With an effort, he worked at holding down his anxiety and cut back his speed, settling down to pull it off professionally. No blunders… nothing that would arouse suspicion. He was servicing the buoys. That's all. And you had to service them all, didn't you? Make it look good. Just in case…
Wait! What the hell was that? A lake freighter! Just visible on the horizon ahead and to the north! So? Nothing wrong with that… he hoped. The perfect Godamned setup through for some of Larreau's men! With glasses they could make him out fine. And if they had a fast boat tied along side…
Shannon swallowed a ball of cotton. It might be coincidence. There were plenty of freighters on this lake… but… Jesus! He'd have to chance it! After all, he was only servicing the buoys.
He brought her in close and caught his rope. Mechanically, he went through his role, at the same time looking for the tell-tale line that would be tied just below the waterline of the marker holding the bag in the water below. There it was! Excitement prickled his flesh. A half-million dollars! He tried not to move too fast, and bending down, he loosened the line, straightened, and secured it to the ring he had installed in the gunwale for that purpose.
He remained fast until he was satisfied he'd used enough time to make it look good, pulled loose his rope and made off, still following the course of the buoys ahead. He would stop at a couple more before circling and heading back to Hyde Island.
Then, he spotted the boat! A speed-craft she was, and bearing down on him from the direction of the freighter! He'd damned sure called that one all right! Something bitter spurted up into his mouth and he swallowed it back. He dug the revolver from against his belly and ran for the wheel. Damnit! He'd make a fight of it anyway!
Coming around, he opened her up, for all the damn good it did. She felt like a scow beneath him and when he looked back he could see the bag, a black shiny object, hitting the surface and skipping, submerging again, then breaking water to repeat the cycle. Beyond, and still a little north, came the speed-boat, her bow raised high out of the water and cutting a hell of a wake behind her. She was coming straight at him and he thought he could make out two… maybe three people in her.
For a moment he panicked… decided to cut the bag loose, then caught himself. To hell with it! He'd gone this far. He'd go all the bloody way! He gripped the gun tight and felt the sweat slime between the handle and his palm. Godamn them! He'd take a couple of them with him anyway! Jesus! Almost, but not quite! A half million dollars…! Beautiful! Come on you bastards! Take it away from me!
"Well, Charlie, a cool head can't win 'em all, can it?" he said aloud, then laughed bitterly. A maze of things were running through his mind. He remembered as a kid how he had always abhorred the thought of being aboard a sinking ship and how God-horrible a watery grave would be… and how his own little son had drowned… and how he would never see Annette or Madeleine again, or any other Godamned thing… He swore aloud and watched the boat coming down on him. Behind, the bag broke water and went out of sight once more. He shifted the revolver from one hand to the other and back again. Wait until they were close enough. No use wasting the bullets. He had only six, and they had to count. He could see them now… make them out. A man at the wheel and another in the seat behind him… wearing white shirts and yachting caps… yachting caps?
Shannon straightened slowly. The third passenger was a woman… in a bathing suit. They were beside him now and maybe fifty yards off the starboard. The woman waved!
His arm felt as if it were made of lead. Both the pilot and the man in back waved. He could see the smile on the woman's face! He forced the hand that didn't have the gun up into the air. They all waved once more and he waved back.
Suddenly, he was limp. He wasn't certain whether he was going to laugh or cry. He plodded back to the pilot seat and flopped onto it. Then, he laughed until he choked, and when that was passed the speed-boat was two miles beyond and going away.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The storm came up in what seemed to be a matter of minutes, the cloud bank of thunderheads looming rapidly out of the southwest to quickly overcast the heavens and burst open at their dull grey bellies, unleashing vicious bolts of chain lightning with great claps of thunder and churning up a wicked sea. Fortunately, Shannon had reached the island and was mooring the boat in the cove when it let loose its wrath. He hauled in his booty and ran to the house where the girls waited tense and weepy with both fear and excited anticipation.
The moment he entered they were all over him, hugging and kissing him, tears streaming down their cheeks in their obvious joys at his safe return. He dropped the bag, taking each in an arm and held them tight while they clung to him, pressing their delightful bodies snugly to his from either side, their hands caressing, their soft lips on his bearded face while he sought their round full buttocks with his big hands to smooth and massage them there. Christ, it was almost too much that one man should have it so good, he beamed happily.
"We worried so, cheri," Madeleine whimpered.
"Especially when we saw the storm coming up," added Annette. "We were both sorry we'd let you go…"
"What would we ever have done if something had happened to you?" Madeleine sniffled.
"Okay, okay," Shannon chuckled, finally working himself free. He picked up the bag and said: "Nothing did happen… but for awhile there I had my doubts… Anyway, there it is! A half million bucks, dolls… all ours! From here on out the world's our oyster… and man, are we going to enjoy it! Come on, let's start counting."
Greedily and with nervous hands, he removed the waterproof container, opened the valise and gaped at its contents. Slowly, the girls came in close on either side to stare with him. It presented an almost unbelievable, breathtaking sight. It was divided in Canadian and U.S. currency and tiny little gasps of awe escaped each of them as they studied and touched it almost reverently.
"Y-You suppose it's all there?" asked Madeleine, her voice barely audible.
"I'd wager it is, but let's count it and find out," said Shannon, turning the valise over, emptying the packeted money onto the table. "Go ahead, you girls start counting while I watch and catch my breath."
"Oui, cheri," chirped Annette, setting immediately to the task with enthusiasm.
Sir Launcelot came up to Shannon then, nuzzling close to him affectionately. The movement surprised and pleased him; it seemed that he'd finally been accepted all the way around. He petted the massive head and heard the animal's whining response. Christ, it was a great life he had ahead of him, almost too great to comprehend right at the moment. All the money in the whole Godamned world… He crossed the room, his mind reeling with its pleasurable thoughts.
Outside, the rain had increased in its intensity, changing momentarily into hail-stones and causing an immediate dropping of temperature that would produce fog. Shannon looked to the girls who were working feverishly over the money and wondered if they had yet noticed the prompt cooling off of the house. Neither of them were overdressed: Madeleine in a summer mini-thing she'd brought with her, and Annette in the thin sweater-slacks outfit she'd been wearing when he'd brought her there, but they were too busy to pay attention to anything but the stacks of bills before them. He laughed to himself, sensing the odor of musty and overstuffed furniture along with that of partially burned wood from the fireplace the cooling dampness was raising. While they went on counting, he found paper and chips to light a fire, then made coffee, all of the time thinking about the wild little orgy they were going to stage right there before the Godamned fireplace in celebration, just as soon as he calmed his nerves and remartialed his wits…