Silver Linings

cavern, on the other hand, is relatively easy to defend. If someone did come in by boat, we could always retreat into the tunnels if necessary. Any fight in that network of caves behind us would be one-on-one. And we'd have the advantage because we know how to interpret Cormier's wall markings.”
    “I see.” Mattie's stomach clenched at the casual way he talked about a shoot-out in the cavern. She stood still for a moment staring out through the opening in the rocky wall. The fresh air wafting into the big cavern was reassuring. And the cavern itself seemed large enough. It was gloomy, but she did not sense the walls closing in on her the way she had back in the corridors they had just come through.
    “Mattie?”
    “I won't sleep a wink, of course, but I don't think I'll go bonkers on you,” she said.
    “Attagirl, babe.”
    “Do me a favor, Hugh. Try not to be too condescending, okay? I'm really not in the mood for it.”
    “Sure, babe. How about something to eat? Bet you're starving by now.” Hugh pulled a small tin of liver pâté out of one of the string bags and held it aloft for her inspection.
    Mattie shuddered. “I gave up meat a couple years ago. It's not very good for you, especially in that form. Pâtés are full of fat and cholesterol and who knows what else.”
    Hugh eyed the tin with a considering gaze. “Yeah, I'm not real fond of pâté, myself. Give me a good juicy steak any day. But beggars can't be choosers, right?”
    “They can be as choosy as they want until they're a lot hungrier than I am right now.” Mattie sat down on the nearest rock and cast a withering glance at the liver pâté, the caves that had terrified her, and the man who had humiliated her. She wondered what the instructor in last month's antistress class would have advised to do now.

    A few hours later Hugh shifted slightly against the rough wall of the cave and watched the wedge of silver moonlight creep slowly toward Mattie's still, silent shape. She was curled up in a semireclining position, her head pillowed on her leather purse. He knew she was not asleep.
    Earlier she had managed to eat some of the water crackers he had taken from Cormier's cupboard, but she had not touched any of the other food he had brought along.
    Hugh thought about the ashen look on her face when she had emerged from the narrow cavern passages, and his mouth tightened. The lady had guts. He knew what it was like to keep moving ahead when your whole body was bathed in the sweat of fear and your insides felt loose and out of control. He had nothing but respect for anyone else who could manage the trick.
    Hugh watched the dark water lapping against rock. He would have given a great deal to know what had happened to the boat that Cormier had always kept at the ready here in this cavern. It was not like his friend to be taken off guard.
    Cormier had always been a planner, a careful strategist who had prided himself on being prepared for all contingencies. Now he was dead. And the escape boat was not where it should have been.
    There were several logical explanations for the missing boat. It might simply have been sent to a local yard for repairs or a new paint job. Cormier always took care of his equipment.
    But there were not many good explanations for how Paul Cormier had allowed himself to be taken unawares by a killer.
    On the other hand, Cormier had been an old man, a man who had thought himself safe here in the paradise called Purgatory. The past was behind him now and there had been no reason to fear the future.
    Hugh told himself he would worry about what had happened to Cormier later. There was a time and a place for vengeance. He had other things to worry about at the moment.
    He watched the moonlight touch Mattie's bare feet. Right now the first priority was to get her safely off the island. Cormier would have been the first to agree with that. The old man had been old-fashioned when it came to dealing with women.
    “ A man must always protect the ladies, Hugh. Even when they bare their little claws and assure us they can defend themselves. If we cannot take care of our women, we are not of much use to them, are we? And we would not want to have them conclude we are totally useless. Where would we men be then? A man who is not willing to defend a woman with his life is not much of a man .”
    Hugh studied Mattie. Her trousered legs were now bathed in pale silver. He recalled the shock on her face a few hours ago when she had