Page 38 of Life, Love and the Pursuit of Happiness

“That, too.”

“Cool,” Gus said.

“What foreign language is that?” Delilah asked.

Merrill grinned. “Computerese.”

“Hey, don’t feel bad,” Gus said. “I don’t understand half of what he says, either.”

“WAP is a wireless application protocol. Then there is Global Oceanographic Data Archaeology Rescue, and Grid Analysis and Display System,” Merrill explained.

“That makes it perfectly clear,” Delilah said.

Merrill chucked her under the chin for her sarcasm. “Are you saying I’m a geek?”

“Only in a good way.”

“Hey, Merrill,” Charlie called from the wheelhouse. “I have to go pee. You wanna spot me on these monitors?”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Merrill agreed, and motioned for Delilah to follow him. “C’mon. I want to show you something.”

“Do you want to show me, too?” Gus asked, with fake sincerity.

“Later,” Merrill said. “Check the fishing lines first. See if we have any big-ass fish hooked for dinner.”

“Sure. I saw a school of red drum earlier today. If we’re lucky . . .” Gus went off to the other side of the boat where a half dozen rods were locked in place along the rail.

“Hey, I’m serving Mexican tonight,” Delilah protested.

“You never heard of fish tacos?” Merrill said.

“You get me a big fish, and I’ll cook it tomorrow, my way.”

“Whatever you say, De-li-lah.” He flashed her a mischievous smile which said, loud and clear, that he would be calling the shots, not her. And not just about some fish.

Wearing a well-worn U.S. Navy gray T-shirt with tan cargo shorts, sockless black athletic shoes, and a Yankees baseball cap, he should have looked like a college kid, but instead he was all muscle-bound man comfortable in his own suntanned skin. The smile was almost her undoing.

If it wouldn’t have appeared obvious, Delilah would have fanned herself.

“I’m gonna take a break while I’m down below, if you don’t mind,” Charlie said to Merrill as she passed through the doorway.

“No problem,” he replied. “By the way, Harry says some guy with a Southern accent has been calling the office for you.”

Charlie swore under her breath.

“He refers to you as Charlotte, not Charlie, if that gives you a clue.”

“Oh, I know ’zactly who it is. That damn Beauregard Butler, who thinks he’s gonna be mah Rhett and rescue me. A Southern knight in shining souped-up truck! Or else Jefferson Lee Landry. Yep, it’s probably JL. That boy has been a gnat on mah backside since we were wadin’ in the bayou in our diapers catchin’ mudbugs. Some men never give up.” On those words, she stomped off.

Delilah and Merrill exchanged looks and then laughed.

At least no one had called for Delilah, she thought with a sigh of relief. Not, for example, her grandmother, or her parole officer, or Davie, God forbid, sending yet another plea that she come visit him in New Jersey State Prison. Small blessings!

Merrill indicated that Delilah should sit on the high stool before a series of monitors. He stood behind her and explained what they were looking at. There were the usual things you would expect on a boat this size, stuff like you see on TV shows like Deadliest Catch, depth finders and sonar scanners and such. But, in retrofitting this ship for salvaging, a bunch of high-tech computer equipment had been added to the point that the wheelhouse resembled some kind of NASA operation.

Delilah watched, fascinated, while Merrill explained patiently what was happening on the various screens, including the murky one that showed two divers moving about on the ocean bottom. Several times, Adam or Bonita, it was hard to tell which was which, picked up an item and put it in one of the bags attached to their belts. Various-sized fish and slithery snake-like animals, probably eels, swam by, mostly ignoring the humans in their stomping ground.

The whole time, Merrill had a hand placed on her back, between her shoulder blades. He probably didn’t realize it. He might have done the same thing if anyone was sitting here. But she was aware of the simple gesture. The heat of his palm, like a brand. An erotic brand proclaiming his intentions toward her. Possession.