Southern Comfort - Fern Michaels [57]
“Warmth.”
“In this heat? I’d think that would be the last thing we’d have to concern ourselves with.”
“Then you know what to do?” Tick asked as he attached equipment to various parts of his body.
“You haven’t changed one bit, ass face. I won’t think. That’s what you wanted to hear isn’t it?”
“I see the ponies didn’t kick all the horse sense out of you. This is good. Now shut up. And yeah, that’s what I wanted to hear. Despite the warm weather, once we’re in the water, you’d be amazed at how fast your body temperature drops.”
“Looks like I’m not going to find out either. Let’s get out of here before I choke to death in this damned thing,” Pete said.
“Deep water! Deep water!” Bird croaked from his perch.
“Is he coming?” Pete asked, pointing at Bird.
“He’s my right-hand bird. Of course he’s coming.” Tick directed his attention to Bird, perched on the back of the kitchen chair. “Go to that thing, Bird! See what you can find. We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
Pete shook his head. “I never thought I would live to see the day that you, Mr. Police Officer, best-selling author, would be talking to a damn parrot. What’s worse, you expect him, or her, whatever, to understand you. Nope, I never thought I’d see the day.”
Tick turned off the living-room lights on their way out. He left the front-porch light on just in case Pete would need it as a guide if he had to return to make a phone call, though Tick hoped that wouldn’t be necessary. He knew that he could feel his way back to the house if push came to shove.
“Get the girls! Get the girls!” Bird squawked.
“See? He knows what’s expected of him before he’s even asked. Unlike some people I know, right, Bird?”
“Bullshit! Bullshit!”
Both Tick and Pete doubled over with laughter.
“Bird, it’s time to go to that place at the tip of the island. Listen up and wait for us when you see us getting out of the water. You got that?” Tick asked seriously though his grin was as wide as the ocean.
“Outta here, outta here!” With a flutter of wings, Bird flew off the back of the chair and out the front door before either Tick or Pete could say another word.
Carefully, they inched down the steps. Tick was the first to speak. “I’ve never heard Bird say that before. I swear he’s more intelligent than some of the residents here on the island. I wonder who trained him. And why?”
“Unless Bird tells you himself, or herself, I guess you’ll never know. I have to admit, I’m surprised that he or she actually understands and follows orders. Maybe it’s time to put Bird on the road. Make some big bucks off a show like that,” Pete said thoughtfully.
“Don’t make plans for my pet. He’s not going anywhere except where I tell him to go,” Tick snarled to his brother’s back.
Pete flipped him the bird.
Waddling like two penguins in their wet suits, with their diving gear sticking out every which way, Tick and Pete looked like sea creatures from a bad B-rated 1950s movie as they entered the water.
“We’ll walk out about fifty feet, then if the water’s deep enough, we’ll swim out another hundred yards, give or take a few. From there we’ll head east, which will put us directly in front of that thing. Remember, once we’re onshore, no talking. Stay behind me, and don’t do anything unless I tell you. Just in case you don’t know this, sound carries over water.”
Exasperated, Pete shook his head. “Okay, Dad. I think I’m old enough to follow a few simple instructions.”
“Old enough, yes. Smart enough, I’m not so sure,” Tick razzed.
“Hey, you better watch your mouth.”
“Just kidding, bro, just kidding.”
Without another word between them, the two men waded into the water until it was waist deep. Securing their snorkels and masks, they swam away from shore, heading into unknown territory.
Chapter 12
Wearing the pink and yellow shirt patterned with bright green parrots and palm trees, his new distressed shorts, and flip-flops, Tyler knew no one would recognize