Robert B. Parker’s Someone to Watch Over Me

59

We stayed on Bonnet’s Cut until late the next afternoon. Hawk helped Godfrey with his wounds and Godfrey helped explain the situation with his friends at the Bahamian police. There were kidnapped girls, dead men, and Poppy Palmer crying foul. The police took her anyway and I was relieved I didn’t have to fit her in the overhead bin on the flight home. Her fate now in the hands of the Feds.

Three days and many phone calls, interviews, and meetings with the American consulate later, Hawk and I were back on Cat Island. I’d made arrangements for Carly to fly to Miami to both meet her sister and speak with the Feds. Another American girl, a sixteen-year-old from West Palm, was also headed home, while two teenage Cuban girls sought asylum in the Bahamas.

That morning, we decided to take a run up Como Hill, the tallest peak on the islands. We’d been running for a few miles already when Hawk pointed out our goal, and we dashed up the rocky path.

At the top of the hill was a medieval-style monastery fashioned of stone. Four buildings, a place of worship, a tall turret, a cookhouse, and a small room where the priest slept. It was tranquil and meditative. You could hear the click and whir of insects in the scrub around us. High above, we could see every corner of Cat Island.

I caught my breath. Hawk, hands on top of his head, studied my face.

“Damn,” he said. “She got you good.”

I touched the gouges from Poppy Palmer.

“Could’ve been worse.”

“Captain Rex,” Hawk said.

“I guess what happened between him and Godfrey is now between the devil and the deep blue sea.”

“Better not ask.”

I walked up the stone steps and peered into the place of worship. I tried to picture this monk priest hauling every stone up the hill as an act of humility and faith. A salty wind blew in from the open windows, fluttering the pages of a water-logged guest book.

“I believe I just might stay awhile,” Hawk said.

Hawk pointed beyond a wooden cross and a tomb where the priest was buried to a spot along the west coast of the island.

“That’s my beach,” he said. “Maybe start building while I’m here.”

“I built that cabin in Maine,” I said. “Very therapeutic.”

“Fuck that,” Hawk said, grinning. “Getting me the best contractor on the island.”

“Seems like you have your hands full,” I said. “With Karena.”

“Been thinking about sending a ticket to Grace Bennett,” Hawk said. “Lots here to paint.”

“Landscape?” I said. “Or portrait?”

“How much would you pay for a painting of Black Moses?”

“At least five bucks,” I said.

I studied the rocky terrain through the scrub brush and scraggly trees. We’d take the road back to the beach and then head north to the cottage. There was time for a few beers, maybe some conch fritters, and then the flight back to Boston. I looked forward to seeing Susan and Pearl and explaining to Mattie about how extradition for Poppy might work.

“The Gray Man,” Hawk said. “Damn.”

“Getting that head through customs will be tricky,” I said.

“Man like Ruger don’t go through customs.”

“I would’ve preferred seeing Steiner in court.”

“Yeah?” Hawk said. “Not me. I liked to see what was left of him bleeding out on that nice rug.”

“Glad we have Rita,” I said. “Getting money for his victims might take years.”

“And then some,” Hawk said. “Man like Steiner knows every nook and cranny to hide his cash.”

“Arrogance,” I said. “All he had to do was hand over that backpack.”

“Folks like that don’t believe in the rules,” Hawk said. “You white and have money and you can do whatever you want.”

“What if you’re black with money?”

“Don’t always work like that.”

I nodded. Hawk motioned down to the steep rocky path. We bumped fists.

“Race you back,” Hawk said.

The hot wind swept across the stones and broken rocks by the monastery, whispering through the cracks and holes, jostling an old bell inside.

“With all you did,” I said. “I might even let you win.”

“Haw,” Hawk said. “Never have. Never will.”

“Bottle of Iron Horse?” I said.

“Two bottles of Iron Horse,” he said.

Without a word, I sped down the hill, Hawk catching up fast. The path rocky and steep down to the beach road. Out of respect, I didn’t let up in the least.