White Cargo Read Free Page A

to be tough if nobody spoke English.
    “No, señor,” the soldier said, shrugging.
    Over the man’s shoulder, Cat saw somebody less Latin-looking coming toward them.
    “American?” the fellow asked.
    Cat looked at him hopefully. Small, deeply tanned, tousled sun-bleached hair, a little on the long side—faded cutoff jeans, worn Topsiders, and a tennis shirt that had seen better days. Somewhere in his twenties. Cat knew in a moment he had found his man. The kid had Boat Bum written all over him. “Sure am,” Cat smiled.
    “Where from?”
    “Atlanta.”
    The kid stuck out his hand. “My name’s Denny. San Diego.”
    Cat took the hand; it was rough and hard. The boy had hauled a few ropes in his time. “Cat Catledge, Denny. Glad to meet you. You don’t know how glad, in fact. My Spanish is nonexistent. Could you say to the soldier, here, that I just want to get my alternator fixed, then shove off?”
    Denny spoke in rapid Spanish to the soldier, whoreplied more briefly. “He says you’ll have to come to the port captain’s office and check in, then you’ll have to clear customs, but the port captain and the customs officer are both at lunch, so it might be awhile before you’re legal.”
    Jinx joined them. She had slipped a T-shirt over the bikini, but it wasn’t long enough. Her creamy buns protruded from the bottom. “What’s happening, Cat?”
    Cat raised a hand to quiet her. “Just getting some information from our friend, the soldier, here. This is Denny, he’s an American.”
    “Hi, Denny, I’m Jinx.” She fixed him with a dazzling smile.
    Denny looked vaguely stunned. It wasn’t the first time Cat had seen this sort of reaction to Jinx. The young man looked around him. “Listen, you’re just here to fix your alternator, right?”
    “Right,” Cat replied.
    “Well, if you don’t want to hang around any longer than that takes, I can probably fix it with this guy for a few bucks, and you can avoid the formalities.”
    “How much?”
    “Ten bucks American, maybe twenty.”
    “You’re on, Denny,” he said to the kid.
    Denny spoke to the soldier again and got a sly look and a nod. “Give him ten,” he said to Cat.
    Jinx spoke up. “Cat, are you bribing somebody? You want to get us all arrested?”
    “Jinx, clam up,” Cat said. “We’re going to get out of here as quickly as possible.”
    Cat handed the money to the soldier, who turned away without another word.
    “Thanks,” Cat said to the kid. “I really do just want toget our repairs done. I’m off a Swan 43 back there, name of Catbird. You know anybody around here can lay hands on a sick alternator?”
    “Sure,” the boy replied. “There’s a guy up in the town. Let’s pull it off and I’ll run it up there for you. You’ll have to stay inside the fenced compound here, unless you want to start messing with customs.”
    “You work here?” Cat asked as they climbed down the ladder to the yacht.
    Denny grinned, exposing a set of good teeth. “Nobody works much around here,” he replied. “I work the sport boats, hire out when somebody hauls a boat, clean a bottom now and then.” They were walking toward the boat, Jinx ahead of them. Denny couldn’t take his eyes off her. Cat felt almost sorry for him.
    They reached the boat, and Katie stuck her head through the hatch. “Katie, this is Denny; he’s going to give us a hand with the alternator. Denny, this is my wife, Katie.”
    “Hello, Denny,” Katie said.
    “Hi, Mrs. Catledge,” Denny said, shooting her an infectious grin. Katie waved and went back below.
    They climbed aboard, and Cat led the way down the companionway. He lifted the ladder and unlatched the engine cover.
    “Beautiful boat,” Denny said, admiringly, looking around the saloon. “I haven’t seen a Swan around here for a long time. She looks new.”
    “Brand-new, nearly,” Cat replied. “We shook her down from Lauderdale to Antigua, now we’re headed for the Canal and the South Pacific.