Scorpion Reef Read Free Page B

hush.
    She unlocked the trunk and I took my gear out. “I have a key to the houseboat,” she said. “You can change in there.”
    It was a lot larger than I had expected, and looked as if it must have four or five rooms. It was moored broadside to the pier which ran along parallel to and just off the bank under the overhanging limbs of the trees. A narrow gangplank ran from the bank out to the pier, and another shorter one onto the deck of the scow.
    She led the way, disturbingly out of place in this wilderness with her smooth blond head and smart grooming, the slim spikes of her heels tapping against the planks. I noticed the pier ran on around the end of the scow at right angles and out into the lake.
    “I’ll take the gear on out there,” I said. “I’d like to have a look at it.”
    She came with me. We rounded the corner of the houseboat and I could see the whole arm of the lake. This section of the pier ran out into it about thirty feet, with two skiffs tied up at the end. They were about half full of water, and there were no oars in them. I put down the aqualung and mask and looked around.
    The lake was about a hundred yards wide, glassy and shining in the sun between its walls of trees, and some two hundred yards ahead it turned around a point.
    “The duckblind is just around that point, on the left,” she said.
    I looked at it appraisingly. “And he doesn’t have any idea at all where the gun fell out?”
    She shook her head. “No. It could have been anywhere between here and the point.”
    It still sounded odd, but I merely shrugged. “All right. I might as well get started.”
    She started to turn, and then froze. She was listening to something. Then I heard it, very faintly, over the immense hush all around. It was a car, somewhere a long way off. Her face grew very still and I could see the color go out of it. The sound of the car faded away; I couldn’t tell whether it had stopped somewhere or gone on.
    We were standing very close together on the end of the pier. Our eyes met. “What’s the gag?” I asked roughly.
    “Gag?”
    “You’ve been looking for a car, or listening for one, ever since you picked me up. Is somebody following you?”
    She didn’t answer for a moment. Then she said, “I hope not.”
    “Your husband?”
    Her face jerked up toward mine and I could see the ruffling of an Irish temper in the eyes. “My husband? And why would my husband be following me, Mr. Manning?”
    I was a mile off base, and realized it. “I’m sorry,” I said. It had been a stupid thing to say, and I wondered what there was about her that made me so uncomfortable and ready to jump down her throat at the slightest excuse. She wasn’t bothering me, was she? The hell she wasn’t bothering me.
    She smiled, a little shakily, and I knew she was still scared. “It’s all right,” she said. “You really didn’t mean it, anyway. You’re very nice, you know.”
    “Maybe we’d better get started looking for that shotgun,” I said.
    “Would it help if I went, too, in one of the boats?” she asked. “I’d like to watch. And I thought perhaps, if you had something to guide you—”
    I looked around. It would help, all right. The water was fairly clear and the visibility should be pretty good with the sun directly overhead, but still I’d have to come to the surface every few yards to get my bearings.
    “Sure,” I said. “But you can’t go out in a skiff the way you’re dressed. I can bail one out, but it’d still be dirty and wet.”
    “I think I’ve got an old swimsuit in the houseboat. I could change into that.”
    “All right,” I said. We went back around to the gangplank and walked aboard. She unlocked the door. It led into a big living-room which was well-furnished and even had a fireplace. There was a rug on the floor, a sofa, some overstuffed chairs, a bookcase, and two or three framed pictures along the walls. The windows were closed and curtained. It was in the center of the