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CHAPTER 75
Negril, Jamaica Friday, October 22, 2021
AVERY FELT THE THICK HUMIDITY OF THE CARIBBEAN AS SOON AS SHE stepped onto the tarmac. Her flight was six hours, direct from Los Angeles into Montego Bay. She made it through customs and wheeled her suitcase outside. The airport was busy with tourists waiting in long lines to pour onto buses and vans that would deliver them to the island’s beaches, where they would drink rum and try hard to bronze their pale skin.
Avery walked out of the terminal and heard a horn beep twice. She made her way through the crowd and saw Walt standing in the crook of the open driver’s side door and waving to her over the roof of the Land Cruiser. It was the same vehicle, Avery knew, that her brother drove three months earlier when he first arrived in Jamaica. Avery hustled over and climbed into the passenger’s seat while Walt threw her bag in the trunk.
“How was your flight?” he asked as he pulled out of the terminal.
“Long. How is he?”
“Settled and enjoying island life. I may or may not have turned him on to single batch Jamaican rum.”
Avery smiled.
“He’s really anxious to see you.”
“Did the boat get here?”
“Yesterday, right on schedule. Christopher wanted to inspect it, but I told him we had to wait for you.”
“How did it look?”
“The boat? Great, but I don’t know anything about boats.”
“It’s a beautiful boat,” Avery said, remembering the day in June when she and Connie Clarkson had taken it for a sail through Green Bay. That morning’s sail had been a final inspection during which Avery made sure the vessel could do what it needed to.
“I’ll take your word for it,” Walt said.
Then, it was quiet for a long time as Walt navigated out of the airport and onto the main highway that would take them to Negril. He finally spoke after thirty minutes.
“I missed you,” he said.
Avery looked over at him. “I still think you’re an asshole.”
“No argument from me on that front. Just know that I’m working really hard on changing that.”
A minute of silence passed before Avery spoke.
“I missed you, too.”
“I’ll take that,” Walt said, keeping his eyes on the road. “I’ll take that any day of the week.”
Walt reached over and took her hand. She didn’t resist.
* * *
Most of the drive to Negril was on the main road, which was populated with tour buses, vans, and motorcycles that slithered in and out of traffic. The ocean was to Avery’s right. The water was crystal clear nearer to shore, offering a glimpse of coral deep beneath its surface. Farther from land the water turned a rich cobalt. Palm trees were everywhere. In the city of Negril they exited the main road and headed toward the interior of the island—away from the tour buses and far from the ocean and beaches. The roads on this leg of the journey were narrow and shaded by heavy foliage. In some spots the road was so slight that Walt had to pull to the side to allow oncoming traffic to pass.
The further into the rain forest Walt drove, the more excited she became. She didn’t speak for the last thirty minutes of the trip. All Avery wanted was to get there and see him.
“Five more minutes,” Walt said.
Those minutes felt like hours until Walt finally slowed the car, made a right turn, and pulled up the driveway of a well-kept blue house tucked into a nook of mangroves and palm trees. The closest neighbor was two acres away and very much out of sight. This had been the perfect place for Christopher to stay while Avery finished the last of her plans. Walt had promised that it would be.
“Thank you,” she said.
Walt nodded, and then pointed at the house. “Get in there.”
