Donovans 01 - Amber Beach

for anyone in particular?”
    “Snake Eyes.”
    Honor lifted the binoculars and began looking. After a few minutes she made a soft sound, leaned forward, and stared through the binoculars.
    “What is it?” Jake asked.
    “It’s gone. The boat. I can’t find it anywhere.”
    “Get up here in the pilot seat.”
    Without a word she jumped to her feet and shifted seats. Only then did she look at Jake in reluctant admiration. “What a tone. Were you a drill sergeant in the navy?”
    “They don’t have them. Hang on. This won’t be a smooth ride.”
    “What are you going to do?”
    “Get close enough for a look.”

8
    T HE SOUND OF the SeaSport’s engine deepened and expanded like the dawn as Jake brought up the throttle. The boat rose up on plane, speeding across the indigo sea. A combination of wind and tide chopped up the surface of the water. Every few seconds, sheets of spray lifted on either side of the bow.
    “You see him yet?” Jake asked.
    “No.”
    “You see any wakes?”
    “We’re splashing so much ourselves, I can’t be sure.”
    He nudged up the throttle some more.
    “What about those logs you mentioned?” Honor asked through clenched teeth.
    “It’s a big ocean.”
    As the Tomorrow shot over the top of a small wind wave, he chopped back on the throttle just enough to soften the landing. Honor made a startled sound and braced herself against the dashboard when he brought the speed up again. Spray burst over the bow. He flicked on the three wipers long enough to clear the windows and trimmed the bow down. The ride became less rough.
    When they came out of the lee of an island, the water turned more choppy. The ride went from occasionally bouncy to rough. He kept the revs high and readjusted the trim so that the chine met the waves at a better angle.
    “The rest of the parade is falling behind,” Honor said.
    “Their problem, not mine. Can you see the fourth boat yet?”
    “No.”
    “Use the glasses.”
    She picked up the binoculars with one hand and braced herself on the dashboard with the other. The rough water made focusing on anything through the glasses nearly impossible. After a few minutes she put them down and hung on to the dashboard with both hands.
    “See anything?” Jake asked.
    “Not really.”
    “Keep trying.”
    “Forget it. If I look through those glasses again at this speed, your wonderful omelet might reappear.”
    “Uh-oh. I didn’t know you were the seasick type.”
    “I wasn’t until I tried to focus through the binoculars on something that was jumping all over the—” She swallowed hard. “Can we talk about something else?”
    Jake looked at the radar screen. Nothing showing ahead. The bastard has legs, he thought sourly, and the balls to go between them.
    “Are we still pulling away from the crowd?”
    “Yes. All I can see is the Day-Glo Zodiac.”
    “Hell.” Jake eased back on the throttle, breaking off the futile chase. “I don’t especially want to put Bill through a wringer.”
    “He’s a big boy. He can take it.” Honor’s tone said that she had no sympathy to spare for the official types who kept dogging her. “If he can’t keep up, he can always drop off.”
    “He has his orders.”
    “So does every good soldier.”
    “He’s not that bad, honey.”
    She started to tell him that her name was Honor, not Honey. Then she realized that he sounded friendly rather than patronizing. All the same . . .
    “Are you sure, darlin’?” she asked mildly.
    He gave her a fast, surprised look, followed by a slow, slow grin that made her wonder if she hadn’t bitten off more than she could chew.
    “Darlin’, huh?” he asked.
    “It was that or buttercup.”
    He gave a crack of laughter. “Buttercup. My God. You must have driven your brothers around the bend.”
    “I did my best. When I wore down, Faith took over.”
    The rueful affection in Honor’s voice when she spoke of her family took the smile right off Jake’s face. It reminded him of how close Honor was to them—and how far away from him.
    “Giving up on the other boat?” she asked.
    “Yeah.”
    She waited but he didn’t say anything more.
    “So now what?” she asked.
    “Gas.”
    He didn’t say anything more to her until he cut back to a snail’s pace at the mouth of a public marina.
    “Go to the bow and get ready to toss a line to the gas jockey,” he said.
    Even if Honor had felt like arguing, she wouldn’t have. The look on Jake’s face wasn’t the warm and