The Caribbean Cruise Caper Read Free Page A

permission.
    Frank nudged him. “Ground control to Major Joe,” he said. “Come in, please.”
    Joe indicated the sloop. “What do you say we swap Sleuth for something along those lines?” Sleuth was the name of the Hardys’ little outboard runabout.
    â€œGreat idea,” Frank said with a grin. “We could probably swing it if we threw in three or four hundred thousand bucks on the side.”
    Cesar joined them. “Can you believe this place?” he said. “There must be millions and millions of dollars’ worth of boats out there . . . and this is just one island. Talk about loaded!”
    â€œSuccessful people are always the targets of envy and jealousy,” Elizabeth remarked from a few feet away. She did not look at anyone as she said it, but Joe saw the color rise in Cesar’s cheeks. Cesar pressed his lips together as if holding back a retort.
    A taxi pulled up next to the van. The woman who got out looked as if she had stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine’s resort issue. She went over to David and pushed her designer sunglasses up on her forehead.
    â€œI was so determined to be here to greet you,” she said. “Am I hopelessly late? Have you been waiting for me forever?”
    David shook his head. “We just arrived,” he said. “Gang, I’d like you to meet our hostess on this voyage, the editor of Teenway, Bettina Dunn.”
    He went around the circle, introducing everyone. Bettina had been very well briefed. She seemed to recognize each person and know a little something personal about him or her.
    When David came to Joe and said his name, Bettina smiled. “Ah yes—one of the celebrated Hardy brothers. I’ve met your father. I can see the resemblance. He must be very proud of you. And, of course, this is your brother and partner, Frank.”
    Joe could not help feeling a warm glow.
    When the introductions were finished, Bettina said, “We’ll have a more formal welcome after we board the Colombe d’Or. For now, I’ll just say how pleased all of us at Teenway are that you could takepart in this thrilling and challenging—and rewarding—contest.”
    Everybody clapped.
    One of the staff started piling the group’s luggage on a wheelbarrow. David kept a tight grip on his computer case.
    Bettina led the way into the yacht club. Just inside the door, Joe noticed her stop to say hello to a white-haired man in white slacks and a blue blazer. The man turned away, pretending not to hear her. Bettina reddened and kept walking.
    David was a couple of steps ahead. Joe caught up to him. In a low voice, he asked, “You see the elderly man in the blazer? Do you know who he is?”
    David raised an eyebrow. “You caught that little exchange, did you? That is Walter Mares. He founded Teenway. A few years ago he was forced into retirement after a corporate takeover.”
    â€œAnd Bettina?” Joe asked. “What was her part in the story?”
    â€œShe was his discovery,” David explained. “His crown princess, I guess you’d say. But when he was kicked out, she stayed on and rose to the top. He took it pretty hard. I doubt if they’ve spoken to each other since. I hear he’s retired now and living down here full-time.”
    â€œAre you going to put them in one of your plays?” Joe asked as they stepped onto the veranda and Frank joined them.
    David laughed. “I wish I could!”
    Frank gave Joe a questioning look. “I’ll fill you in later,” Joe said.
    Evan came running up. “Daddy? Which one is our boat?”
    Good question, thought Joe. At least three dozen big motor cruisers and ocean sailers were berthed in the yacht club marina, gleaming in the tropical sunlight.
    â€œThat one, son,” David said. He pointed toward the end of the finger pier. “The one with the blue smokestack. That’s the Colombe