Down Among the Dead Men

29

Fifteen minutes after Jen left, Beth started to worry.

What was taking her so long?

Beth supposed the restroom could have been occupied and that Jen had had to wait her turn. If it was like the restrooms in the states, there might even be a line. A long one. But fifteen minutes seemed a bit much.

Beth had already finished her lunch-not that she’d eaten a whole lot-and had watched as the waitress cleared their dishes away.

About five minutes in, she noticed some of the people from their ship wandering by across the street. First, the gray-haired man and his wife, the ones who had been the direct recipients of Jen’s boob flash. Then later, the young newlywed couple, who had managed to weather the storm and were smiling happily, walking hand in hand.

Pulling out her wallet, Beth dropped some bills on the table, leaving a generous tip. She was about to rise when she heard a silky Hispanic voice behind her.

“Dining alone?”

She tensed at the sound of it. Turned and saw Rafael Santiago approaching, looking much less formal today in jeans and a long-sleeved off-white shirt. The effect was dazzling. He was even more handsome in daylight, and her complete disgust with him didn’t diminish that fact.

“Not alone,” she said, “and I’d appreciate it if you’d just keep on walking.”

He ignored the request, stopping in front of her table. “Why so hostile, Beth?”

“I think you know.”

“Jennifer told us how protective you are. That’s quite an admirable trait.”

“Did I ask for your opinion?”

“No,” he said. “No, you didn’t. And I have a terrible habit of offering them unsolicited. But Marta and I got to know Jennifer quite well last night and-”

“Don’t say another word.”

Unwanted images flitted through Beth’s brain again, and as she tried to shut them out she silently cursed Rafael’s very existence.

“You need to unburden yourself of this anger, Beth. I understand how someone such as you might have trouble accepting that Marta and I are free spirits, but we mean no harm.”

“Free spirits? Is that what you call what I saw in the bar last night?”

“What you saw was harmless.”

Beth scoffed. “You practically had your tongue down your sister’s throat.”

“And your thinking is clouded by a false sense of morality. We come from a family that doesn’t believe in hiding our affection for one another.”

“Oh, Christ. There are more of you?”

He gestured at their surroundings. “Everywhere you look.”

Beth frowned. “What the hell does that mean?”

Rafael shook his head. “Nothing you would understand. There are those who seek enlightenment and those who resist. When we first met last night, I thought you might be a seeker, but Marta is much more intuitive than I. She saw it the moment she met you, and I know now that she was right.”

“About what?”

“About the wall you’ve built. The one you’ve spent a lifetime building.”

“So let me get this straight,” Beth said. “She’s a witch and a clinical psychologist? How fascinating.”

He smiled. “She is a child of La Santisima. As we all are.”

Beth just stared at him. La Santisima? She had no idea what this meant, and didn’t really want to know. She was tired of this pretty boy and his unrepentant arrogance.

“I have five simple words for you,” she said. “‘Stay away from my sister.’”

His smile widened. “Protective to the last.” His gaze shifted to her left hand. “I like the ring.”

Then he turned and headed down the sidewalk.

Beth glanced at the tiny hooded skull on her finger, and when she looked up again, Rafael was gone, nowhere to be seen.

Good riddance to bad rubbish, she thought, hoping she could avoid running into him on board ship.

Fortunately, it was a big place.

Offering up one last silent curse, she turned her attention to the leather-goods shop.

Where the hell was Jen?