Robin Cook - Terminal

Opting for privacy, they turned to the south, angling across the sand to reach the apogee of the small waves as they washed up on the beach. Expecting the water to feel like Cape Cod in the summer, Sean was pleasantly surprised. It was still cool, but certainly not cold.

Holding hands, they walked on the damp, firm sand at the water’s edge. The sun was dipping toward the horizon, casting a glistening path of golden light along the surface of the water. A flock of pelicans silently glided by overhead. From the depths of a vast mangrove swamp came the cry of a tropical bird.

As they walked past the beachfront condominiums just south of the Ritz Carlton, real estate development gave way to a line of Australian pine trees mixed with sea grapes and a few palms. The Gulf changed from green to silver as the sun sank below the horizon.

“Do you honestly care for me?” Janet asked suddenly. Since she wouldn’t get a chance to talk seriously with Sean at dinner, she decided there was no time better than the present to at least get a discussion started. After all, what could be more romantic than a sunset walk on the beach?

“Of course I care for you,” Sean said.

“Why don’t you ever tell me?”

“I don’t?” Sean asked, surprised.

“No, you don’t.”

“Well, I think it all the time,” Sean said.

“Would you say you care for me a lot?”

“Yeah, I would,” Sean said.

“Do you love me, Sean?” Janet asked.

They walked for a way in silence watching their feet press into the sand.

“Yeah, I do,” Sean said.

“Do what?” Janet asked.

“What you said,” Sean replied. He glanced off at the spot on the horizon where the sun had set. It was still marked by a fiery glow.

“Look at me, Sean,” Janet said.

Reluctantly, Sean looked into her eyes.

“Why can’t you tell me you love me?” she asked.

“I’m telling you,” Sean said.

“You can’t say the words,” Janet said. “Why not?”

“I’m Irish,” Sean said, trying to lighten the mood. “The Irish aren’t good at talking about their feelings.”

“Well, at least you admit it,” Janet said. “But whether you truly care for me or not is an important issue. It’s futile to have the kind of talk I want if the basic feelings aren’t there.”

“The feelings are there,” Sean insisted.

“Okay, I’ll let you off the hook for the moment,” Janet said, pulling Sean to a halt. “But I have to say it’s a mystery to me how you can be so expressive about everything else in life and so uncommunicative when it comes to us. But we can talk about that later. How about a swim?”

“You really want to go in the water?” he asked reluctantly. The water was so dark.

“What do you think going for a swim means?” Janet asked.

“I get the point,” Sean said. “But this really isn’t a bathing suit.” He was afraid that once his shorts got wet it would be akin to wearing nothing.

Janet couldn’t believe that after they’d come this far he was balking at going into the water because of his shorts.

“If there’s a problem,” she said, “why don’t you just take them off?”

“Listen to this!” Sean said mockingly. “Miss Proper is suggesting I skinny-dip. Well, I’d be happy to as long as you’ll do the same.”

Sean glared at Janet in the half-light. Part of him relished making her feel uncomfortable. After all, hadn’t she just made him squirm on this issue of expressing feelings? He wasn’t quite sure she’d rise to his challenge, but then Janet had been surprising him a lot lately, starting with her following him to Florida.

“Who first?” she asked.

“We’ll do it together,” he said.

After a moment’s hesitation they both peeled off their terrycloth robes, then their suits, and pranced naked into the light surf. As evening deepened toward night, they frolicked in the shallow water, letting the miniature waves cascade over their nude bodies. After the controlling grip of Boston winter it seemed like the epitome of abandon, especially for Janet. To her surprise, she was enjoying the sensation immensely.

Fifteen minutes later they drew themselves out of the water and rushed up the beach to gather their clothes, giggling like giddy adolescents. Janet immediately began to step into her suit, but Sean had different ideas. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her up into the shadows of the Australian pines. After spreading their robes on the sandy bed of pine needles at the edge of the beach, they lay down in tight, joyous embrace.

But it didn’t last long.

Janet was the first to sense something was wrong. Lifting her head, she looked out at the luminous line of white sand beach.

“Did you hear that?” she asked.

“I don’t think so,” Sean replied without even listening.

“Seriously,” Janet said. She sat up. “I heard something.”

Before either could move, a figure stepped out of the shadows enveloping the copse of pine trees. The stranger’s face was lost in shadow. All they could see clearly was the pearl-handled gun pointed at Janet.

“If this is your property we’ll just go,” Sean said. He sat up.

“Shut up!” Tom hissed. He couldn’t take his eyes off Janet’s nakedness. He’d planned on stepping out of the darkness and immediately shooting them both, but now he found himself hesitating. Although he couldn’t see much in the half-light, what he could see was mesmerizing. He was finding it difficult to think.

Sensing Tom’s penetrating eyes, Janet snatched up her bathing suit and pressed it against her chest. But Tom was not to be denied. With his free hand he wrenched the suit away and let it drop to the sand.

“You never should have interfered,” Tom snapped.

“What are you talking about?” Janet asked, unable to take her eyes off the gun.

“Alice told me girls like you would try to tempt me,” Tom said.

“Who’s Alice?” Sean asked. He got to his feet. He hoped to keep Tom talking.

“Shut up!” Tom barked, swinging the gun in Sean’s direction. He decided it was time to get rid of this guy. He extended his arm, tightening his grip on the trigger until the gun fired.

But the bullet went wide. At the exact moment Tom pulled the trigger a second shadowy figure hurled out of the darkness, tackling Tom, knocking him sideways a number of yards.

The gun sprang from Tom’s grip with the stranger’s impact. It fell to the ground inches from Sean’s foot. With the sound of the shot still ringing in his ears, Sean looked down at the weapon with shock. He couldn’t believe it; someone had fired a gun at him!

“Get the gun!” Harris managed to grunt as he wrestled with Tom. They rolled against the trunk of one of the pine trees. Tom momentarily broke free. He started out onto the beach, but he only got fifty feet away before Harris tackled him again.

Both Sean and Janet got over their initial shock and began to react at the same moment. Janet snatched up their robes and suits. Sean picked up the gun. They could see Harris and Tom rolling around in the sand close to the water.

“Let’s get out of here!” Sean said urgently.

“But who saved us?” Janet asked. “Shouldn’t we help him?”

“No,” Sean said. “I recognize him. He doesn’t need any help. We’re out of here.”

Sean grabbed Janet’s reluctant hand, and together they ran out from beneath the canopy of pine onto the beach and then north toward the hotel. Several times Janet tried to look over her shoulder, but each time Sean urged her on. As they neared the hotel they stopped long enough to slip into their robes.

“Who was that man who saved us?” Janet demanded between gasping breaths.

“Head of security at Forbes,” Sean said, equally as winded. “His name is Robert Harris. He’ll be okay. We should worry about that other fruitcake.”