The Secret of Othello Read online

  “Good job,” said a Navy lieutenant who’d come ashore.

  “Just lucky,” Steven said modestly. “Is that all of it?”

  The lieutenant watched several seamen lift the object. Other sailors were beating through the bushes, looking for more parts. “I guess so. They’ll examine it back in the lab.”

  Denny was bored by the whole thing. He waited impatiently until it was time to return to Fisher Key, by which time the sun had gone down and stars were smattering across the sky. Dad was waiting at the pier, sitting on the hood of his patrol car with some buckets of fried chicken.

  “I hear a celebration is in order,” he said.

  Brian pulled Denny aside. “I’d love to stay, but I’ve got to go check on Mom.”

  “Okay,” Denny said. “Call me.”

  It was dark, and Aunt Riza was helping Mom light some citronella to keep the bugs away. Denny risked a quick kiss. Brian’s mouth was warm and salty and he had a sappy grin on his face.

  I think I love you, Denny almost said, but caught himself.

  “See you later,” Brian said, and when he drove away it was like Denny had to let a part of himself drive away as well.

  When he returned to the picnic bench, Steven was already on his second piece of chicken.

  “There should be a reward,” he said. “I’ll split it with you, Aunt Riza.”

  She waved her hand with a smile. “Anyone could have found it.”

  This dinner was a lot more relaxed than the last one. Denny was glad that Aunt Riza hadn’t done anything to make Brian uncomfortable. Mom, too, had been very casual and cool about the whole thing. He wondered how cool she would be if he said, “By the way, I think I’m in love with this guy.” Not that he would say it. Not that it could be true. Still, Denny wanted to get Brian back into the ocean as soon as possible. Maybe they could go skinny-dipping—

  “By Saturday,” Dad was saying, and Denny stopped zoning out on him.

  “Huh?” Denny asked.

  “The roof should be fixed by Saturday,” Dad was saying. “Another week to get the carpeting and painting all set. Then we can all move back in.”

  “You can pick out the color you want for your walls,” Mom said.

  Steven bit into his chicken and shrugged. Denny didn’t think he himself should pick the colors, not when he was going to be away for most of every year until he graduated from the academy.

  “You pick, Mom,” Denny said. “Whatever you like.”

  Mom pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I always wanted purple.”

  “With a yellow accent wall,” Dad added.

  Steven coughed around his chicken. “You don’t even know what an accent wall is, Dad!”

  “I watch HGTV in the lunchroom at the station,” Dad said. “It’s very educational.”

  Mom’s phone rang with a call from the local newspaper, asking about the satellite find. Denny left her, Aunt Riza, and Steven to tell the tale. He helped Dad throw away the remains of dinner and was a little surprised when Dad asked, “How are things going with Brad Flaherty?”

  “Okay, I guess,” Denny said.

  “I heard he was up at Darla Stewart’s shop this afternoon, asking about the Agana.”

  Denny’s pulse quickened. “What did they tell him?”

  “The same thing they tell every overambitious tourist. It’s not open to the public. He’s going to have to look hard for someone who’s going to take him, and it’s not because of that wheelchair.”

  Denny said, “He asked us to take him Friday. We said no. I don’t care if he fires us.”

  Dad patted his shoulder. “If he fires you, look on the bright side. You can rest up and get ready for your test. Or spend Friday with Brian.”

  Okay, that was definitely a good idea. With Steven away, Denny would have the Idle all to himself. He could take Brian out for an entire day’s sail. They could go find a private beach, get suntan oil all over each other…

  “I can see you making plans already,” Dad said.

  Denny blushed and turned away.

  He was so excited about the new plan that he was surprised, later, when he told Steven about Brad and Steven got annoyed.

  “We’ve told him he’s not ready,” Steven said. “It’s too dangerous.”

  They were walking back to the marina from their house. It was a short trip along an old dirt path. The ocean lapped quietly just a few feet away. The night was warm and fragrant, quiet but for some lights and laughter from some offshore boats.

  Denny replied, “Maybe he doesn’t think he should listen to a couple of eighteen-year-olds.”

  “Smartest eighteen-year-olds on this island,” Steven grumbled.

  As they approached the marina, they saw a taxi pull into the parking lot. Claire stepped out, her face tight and angry, and stalked toward the Othello II. Harrison paid the driver and followed her closely, saying something, but they were too far away to be heard clearly.

  “She doesn’t look happy,” Denny observed.

  “Guy’s a jerk, I told you,” Steven said.

  Harrison caught Claire’s arm and pulled her to a stop. She spun on him, her free hand raised in a slap. He caught it and pushed her backward so hard she staggered on her heels.

  Steven started to run, but he was too late.

  Harrison punched Claire in the face. She fell to the pier and didn’t get up.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Steven sprinted down the dock. Harrison saw him coming and warned, “Stay out of this, kid—” but Steven didn’t bother with conversation. He barreled right into Harrison, trying to knock him flat.

  But Harrison wasn’t easy to overpower. He went down, but took Steven with him. They rolled close to the dock’s edge, grappling, swearing at each other. Steven brought his knee up hard. Harrison twisted and Steven’s knee hit the dock instead with a bright flare of pain. Harrison tried to land a kidney punch. Steven twisted, spat in Harrison’s face, and got his arm against the other man’s windpipe.

  “Easy to hit a girl,” Steven snarled. “Harder to hit me.”

  Harrison’s thumbs came up, aiming for Steven’s eyes. Steven had to lift his arm away to block, and Harrison bucked him off. Steven would have tumbled into the water except for Denny, who grabbed him by the shoulder and hauled him back. Harrison’s friend Bud, along with another man from the crew, grabbed him and pinned him into place.

  “Let me go!” Harrison was yelling. “Goddamned kid has no business—”

  Steven almost lunged for him again, but Denny’s grip was firm. “Quit it,” Denny growled.

  Boaters had gathered on their top decks or on the dock to watch the spectacle. Claire, nearly forgotten by everyone, was sitting up with one hand pressed to her jaw. She looked dazed and teary-eyed, her blouse disheveled.

  “Let me help her,” Steven said to Denny.

  Denny let him go. Steven helped Claire up, asking, “Are you okay? Did he break it?”

  She shook her head angrily but didn’t say anything.

  Bud turned around. “You’re fired, Harrison. You’ll never work for this company again, or any company if I have a say in it.”

  Harrison glared at him. “Me? I didn’t do anything!”

  “He punched her,” Denny said. He looked as angry as Steven felt, but not as violent.

  “You want to press charges?” Bud asked Claire.

  Claire shook her head again. “I want him gone.”

  Steven was tempted to call Dad anyway. That way they’d have a record of it in case there was trouble later. But Bud and his men simply walked Harrison up to the parking lot while a crew member packed his things. Claire went aboard the Othello II without a thank you or anything else to Steven. He guessed she felt embarrassed, or furious, or both.

  “My, that was unexpected,” said a man behind Steven. “Are you all right, son?”

  “I’m fine,” Steven said, but that was a lie. His knee was throbbing. He blinked past the pain to focus on the retired NASA worker he’d me
t at the Li’l Conch Café. His wife was a few feet behind him, on the deck of a small cabin cruiser. It took a moment for Steven to remember their names—Ed and Irma. He hadn’t realized they were boaters.

  “I’m fine,” Steven said, and it was mostly true.

  “Your lip is bleeding,” Ed said. “Irma, get the kit.”

  Steven felt his mouth. His fingers came away red. “It’s nothing, really,” he said, because he’d had worse in sparring.

  “Come over here and I’ll get you some ice,” Irma said. “You don’t want a big fat lip in the morning.”

  Denny looked amused. “It might improve his looks.”

  Ed did a double take between them. “Twins, eh? I knew some twins once. Back in Iowa City. Don’t tell Irma.”

  “Heard that,” she called back.

  Steven really didn’t need to be mother-henned, but Irma’s attention was sweet and from the deck of their boat he could keep an eye on Harrison, who was still up in the parking lot. Ed said, “Heard on the radio there was some excitement at Bardet Key. They found our satellite, huh?”

  “Steven found it,” Denny said.

  “It was just good luck,” Steven replied.

  “All of it?” Irma asked, dabbing Steven’s lip with an antiseptic wipe. “Or just some pieces?”

  Steven replied, “It looked intact.”

  “You can’t always tell,” Ed said sagely. “What’s the story with that fellow and the fight?”

  A cab pulled into the parking lot. Steven watched closely as Harrison got into it. “He’s just a jerk.”

  “No man should ever hit a woman,” Irma said. “I’d shoot him square between the eyes.”

  Denny asked, curiously, “Do you have a gun on board, ma’am?”

  She winked at him. “Two of them. But don’t tell Ed. He only thinks there’s one.”

  “I heard that,” Ed said, and kissed her.

  Steven watched the cab pull away. He had the heavy, disconcerting feeling that it wasn’t the last they’d see of Harrison. Trouble like him had a habit of showing up again when you least expected it.

  *

  The next morning, Steven’s knee was swollen and achy and he decided it might be better to skip his morning run.

  “How about you go see the doctor?” Denny asked.

  “How about you don’t worry about it,” Steven replied.

  “In forty-eight hours we’ll be taking the black belt test. What if it’s not healed?”

  “It’ll be fine,” Steven said.

  They were on deck, practicing some punches, when Claire walked over. She was wearing oversized sunglasses and the side of her face was bruised.

  “About last night,” she said, her Irish accent stronger than ever. “I wanted to apologize for getting you involved.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Steven said, stopping the kata. He swung down to the dock but didn’t try to get too close to her. “He deserved what he got.”

  Denny leaned over the railing. “He deserved worse.”

  Her gaze went past them both to a pair of seagulls squawking on a post. “He made a proposition. Not a romantic one—a business one. Which I disagreed with on ethical grounds. And so he was angry.”

  Steven wanted to soothe the lost sound in her voice. To be truthful, he wanted to hold her and tell her that he’d protect her forever. “Being angry doesn’t give him the right to hit you.”

  “On that we agree,” Claire said. “Anyway, this isn’t the first job he’s been fired from and it won’t be the last. He’s gone now. Just in time, too—our sister ship recovered the satellite yesterday.”

  Denny said, “Actually, Steven found it.”

  Her mouth quirked. “Oh, that was you? They said it was a kid and his mom.”

  Steven rolled his eyes. “Not a kid.”

  Claire smiled fully now. “Well done. But it means the job is over. We’re moving the boat over to a marine yard to finish repairs on the engine and most of us are flying back to Virginia. Which is a shame—I like your little island.”

  Denny said, “We like it, too.”

  “Good luck with the Coast Guard, Denny. And Steven, you too with the SEALS. I know you’ll both be wonderful.”

  She stepped close to Steven and kissed his right cheek. Her soft lips smelled like strawberry gloss. “Thanks for last night,” she murmured.

  Steven watched her retreat down the dock. He’d probably never see her again.

  “Come on, Romeo,” Denny said. “Brad and Tristan will be here in a half hour, and we have to tell them that you won’t be here tomorrow.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  “You’re all smiley this morning,” Mom said over breakfast.

  “Am I?” Brian asked, playing innocent. He wasn’t about to tell her he and Denny had been exchanging sappy text messages for half the night. Denny thought maybe they’d have the Idle to themselves tomorrow. If so, they might go out to a private beach. And things would progress from there, in whatever way felt best for both of them…

  “And now you’re zoning out on me,” Mom complained, but her eyes were soft and fond. “I know this college thing has been hard. It’s good to see you relax.”

  “It’s all been harder on you,” he said, truthfully. “College and Henrik and the money and everything.”

  Her hand was steady on her orange juice glass. “Day by day. That’s the trick, right?”

  He wished she looked a little more confident when she said it, but at least the sentiment sounded right. Day by day indeed.

  Come midmorning, he was tired of hanging around the hotel. Duma Key was only going to last him another hundred pages, so he drove over to the Bookmine to look through the shelves for something new to read. Mrs. Anderson was at the front counter, taping up a huge box of books.

  “Hi, Brian,” she said. “Can I ask you to help me move this? Sean’s out today. It goes right there, that corner.”

  “Sure,” he said. The box wasn’t too heavy at all. “How’s your morning? No news crews when you opened?”

  She laughed. “Sadly enough, finding a multimillion-dollar piece of equipment didn’t get us on the morning news.”

  “I guess that’s good. I’m not a big fan of reporters sticking their microphones in my face.”

  “Me neither,” she said.

  The store around them was empty, the air quiet except for some classical music playing on the radio. Mrs. Anderson gazed at him frankly and said, “I wanted to thank you for all you’re doing for Denny. It means a lot to us, to see him happy for a change.”

  “He’s not usually happy?” Brian asked, feeling a pang.

  “I can’t say that, but he’s always been…maybe ‘lonely’ is the word,” Mrs. Anderson said. “He was afraid to tell us for so long. When you keep a secret like that, it weighs you down. And of course he wouldn’t let himself date or have fun. So, a boyfriend is a good thing.”

  Brian blushed. He hadn’t been thinking of himself as Denny’s boyfriend, but he guessed they were at that stage by now.

  Mrs. Anderson patted his hand. “And I wanted to thank you for being understanding about Denny’s going away party. My sister is a very wonderful person, but too rigid in her thinking. I’m working on her, though. Give me some more time, and I think I can get her to come around. Eventually.”

  Brian thought back to his and Denny’s dinner date down in Marathon. Family party, Denny had said. Not my going away party. Carefully he said, “In the meantime, it’s best if I don’t come.”

  Her phone rang. She said, warmly, “Thanks for understanding,” and turned to answer it.

  He left without buying anything. The short drive back to the hotel was made with fingers clenched on the steering wheel. He parked and pulled out his phone and typed a message: I wasn’t even invited to your stupid party, was I?

  But Denny was out at sea, of course. He wouldn’t be able to answer. Brian deleted it. He felt adrift with anger and hurt, with nothing to do about it until Denny came back to shor
e.

  Nothing except call Sean.

  *

  “I don’t understand why people sink perfectly good ships,” Tristan remarked as they headed out toward the site of the Rumney Marsh.

  “Because they can,” Brad said.

  “Because they can help replace natural reef that we’ve destroyed,” Denny said. “A nice new home for fish and other marine life that need it.”

  They moored to an underwater buoy. Although Steven’s knee ached, he made the first dive with Brad and Tristan. The water was crystal clear and perfect for diving. It took a few minutes for the Rumney Marsh to come into view. She was a big ship, almost two hundred feet long. During her days at sea she’d been a research vessel, investigating lightning strikes, but now the entire wreck served as an enormous submerged home for angelfish, tarpon, and a dozen other types of fish.

  The wreck was so deep they couldn’t spend a lot of time on the bottom. Most of it was spent getting the prop wheelchair into position without damaging any marine growth. They ascended as scheduled, took a break, computed time for the next dive, and descended again. The second dive was shorter, thanks to the nitrogen already built up in their blood, and Brad spent most of it taking photos.

  When Brad started to descend below eighty feet, Steven tapped his dive computer meaningfully. Going down farther meant shaving off more minutes.

  Brad looked annoyed behind his mask, but Steven tapped the gauge again and got a reluctant nod.

  “I think that’s my favorite spot yet,” Tristan said while they ate lunch. “We should come back here tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow I want to do the Agana,” Brad replied.

  Steven gave Denny a pointed look.

  Denny said, “We told you. We don’t take anyone there.”

  “It’s because I’m paralyzed, isn’t it?” Brad demanded. His face was turning red. “It’s about the damned wheelchair.”