Southern Comfort - Fern Michaels [46]
The bright orange ball of the sun literally sizzled on the water. Kate couldn’t ever remember the water being this warm in all the years she’d lived in Miami and all the years she’d vacationed in the Keys. Overhead, the sky was cerulean blue, the few clouds marshmallow white. Absolutely beautiful if only it weren’t so hot. With the back of her hand, she swiped at the seawater dripping down her cheeks. God, how she hated the heat.
“We should head back to shore and do our walk down the beach if you’re ready, Sandy. But . . . we put on some clothes. Agreed?”
“You’re no fun, Kate Rush,” Sandy said as she started to tread water. “Hey, look, there’s that parrot.”
“And that means what?” Kate said, as her feet touched down on the burning-hot sand. “Forget the damn parrot and check out the guy in the boat. I’m thinking we should call Jelly and report in. Maybe he can run a check on the boat. From this distance, I can’t see if it has a name on it or not. Might be the guy’s own boat if he’s a local. If it’s a rental, there will be a record.”
“It means the bird is spying on us. Remember it talks. I think you’re right. I’ll call Jelly and see what if anything he wants us to do. You okay with that, boss?” Sandra asked, deferring to Kate’s seniority.
“Go for it. I’m going to change. God, I’m sweating already. Didn’t the weatherman say rain at some point today?” she called over her shoulder, but Sandy was already punching numbers into her cell phone and ignored her.
By the time Kate emerged from behind the dressing screen, Sandy had hung up and was yanking at the straps of her bathing suit. “He’s going to check it out. What are you wearing?”
“Clothes that cover my body. I suggest you do the same thing.” She looked down at the cutoff jeans that had become shorts and a sleeveless tank top in sunny yellow. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail. With her tan, she didn’t need makeup, but she wouldn’t have applied any regardless. She could hardly wait to see what Sandy was going to wear.
“Didn’t you ever hear of enticing men with your body? Men will give up anything when they think . . . never mind. Okay, here I come!” Sandy shouted three minutes later.
Kate gasped. This had to be a first for Sandy, who liked to show off her assets and was up on the latest fashion. Knee-length plaid shorts and a white tank top that showed off her tan. Her hair, too, was pulled back and held in place with a scrunchy. “You happy now? I look like a damn tourist who bought all her vacation wear at Talbots. On sale. From their catalog.”
Kate grinned. She loved to ruffle Sandy’s feathers. “I guess that raises the question, why do you even have an outfit like that?”
“For an occasion such as this,” Sandy replied flippantly. “C’mon, let’s get this show on the road.”
“In a minute. I want to check out that guy on the boat one more time. I want you to go outside, do some calisthenics or something so he’s looking at you. I want to see him with the binoculars and don’t want his attention focused on this building. Talk to the parrot or something but move up the beach toward where the guys are. I want to see if he follows your progress while I check him out.”
“Done,” Sandy said as she walked through the door. Bird greeted her with a resounding, “Put on your big-girl panties. Bang! Bacon! Oh, shit! Panties are purple!”
Sandy burst out laughing. “You, my friend, are a dirty old bird! You need to clean up your vocabulary. Say nice things like, Sandy is beautiful. Kate is a plain Jane. Or, how about this, you lamebrain bird, Sandy is a hot chick? Tell me about that guy down the line. What’s he like? Tell me about the brother. Are they hotties? C’mon, I won’t tell anyone you sang like a canary. Damn, I crack myself up sometimes.”
“Secrets! Oh, boy, secrets! Hot chicks, red-hot