Connie didn't try to give the skipper any excuses, either. The way she looked, I bet she was thinking about how she'd gone over to the rocks, all by herself, to take her leak last night. I bet she was wondering where the killer might've been while she was there.
"What's all the fussing about?" The question came from Billie. We looked over at her. She lay on her side, propped up on one elbow. Her upper breast seemed about ready to fall out of her bikini, but so far it was staying put.
"Our friend," Andrew explained, "snuck in here last night right under the noses of our two sharp-eyed sentries and set the dinghy adrift."
Frowning, Billie thrust herself up to a sitting position. She was wonderful to watch -- all that shifting flesh barely contained by her black bikini. Nothing came loose, though. Once she was on her feet, she took a few moments to adjust her top and bottom. While she fiddled with the bikini, she frowned out at the dinghy.
"Maybe a wave just came in and took it off," she suggested.
"Not a chance," Andrew said. "This was done on purpose. By a person. By the man who murdered Keith, more than likely."
"What'll we do?" Billie asked. "We aren't going to just let it go, are we? What if we decide we want it? Even if you don't think we should try for another island . . ."
"It isn't going anywhere," Andrew said.
"It's almost gone now."
"I'm going out to get it."
She looked at him. She gazed at the boat. "No, you're not."
"Yes, I am."
"You can't swim that far."
"Of course I can."
"I don't mean you can't. I mean you're not going to. You're sixty years old, for Godsake."
"Don't give me that age crap. I can outswim anyone here."
I raised my hand a little -- like a schoolkid who thinks he might know the answer but isn't quite sure. "I'll swim out and bring it back," I offered.
"Don't make me laugh," Andrew said. "I've seen you swim -- if one can call it that."
"Maybe we should just let it go," Billie said. "It's not worth. . ."
"No!" Connie blurted. "It's our only way out of here! We've got to get it back!"
"She's right," Andrew said. He unbuckled his belt.
Billie put a hand on his shoulder. "No. Come on, now. Kimberly's the swimmer of the family. She should be the one to go, if anyone."
Kimberly appeared to be asleep. She was face down in her nest of rags, sprawled limp, one leg out to the side and bent at the knee. One arm was under her face. The other stretched away from her as if she were reaching for something.
Maybe reaching for Keith.
She still had his Hawaiian shirt on. The gaudy fabric rippled in the breeze. The shirt had gotten mussed in her sleep, so it let some of her back show above her bikini pants.
Man, she looked great.
"I'm not going to wake her up for this," Andrew said. "No, sir. Not me." He took off his khaki shorts, handed them to Billie, and stood in front of us wearing nothing except his white briefs. They were sagging a bit, so he tugged them up. (Like Thelma, Andrew had come to the picnic with no intention of swimming. They both left their suits on the boat.) Billie was frowning. "Andrew," she said. "Don't. . ."
"For Godsake, woman."
"Don't make me a widow," she told him.
He narrowed an eye at her. "The day I can't swim out as far as that dinghy, I might as well be dead." He winked, then grabbed her upper arms, pulled her against him and planted a big kiss on her mouth. "That'll have to last you till I get back."
"I wish you wouldn't go."
"Christ, now, you're gonna jinx me!" He smacked her on the rump.
Hard enough to make her flinch and wince.
"Back in a flash," he said.
Then he whirled around and marched with a jaunty swagger toward the water.
"The idiot," Billie muttered. Even though she was annoyed, she seemed proud of him.
"He'll be all right," Connie said. "He can swim that far without even getting winded."
"He is in great shape," Billie admitted.
The way he was wading through the knee-deep water, I thought he looked rather like an old, bow-legged monkey. But I kept the observation to myself.
"Should I go with him?" I asked Billie.
"Get real," Connie said.
"I wasn't asking you."
"He wouldn't like it," Billie told me, not taking her eyes off Andrew. "He thinks he's perfectly capable of doing everything."
"Made me climb the tree and cut down Keith yesterday," I said.
Billie shook her head. "Did he? He isn't fond of heights."
"Dad'll be fine in the water," Connie said.
The water of the inlet was very shallow. Andrew waded out nearly as far as the point before he began to swim. Because of the reef, there was no real surf. Just small, calm waves that shouldn't give a swimmer any trouble at all. He moved along smoothly, taking his time. The dinghy kept drifting farther away, but he was slowly gaining on it.
The next thing I knew, Kimberly stood beside me.
"Hi," I said.
"Hi," she said. "What's happening?"
"Your father's swimming out to get the dinghy."
"That's our dinghy out mere?"
"Yeah."
"How'd it get away?"
"We don't know," I said.
Billie joined in, saying, "Andrew thinks the killer snuck in and set it adrift last night."
"Jesus," Kimberly muttered. She put a hand against her brow to shade her eyes. "It sure is far out there."
"We were going to have you go for it," Billie said, "but your father insisted on doing it himself."
"He didn't want to wake you up," I added.
"Figures," Kimberly said. Then, without asking for advice or permission, she flung off Keith's shirt and bolted for the water. She didn't jog, she sprinted. It was great to watch. She dashed over the beach, shiny black hair flowing behind her, arms swinging, long legs striding out, feet kicking up sand, then water. The water flew as she splashed forward. It sparkled in the sunlight. It gleamed on her dark shoulders and back and legs.
"He doesn't need her," Connie whined. "God! She always has to butt in and take over."
"It's fine," Billie said.
"Yeah, sure. What's the point, anyhow? She isn't even gonna catch up to htm in time."
I'd been watching Kimberly splash through the water, but now I looked past her. It took a few seconds to spot the dinghy. And there was Andrew, closing in on it.
I got my eyes back to Kimberly in time to watch her dive. She vanished under the waves for a few moments, then surfaced and began to swim with quick, sharp strokes.
Man, she was fast!
Not fast enough, though.
She was only about halfway there when Andrew arrived at the dinghy.
"He made it," Billie said.
Way off in the distance, he reached up out of the water with both hands. He grabbed a gunnel near the bow. Then someone stood up in the dinghy.
I thought I'd have a heart attack.
Connie made a gasp.
Billie cried out, "My God!"
We couldn't see who it was. We couldn't even see whether it was a man or woman. Just that it was a person, and that it came up suddenly out of the bottom of the boat and raised an object overhead with both hands.
The object looked like an ax.
It swung down and appeared to strike Andrew on top of his head. He let go of the gunnel.
He vanished under the water.
I felt like I'd been kicked in the stomach.
Connie went nuts. She started shrieking, "Dad! Dad!"
But Billie kept her head. Like me, she must've known it was a waste of time to cry out for Andrew. If we'd seen things right, he was past help.
Kimberly was the one in danger, now.
She was still swimming toward the dinghy. Hadn't she seen? Maybe she had seen, and planned to do something about it.
Billie shouted, "Kim! Kim! Watch out! Get back here!"
"What's happening?" Thelma called. I glanced around and saw her staggering toward us.
Billie ignored her and kept yelling at Kimberly.
Connie was on her hands and knees, head up, staring out toward the scene of the murder, shrieking, "Dad!"