White Cargo Read Online Free PDF Page A

watch, if that’s okay.”
    Cat shrugged. “If you’re sure you don’t need the rest.” He slid from behind the wheel and relinquished the helm.
    “I’d rather pull the watch,” Denny replied. “Sleep well.”
    Below, Cat got out of his harness, shucked off his jeans and T-shirt, and crawled into the double berth with Katie. She stirred as he snuggled close. “My watch?” she asked, sleepily.
    “Denny’s taking it,” Cat said, cupping a breast in his hand.
    “Oh, good,” she said, turning toward him. “I get you in the middle of the night, for a change.”
    He kissed her, then they made love, gently, slowly, lying facing each other, coming quietly after a few minutes, together, as they usually did. Years of practice, Cat thought. Then he fell asleep.
    •   •   •
    A change in the motion of the yacht woke him. There was light against the curtains in the after cabin. Cat glanced at the gold-and-steel Rolex wristwatch Katie and Jinx had given him as a launching present: not quite 6 A.M . Why had the motion changed? Then the yacht, which had been heeled to port, rolled to starboard and seemed to settle. They were hove to; stopped. Then came a muffled, slithering sound and the thumps of footsteps on deck. The mainsail was coming down. Why? Had something broken? A halyard, maybe. The actions on deck seemed to fit that scenario. The main halyard had broken, and Denny had, quite properly, put the boat on the opposite tack, with the headsail backed while he got the mainsail in hand.
    Cat rolled out of the berth, naked, got into his jeans, and felt for his Topsiders with his feet. He didn’t like to go on deck barefooted; he had once nearly broken a toe, tripping on a deck fitting. He moved slowly, sleepily intothe saloon; there didn’t seem to be any great urgency; Denny was not calling for him. He climbed halfway up the companionway ladder and stopped, puzzled. The wheel was locked; Denny was standing on the stern of the boat, looking aft, shielding his eyes from a rising, red ball of a sun.
    “What’s up, Denny?” Cat called out. “We got a problem?”
    Denny turned and looked at him, silhouetted against the rising sun; Cat could not see his face.
    “No, no problem,” Denny called back, then turned and looked astern again.
    Cat climbed into the cockpit, raising a hand to shade his eyes. “Why are we stopped? What’s going on?”
    Denny did not reply but continued to stare astern.
    Now Cat heard an engine. He started aft toward Denny, staggering a bit with sleep and the gentle rolling of the yacht. He made the stem and climbed up beside Denny, holding on to the backstay for support as the hove-to boat rolled with the swell. “What is it?” he asked again.
    “I don’t know,” Denny said, dully.
    The young man seemed to be breathing rapidly, Cat thought. He looked out astern, the sun hurting his eyes, and, for the first time, saw a white shape that had to be a boat a few hundred yards out, coming toward them. The sound of an engine was distinct now, borne on the light breeze. Cat looked around the cockpit for the binoculars, then remembered that they had been stolen in Santa Marta. He squinted at the boat, trying to judge its shape and size. It seemed to be a sportfisherman, he thought, something on the order of thirty feet. It came on, steadily, toward Catbird.
    “Why did you stop the boat, Denny?” Cat asked again.
    The younger man stepped down from the stern and stood in the cockpit, still watching the approaching boat, now only a hundred yards away.
    “Nothing’s wrong, Mr. Catledge,” Denny said. “Everything’s okay.”
    Cat was wide awake now, and becoming irritated at the lack of an answer to his question.
    “Denny, I asked you why you stopped the boat. Answer me.”
    “Uh, there was a problem with the mainsail. I thought it ought to come down.”
    It was as Cat had suspected, then. But what about the approaching boat? It was less than fifty yards away, and Cat could clearly