“I heard Maia is planning a hike with Cash,” Huck says.

“That’s nice,” Irene says. “They’re forging a relationship.”

It is nice, Huck agrees. He notices that Irene doesn’t suggest they forge a relationship outside of work, off this boat, and what can Huck conclude but that Irene isn’t interested in him? Somehow, he never considered this. Somehow, he’d let himself believe that her interest in him matched his interest in her.

Was it strange as all get-out that Irene’s husband and Huck’s stepdaughter had been in a secret relationship and had a love child? Hell yes.

Too strange, maybe. Huck should just forget about it. He should be grateful that he and Irene are friends and now coworkers and that they don’t hate each other and aren’t in litigation over God knows what—money or the villa or Maia.

Huck watches Irene as she strolls off the dock carrying her reusable shopping bag filled with snacks.

He scratches his face. Maybe he should shave his beard. Or read some Jane Austen.

The next morning the phone rings, and Huck assumes it’ll be Maia asking to stay with Ayers a little longer. If that’s the case he might see if Irene wants to take a drive out to the East End. He’ll offer to bring Floyd and Baker along if they’re looking for something to do.

He’s making a nuisance of himself; he’s aware of this, but he can’t help it.

It’s not Maia calling, or Ayers. It’s Rupert.

“Huck.”

“Rupert.”

“You been drinking yet today?” Rupert asks.

“No,” Huck says. “Not yet.” His eyes graze his trusty bottle of Flor de Caña up on the shelf. Is he going to need it? Or is Rupert about to invite him to meet for lunch at Miss Lucy’s—an invitation Huck just might take him up on?

“You remember talking the other day about Paulette Vickers?”

“Yes,” Huck says warily. The Flor de Caña, then. He brings the bottle down to the counter.

“She and her husband were arrested over on St. Croix. You know how Doug Vickers has a sister there? FBI, two, three cars, pull into Wilma Vickers’s driveway in Frederiksted and Paulette and Doug get led away in handcuffs.”

“This reliable?” Huck asks.

“Sadie went to school with Wilma,” Rupert says. “Wilma called Sadie herself. She has the little boy. Parents went to jail.”

“Did they say why?” Huck asks. “What were they charged with?”

“Conspiracy to commit fraud, Wilma said. Real estate fraud. Financial fraud.” Rupert pauses. “The guy they were in business with, and the Invisible Man, too, were doing laundry.”

“Laundry?” Huck says.

“They were cleaning money,” Rupert says. “Head honcho had a yacht, Bluebeard, and Wilma told Sadie that she knows for certain that boat used to pull into Cruz Bay with a hold full of cash. From guerrilla groups in Nicaragua, Wilma said. And the Marxists in Cuba and Argentinean soccer stars trying to avoid taxes and God knows who else. And Paulette and Douglas Vickers were helping them.”

When Huck hangs up with Rupert, he calls Agent Vasco but is shuttled immediately to her voicemail. It’s Saturday, so maybe she’s off duty—but who is he kidding; she’s probably waist-deep in the Vickers morass.

Huck has known the Vickerses for twenty years—not well, he’s never been invited to their home, never done any direct business with them, but he knows them. Croft must have made them an offer they couldn’t refuse; they must have thought they would never get caught. Huck understands what it’s like to live here as a local person and see the big boats roll in and watch the enormous villas go up and wonder, Why them and not me? Maybe Paulette let herself get into a compromising spot with her family’s business; God knows, real estate is risky everywhere. Huck could call some of LeeAnn’s friends—Dearie and Helen come to mind—and ask what they’ve heard. But it’s possible that what they heard came from Sadie via Wilma as well, and it’s possible that Dearie and Helen haven’t heard a thing but will start jabbering as soon as they realize it’s a topic of interest. The Vickerses got mixed up with Russell Steele and his boss, Todd Croft, and they were helping to launder the money.

Huck’s next instinct is to call Irene. He’s been looking for a reason and now he has one. Paulette and Doug Vickers arrested on St. Croix. That much he could share. The rest of it—the laundering and Bluebeard—that all sounds suspiciously like gossip. Still, Huck feels the seed of fear that has been in his gut since Rosie died start to grow. Russ was involved in illegal and dangerous business dealings. Guerrillas in Nicaragua?

What Huck wants to know is if he or Maia—or Irene—will somehow be implicated in a crime.

We didn’t know anything, Huck thinks. Surely the FBI realizes this. Huck has done nothing wrong, Maia has done nothing wrong, and Irene has done nothing wrong. They’re innocent—but does that mean they’re safe?

Getting Paulette and Doug Vickers can’t possibly be the FBI’s endgame, Huck thinks. They want to find Todd Croft. And Paulette will sing—of this, Huck is certain. She has her child to think about.

From this perspective, maybe Irene would be intrigued by the news, possibly even happy to hear it. They’re tracking down answers. What were Croft and Russell Steele doing? Where was all that money coming from?

No, it will not make Irene happy, Huck decides. It will make her agitated, especially since all they can do until they get official word from Agent Vasco is speculate. And so Huck decides not to tell Irene until he’s had a conversation with Agent Vasco.

Huck sets the Flor de Caña back up on the shelf. He heads out onto the deck to have a cigarette. He imagines Irene lying on the beach in Little Cinnamon, thinking about little Elton Petrushki or about how cold it is back in Iowa City or about what she’s going to make for dinner. But she will not be thinking about Paulette Vickers sitting in an interrogation room and giving the FBI who knows what kind of information about her husband. Huck’s silence is a gift. Irene is sure to find out at some point; hell, maybe she’ll find out tomorrow. But at least she has today in peace. At least she has right now.

Baker

Baker is so excited after their meeting and tour at the Gifft Hill School that he texts Anna from the parking lot.

Found a school for F. They ran assessments, he can start kindergarten now. V. advanced, they said. Happy to have him and he loved it.

“Bye!” Maia calls out. She’s staying at the school to hang out with friends and then someone’s mother is taking them to town.

“Thank you, Maia!” Baker says.

“Thank you, Maia!” Floyd says, waving like a maniac. Then he turns to Baker. “Daddy, how do we know Maia?”

“Oh,” Baker says. Floyd is probably confused because Maia introduced Floyd to the head teacher, Miss Phaedra, as her “sort of nephew,” a phrase that elicited an expression of surprise and suspicion from Miss Phaedra. Apparently, the phrase didn’t get past Floyd either. Baker was glad Maia threw the sort of in there because it could be explained any number of ways; they wouldn’t have to tell Miss Phaedra that Floyd is, in fact, Maia’s actual nephew, the son of Maia’s brother Baker.