea, the owner did his best to appreciate the clear and sparkling
sunset.

To be sure, the Swiss account had been drained. And he had permanently lost his eyes and ears in the police department. And
he would be forced to sell the coffee plantation in Jamaica to cover his losses. That was the most unpleasant part, no longer
being able to escape the island’s cold, damp winters.

But he chose to look at the bright side. Though their operation was compromised, he was not. His accomplice had drowned without
revealing anything—or he would not be sitting here now. That meant the network was still
intact. All it needed was a little patience, until fate brought him another accomplice with a fresh infusion of capital.

In the meantime, he would still wear his medals to the Queen’s Birthday Party on the Governor General’s lawn, the third Monday
in June.

Yes, there
was
brightness after rain.