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Alex gave an uncomfortable roll of his left shoulder. “Gordon almost had to close up shop because of it. People shunned this place for a long time. The whole situation was just a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, so I try to throw him some business.”
Jack wasn’t sure he’d be as forgiving, but he just nodded.
Gordon came back with Alex’s card, and he signed the slip before handing it back to the shop owner. “Thanks, man,” Gordon said. “You need a hand loading them?”
Alex grinned and hooked a thumb at Jack. “Nah. This time, I actually did bring extra muscle with me.” Then his smile faded. “And I’m a lot more prepared these days too.”
The two men quickly loaded the tanks into the back of Alex’s car, and he drove to a bar a few blocks away. Jack had never been there before. Housed in a red brick building, most guests sat on an outdoor patio to enjoy the evening. The sky was still holding onto daylight as they sat on two stools at an elevated table, a nearby tiki torch flickering.
After their Leatherbacks arrived, Jack held his up. “Here’s to making it out of Emerald Isle Scuba in one piece.”
Alex laughed, shaking his head. “I’m not too worried about lightning striking twice, so let’s change the subject. The new membrane system is being installed next week. Once it’s inspected and ready to go, I plan to expand the dive operation.”
“Nitrox will be good. I certainly prefer it.”
“We’re planning an afternoon trip just about every day, and three-tank full-day trips once or twice a week. You want more hours?”
That was music to Jack’s ears. “Definitely.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that. April told me the other day that she’s working more at her other job and to call you first when I need someone.”
Thank you, April! He couldn’t imagine why she would prefer her other gig, but to each her own. “I’d prefer it if Half Moon Bay was my primary job, and I just filled in for Mark once in a while.”
Alex grinned before taking a drink. “Don’t tell me that! Mark’s the one who referred you to me, and now I’m poaching you. How long have you been a divemaster?”
“I’ve been doing it full time for about a year, but I got my license in Galveston three years ago. After I got divorced, it seemed like a good time to make it my full-time occupation, so I moved to the sunny Caribbean.”
Jack was smiling, but Alex watched him steadily. “No kids, I take it?”
“No. I wouldn’t have minded, but my wife... wasn’t interested.” Jack had the distinct impression he was being evaluated.
“I can imagine Sara keeps you on your toes.”
“She’s not dull, that’s for sure.” He stared back at Alex. “I think she’s pretty terrific, boss.”
“Good. Because she’s family. She and I don’t always see eye to eye, but the last thing I want is for her to get hurt. I’m glad you’re not the kind of man who would do that.”
And that’s about as clear a warning as you could ask for, Jack.
He held Alex’s gaze. Backing down now would be a mistake, and this wasn’t a man to show weakness to. “No. I’m not.”
Alex nodded and tipped his beer up. He froze with it halfway to his mouth, tracking something with his eyes. Curious, Jack turned on his stool. The two men who had caused the trouble at the Half Moon Bay bar were talking to each other as they moved across the patio. Pirate Guy was wearing a Tampa Bay Buccaneers jersey, keeping with the pirate theme, and his mullet was as craptastic as before. His large friend still sported the big hoop earring. They walked past the hostess station and continued out of sight.
Jack turned back. “Weren’t they the two assholes we almost mixed it up with?”
Alex’s mouth was set in a grim line as he swept his gaze around the restaurant. His eyes turned to ice as he stilled, staring into the far corner of the restaurant behind Jack. “Yes. And I just noticed what table they left.”
Jack craned over his shoulder. A tanned man with brown, slicked-back hair was tucked into the far corner table. Aviator sunglasses were hinged over the breast pocket of an expensive button-down shirt. He sipped a glass of white wine, swinging one crossed leg casually back and forth.
Jack turned back. “Friend of yours?”
Alex snorted, his eyes burning as he stared at the man. “More like asshole-of-the-year candidate. I wouldn’t be surprised if those two are his local muscle.” He dug a twenty out of his pocket, laid it on the table, and stood, a grim smile forming. “I think I’m in the mood to say hello.”
Jack wasn’t about to miss this, so he followed as Alex made his way across the patio. The seated man had been looking the other way when the former SEAL stopped in front of the table, Jack at his side. Turning back and seeing Alex, he widened his eyes for a moment, but recovered quickly, a smooth smile crossing his face as he lifted his wine glass. “Well, if it’s not Alex Monroe. Such a tiny island, isn’t it?”
“You were in such a hurry when you left, I hoped you were sailing away for good, Wayne.”
The man remained seated, relaxing in his chair. “Yes, I’m sure you were. But St. Croix is such an up-and-coming place. So many opportunities to explore.”
